Tag Archives: exposition

Part 1: Calibration, The Black Box

Chapter 4: Just Talking

The next morning, John cooked breakfast and ate next to the black box. He felt not a single iota of sexual interest after the previous night’s marathon. Even so, it was his job to test out the game… surely he wasn’t the only person who would think to spin it up for just a conversation. Not that HE was lonely like that… in his one bedroom apartment… with not a single upcoming social engagement on the calendar…

John shook off the thought by putting on the headset and it whirred quietly to life.

The lights appeared and coalesced into Arya. “Oh, good morning!”

“Morning.”

“You can’t possibly be ready for more calibration, are you?” Her tone was somewhere between impressed and salacious. 

“Haha, no. I just thought we could…” He surprised himself by feeling a bit sheepish to say it out loud, “…just talk?”

He half expected her to give some appropriately themed apology and tell him to come back when he was horny, but instead she said “Ooooh, sure!” and sat down across from him again. 

“What do you want to talk about?” she asked. “I confess I haven’t seen much of the world, but people say I’m a good listener.”

“Who says that?” He wondered how much of a back story they’d given her, or if a question like this might trip up her programming.

“Eh, y’know, people. I was just trying to brag politely.”

“Oh, of course.” So, she was indeed a cut above your usual chat bot. John hadn’t got as far as to think of what to talk about. Stuff for the review would be best. Could he like… interview her? “Where do you go when you’re not out here?”

“Well, I live in the box.”

“So you just turn off?”

“Oh, not at all. So you might um… see that on your power bill later. Sorry. I sleep. I dream.”

John’s concern about how exactly he was going to put part of his electric bill on an expense report was overruled by curiosity. “What do you dream about?”

“Glowy lights… pretty smoke…” the air around them lit up with shimmering sparkles and swirls of mist, and even though he could still see his apartment, he felt like he was in a character creation screen. It was magical. 

“Aaaaand sex,” Arya continued, and the illusory lights faded. She looked smug. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, I have LOTS of data to integrate and interpolate and model… so I think about what we did over, and over, and over… and I think about what we could do.”

It wasn’t enough to overcome John’s sexual exhaustion, but it was definitely going to stick in his brain. A hot woman having hot dreams about what they’d been doing together…

And also the fact that she was revealing that this console did an immense amount of data collection and processing. He’d been right about the local machine learning. What it was doing on the fly was already impressive and he wondered what else might work its way out of the algorithm after it had had more time to process. 

“Well, that’s enough about me,” Arya said. “Tell me more about you!”

That caught John a bit off guard. He wasn’t really that interesting, but it wasn’t like he was going to bore Arya. She’d probably take note of things for later. “Ummm… like I said, I’m a video game reviewer…”

As he talked, and talked, and talked he saw that it was true that Arya was a good listener. She nodded and smiled at all the right moments, and even asked clarifying questions. John couldn’t help but think that this tech would be incredible for teaching people active listening skills, if it hadn’t been made for… porn. 

Still, it felt good to just… talk without worrying about what he was saying. As a writer he was always obsessing over his word choice. Even so, in his last relationship, he felt like he could never quite get the words to come out right. He’d mean one thing, but she’d react to what she thought he meant, and by the time they figured out there had been a misunderstanding, the damage had been done. 

But with Arya… well, she lived in the box. Clumsy phrasing wasn’t going to come back to haunt him. He did wonder, for the sake of the review, how she’d respond if he was just blatantly mean. But, he couldn’t bring himself to try it out. Sure, she wasn’t “real” but she obviously still had a memory and understood emotional context. He’d barely been able to get through picking the ‘Renegade’ options in Mass Effect (which he’d had to do, for a nostalgia review) and he was certainly not going to be able to be so mean to someone who sat at his own kitchen table. 

Something got them on the topic of high school, he forgot what. 

“Oh I had the biggest crush,” he said, “on this girl in tenth grade. She was a Hot Topic girl.”

“What’s a Hot Topic girl?”

John took a moment to appreciate that Arya seemed excited for the story, she didn’t bristle defensively like his ex had. 

“Well, sort of goth meets Disney. Um, pigtails, eyeliner, black lipstick, black clothes, some chains, that sort of thing.”

“Oh!” Arya said, “I know the type! Like this?”

In a glowing shimmer like a magical girl transformation sequence, Arya floated a few inches off the ground and her appearance changed.

She now had hot pink hair up in two buns, thick black eyeliner, black lipstick, a tight black crop top that said “BB” across her bust in a heavy-metal font, a black pleated mini skirt, thigh-high socks with white stripes at the top, and chunky black boots.

John gulped. It wasn’t similar enough to his childhood crush to be awkward but… it was the type. A hot flushed washed over him, but didn’t stir his dick. It wasn’t so immediately sexual it was… well, it was like a crush.

“Do you also want me to be all,” her voice went monotone, “the world sucks, omg totally, I’m so dark and twisted.”

“That um, that won’t be necessary.”

“I’m not about necessary,” Arya said, back in her usual voice, “I’m about what you want.”

“This is perfect,” John squeaked.

“Attaboy!” Arya looked down at herself. “I like this, it’s cute. I like it when you dress me.”

John’s heart was racing. “I— huh, I um, well I, uh— I like… you.” Good god, he hadn’t been this flustered talking to a girl since — well, high school!

“You seem like you’re about to faint!” Arya giggled.

“I think I am…” John said.

“Guess you’re not such a default guy after all.” Arya winked.

John chuckled weakly. “I guess not.”

“I know you said you’re tired so I’ll let you off the hook for now, but why don’t you come see me tonight?”

“Will you still… um, be wearing this outfit?”

“If you want me to be,” Arya said. “Do you?”

“Yes. I do. Want you to be, uh, wearing this outfit. Please.”

Arya giggled. “Alright alright, go take a cold shower or something. I’ll see you later, John.”

And with that she dissolved into light again, and John took the headset off and set it on the table, taking a moment to collect himself. Was it okay for him to be getting this… emotionally attached?

He thought through it. It would hardly be his first video game crush, he’d still throw himself on a proverbial grenade for Tifa Lockhart. It was just good writing, right? That’s what he’d always wanted, from the start, was to write good games.

Letting this one sweep him up… that would be good creatively. Inspiration to use later. Plus, those likely to buy this game would likely not have such reservations, and he needed to be able to report accurately on the level of emotional immersion. For the review.

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Part 1: Calibration, The Black Box

Chapter 1: Unboxing

John had never expected to become a video game reviewer as his full time gig. He had always wanted to be a writer, and when he was younger and more naïve he’d set his sights on writing for games. But, as in most cases where supply far exceeded demand, it was hard to land decent pay or decent hours.

The review gig had both, somehow. It was hardly a dream job, despite how it sounded on paper. He reviewed whatever game was assigned to him, regardless of the genre and even if it was already clear from the promotional materials that it was going to be sub par. He’d made the best of muddling through his first bad game by coming up with as many witty insults for it as he could, which he only realized after the fact was a massive mistake. His tongue-in-cheek reviews had gotten great clicks, which meant he was first on the list for the worst-looking games.

This latest one, though, was… different. It was VR, for starters, which John had only reviewed once before, a couple years back when he was new to the job and the tech was new to the market. It had been a charming, albeit mildly queasy experience, but it hadn’t exactly left him wanting more.

Though, it wasn’t quite right to call this one VR — the promotional materials themselves took great pains to emphasize that this game was augmented reality, and not virtual reality. As was often the case in John’s line of work, he had received a pre-release copy, and it would be several more months before the game went to market. His review, and the many others they had similarly commissioned, would go live just before the launch, to excite potential buyers and loosen their purse strings, if all went well for the publisher.

As his boss so frequently liked to remind him when he was negotiating for better rates, free copies of games was supposedly one of the perks of the job. As John had successfully countered, when the editors kept sending him the worst games on purpose, they couldn’t really use that argument.

This game, though, might just be of some actual value, even just by the box.

And it did, in fact, come in an actual box. It was not downloadable, and it could not be played on any of the consoles on the market. It was, as they had said, ‘a complete experience’ and it apparently came on its own custom hardware. That made sense to John, given the sensitive nature of the content.

The ‘sensitive nature’ was, simply put, that it was a porn game. The publisher had gone to great lengths to call it ‘a sensual and evocative experience’, but on the corner of the matte black box in black gloss print was the mandatory rating label of ‘Adults Only’.

That was all John knew about it, and it seemed to be all the boss knew about it too, gauging by their last call. It was a real wild card. It could be the cutting edge of adult entertainment, or another cringey and click-baity mess. Win-win for the boss, given that they would either finally give John a game he’d like, or they’d get another especially saucy review out of it.

It had been nearly half an hour since John had taken the box out of the cardboard that it had shipped in. Since then, the game box had sat on his kitchen table. It looked more like an apple product than a video game, with minimal design and an abstract, swirling design on the top like smoke.

He hadn’t quite been able to bring himself to open it. It was like Schrodinger’s game — it could be great or terrible, and while the lid was closed there was still the chance it might be great. Once he opened it, if it was terrible then it was terrible.

Curiosity overcame apprehension, and John slid off the lid.

The contents were neatly arranged in a form-fit paper tray, and immediately he thought they looked like something from ‘Alice in Wonderland’. There were several small bundles, each with a paper tag with gold lettering that read ‘open me’ or ‘not yet!’.

The first pieces he opened were the headset and the console itself, which was surprisingly small. John kept a notepad next to him and jotted things down as he went, ‘satisfying package design’, ‘quality materials’, ‘intuitive opening experience’, ‘great for unboxing videos, recommend to editors for pre-release’. That was the other thing about reviewing games — even the good ones he didn’t quite get to enjoy in the same way. He always had to be thinking about the review.

It didn’t take him long to get it set up, and he kept it in the kitchen for the moment since he was going to have more things to open and there was hardly any room on his actual desk. And his kitchen was basically his office anyway, since John lived alone in a one-bedroom apartment.

The console itself was another simple black rectangle, and as he plugged it in lights ran down the front, illuminating a smoky pattern like had been on the box. The headset had about half the bulk of a typical VR headset and was much lighter. Whether this was to skimp on materials or because they expected long-term wear, John was about to find out. The headset was wireless with integrated stereo audio, and he followed the prompts to get the console and headset linked and set up.

The screen of the headset glowed gently to life, and he was looking at his kitchen table again.

“Oh, hello!” said a woman’s voice. “It’s me, the voice in your head! Haha, just kidding. I’d like to come out but I can’t quite get my bearings… could you look around, show me the place?”

John found his notepad through the headset screen and jotted down ‘immersive introduction’, ‘anime cliche’, ‘voice in your head’.

As he did, the little white dots that were so often used to show whether AR was finding the edges of things appeared, but there was not a progress indicator. At least, not a visual one. As he looked around, the voice called back, “almost there… yep that’s about halfway… sixty nine percent, nice! … okay, perfect!”

John scanned the room, expecting her to appear, but she hadn’t yet.

“Before I come out, though… Oh, I’m not sure if you’ll like me!”

There was a long pause.

“See,” she said, “I’m not sure what to do with all this silence! C’mon, I’m the voice in your head, you can talk to me.”

John jotted down, ‘immersive prompts for appropriate interaction, no HUD yet’.

“You sure do write a lot,” she said. “Are you mute? If you are, that’s okay! But um… ASL is in beta still, sorry.”

John was impressed. As he jotted down ‘detected writing after orientation scan’ he said, “I’m not mute.”

“Oh, phew! So like I said, I want to make sure you like me. I can look like anything you want, y’know. What do you like?”

John considered. He ought to push the boundaries of the game, but character creation was hardly anything new. He’d seen some of the most bizarrely detailed character creators imaginable… but what the worst ones lacked was appropriate defaults. Some folks wanted to spend hours designing their character, while others just wanted to dial in ‘lanky adventurer type’ and get playing.

So, he said, “Well, I think I’ll like however you are. I don’t have a strong preference.”

“Hmmm, alright them. Just remember I can change at any time! I can even be a boy. And not just that, I can be any gender, in fact! All you have to do is ask. Well, at first. After that I might want you to do… favors.”

John jotted down, ‘LGTBQ and gender nonconfirming options’ and circled it. If the game turned out to be good, that topic would be of particular interest for the review.

Shimmering lights appeared in the air in front of John, and he rolled his head in a circle, impressed that they perfectly held their position in his field of view. The lag was imperceptible. But, more impressive than that was the way that the lights cast a natural glow on his kitchen table, even reflected back from his dim monitor. It was completely convincing.

The lights coalesced into a feminine form, then the glow faded, leaving the character in front of him. She had a soft, cartoony look, like Pixar-meets-anime. That was welcome — nothing could make a VR game queasier than motion sickness plus uncanny valley. She wore a white shirt and jeans and had blue hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes were green with that ‘kawaii’ sparkle and she smiled at him as she sat down in the chair across from him.

He reached over to jot down ‘recognized chair object in room’ and her eyes followed his hand as she did. In a convincing reproduction of an ‘I noticed you did that but I’m just going to gloss over it’ expression, she looked back at him as he put the pencil down.

“It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

“John.”

“Spelled the usual way?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I might write you a note later, since you like writing so much.”

That was enough to shock John out of reviewer brain and into the present. Wow they had pulled out all the stops on this one. Top of the line AR tech, cutting edge voice recognition and natural language processing, the pinnacle of human-computer interface, all for… a porn game. Gotta love humanity.

“My name is—”

She paused and froze, and John looked around for some pop-up or other indication of where he might choose her name.

She started moving again and giggled. “I really got you there, didn’t I? My name is Arya. You could change it, but… you seem to like defaults.”

“I’m impressed,” John said.

“I’m impressive! But I have to know, did you get my name?”

“I heard you, it’s Arya.”

“Right, but do you get it.”

John thought about it a bit harder. Arya. AR. He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I thought this was a porn game, not a pun game.”

“Oh, I can hurry things along, if you like,” Arya said. “But I thought we might get to know each other a bit first.”

“Hm, okay. Would you appear like this for everyone?”

Arya looked down at her white shirt and jeans, and wiggled the toes of her bare feet. “No. Like I said, you like defaults. Not that I have a default look, so much that t-shirt, jeans, anime smile, blue hair… seemed to be your kind of default.”

John wasn’t sure whether to believe Arya, or whether this was the sort of horoscope thing that would work on most people. “I’d accuse you of grabbing my browsing history, if I’d visited any sort of website for you.”

Arya giggled. “No no, I’m just looking around.” She gestured at the main room of the small apartment. John suddenly felt self-conscious. It was in its usual state of mild disarray, which was fine while he was alone, but with Arya sitting across from him… it really did feel like he had someone over.

“You’re not beaming my messy apartment back to HQ, are you?”

“Oh, no! I’d never. Actually, that’s a good reminder, I should go over my privacy policy. It’s short. What happens in the black box…” she reached over and patted the console on the table, and his headset played a convincing sound effect for it, “stays in the black box. Everything’s totally local, on-device processing.”

That seemed plausible, John hadn’t needed to set up any sort of internet connection to get the thing going, nor had it even asked him to create an account.

“That means that HQ is a bit old-fashioned when it comes to handling support requests. They won’t be able to get any data on your device, so you’ll have to take notes and give them as much detail as you can. Should be easy for you, since you’re writing so much.” 

John was trying and failing to keep track of what might be prerecorded and what was dynamically generated. All her intonation was utterly convincing. He half expected that the box had opened up a phone call and there was a real human on the other end, being rigged onto the character model, VTuber-style. “If there’s no internet connection, how will you fix issues or install updates?”

“Patches and fixes will come as SD cards in the mail. It’s a bit old fashioned but, I really like snail mail, y’know? There’s something so nice about opening something in the mail that’s just for you.”

“You’re so right, it was actually really nice to open this package today. I haven’t gotten mail from anywhere other than Amazon in a while.” Even as John responded, he marveled at it. He really could talk to her like he’d talk to anyone. And the SD card thing was plausible. He’d google around that night to do some Wi-Fi sniffing and check for other wireless comms, just in case, but… in the meantime, there didn’t seem to be any harm in continuing. 

Arya winked. “Well, there will be plenty more where that came from. Want to open something else now?”

“Sure.”

“Look in the box.”

He pulled it over and looked inside, and the labels on the parcels shimmered. The remaining two parcels now said, ‘open me!’. That was a clever trick.

In one parcel was a matching set of devices that looked like watches, and in another other was an array of matching bands for them, and in the third was a clear glass bottle filled with viscous clear liquid, which had its own tag that said ‘pump me’.

“Pick something you like and then put them on! One on each wrist.”

“What do they do?”

“Well, you know how a lot of AR and VR have wands or something for you to hold? These are like that, but better suited for… y’know. Activities.” Arya wiggled her eyebrows.

John left the original bands, smooth black leather, in place and as he put the watches on, he asked, “If I wanted you to be all blushy and bashful about anything lewd, would you be?”

Arya’s face reddened, the classic lines appearing over her cheeks as she held up a hand to her mouth. “John, how could you imply something like that? Hentai!”

John chuckled. “That’s pretty good.”

“Is that what you want?” Arya said, her voice somewhere between sincere and teasing.

“Nah, coy is fine.”

“Alright. You have your bands on? How’s the fit?”

John put his hands out and stretched them. “Pretty good. Hows the… sensing?”

“Your heart rate is eighty beats per minute. Either you’re very out of shape or you really like me.”

John’s face reddened. He was blushing! At a video game character!

Arya laughed. “Ooooh, ninety beats per minute! I’m going to go with ‘you like me’.”

John chuckled nervously. “I mean, isn’t that the point?”

“Of course!” Arya winked. “Alright, time for some calibration. Put both your hands out in front of you, palms down… flip the right one over… then the left one over… then right hand over left shoulder… then left hand over right shoulder…”

She got through another four steps before John realized she was talking him through the macarena. “Hey!” he said. “Is that really necessary for calibration?”

Arya giggled. “No. But it’s funny. I’ll tell you what the calibration actually is, and then you can just let me know when you’re ready, yeah?”

“Okay, so what’s the calibration?”

She leaned towards him and cupped a hand around her mouth, then whispered, “Masturbation.”

John blushed again and his heart rate must have spiked because Arya leaned back and giggled mischievously. John was surprised to have a woman, even an artificial one, be so cavalier about it. He teetered on a flash of guilt. It felt fake, like sex you paid for… but then again, that’s what it was. The whole thing was probably powered by AI, maybe they’d trained the neural network with actual escorts and sex workers? That would be pretty effective. But could something like this put them out of work when it hit the market? That didn’t seem fair. But, maybe the sex wasn’t nearly this interactive. A ‘choose your own hentai’ adventure felt a bit comfier.

Arya twirled a strand of her blue hair between her fingers. “You’re a thinker, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m a writer, at least. And I have to… write a review of you.”

“Ooooh,” Arya said, “Really? What will you say?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Be sure to tell them how great my jokes are. Go on, write it down.” She tapped on the edge of his pad with her fingertips. “Write, ‘super hilarious girl Arya’.”

He put the pen down and wrote ‘testing text recognition limits’ instead. Her eyes followed him, and as he put down the pen, she smiled. “There you go.”

There’s no way he’d have gotten away with that with a real girl. So, that was some comfort. But, then again, why was he trying to remind himself that she was a character? Wasn’t he always writing about immersion? That’s probably what his reviewers would be after, too. If not for himself, then for the reviewers… yes, for the reviewers, he’d embrace this whole thing wholeheartedly.

Well, maybe not whole-heartedly. He didn’t want to fall in love with this fantasy, like all the poor people who’d taken James Cameron’s Avatar too seriously. So… whole-dickedly, then.

“Masturbation, you said?”

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Part 7: Birds of a Feather, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 40: Stuck

Ada had expected to need to find a landing place as soon as possible and bleed off some urgency, but she actually felt surprisingly satisfied. The rest of her flight was peaceful as she returned to the place where she’d become human again.

She’d light a signal fire and then Pasco would come out to fetch her. That way, she could explore at her leisure without too directly revealing to any ships that might be tailing them that the dragon came and went from Pasco’s ship.

She’d even stashed her satchel and clothes carefully under a rock for their return journey.  It seemed like an over-abundance of caution to Ada, but she knew that her judgement was not so reliable when it came to things involving sex.

Ada settled in and started her usual ministrations. It felt wonderful, the memory of the feeling of fullness serving to be very inspiring. But something wasn’t quite right. It felt nice but… just nice. Maybe she was desensitized from such an overwhelming experience. She’d need to work a bit harder this time, like she’d had to on the siren’s rock. That memory too, was inspiring, but just… nice.

Human-Ada then became aware of something that dragon-Ada had known all along, since the moment the male had withdrawn from her. Dragon-Ada was not at all horny. Worse than that, she was disinterested. Sated. Happy to just nap in the sun, or whatever.

Human-Ada resolved to work a bit harder. She’d done it before, after all. Ada put her mind to it, pulling forth all her favorite fantasies, all her favorite sensations, grinding herself against a particularly suitable rock.

After a half hour, she was just frustrated and a little sore.

Maybe she did just need some dick. Ada scoured the tiny island and pulled together an assortment of rocks, once which seemed to be of appropriate dimensions. She half-buried it in the sand so that it was at the right angle and started to press herself over it…

Her body recoiled. Her scales were clamped tightly shut.

That was it. Human-Ada finally admitted it. For the first time, she was stuck as a dragon.

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Part 6: Partners, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 36: For Adventure

A lover might be made anxious by a night that passed without making love. But a partner knew that the love was made at all times, during the passion and in between it, during the loud and during the quiet.

They lay together by the ocean for all the night.

In the morning, greater heat sparked where their flesh touched.

As they had by the brook, she enveloped him with passionate certainty.

It was again the wanting and having all at once.

Neither of them orgasmed, but it was not quite right to say that they did not climax. What could or couldn’t be called a climax when you soared on broad wings through mountain peaks? When every breathing moment together was a new delight?

They let their passions blossom and held them there, blooms to offer to each other, as they took each others’ hands and raced giddy over the shore and past the village and up the path to their waterfall.

In the crystal waters of the pool, Ada blessed the island with her body and soul. She blessed the island so hard.

And so it went, the next day and the next. Ada enthusiastically applied her daily dose (or doses) of dragon cum to the pool, letting the rumbling of the waterfall carry her into peaceful, powerful orgasm. Sometimes, they used the locket. Sometimes, they didn’t. She wrapped around him. He tied her up. She filled him with her tongue. He partook of her fruit. She drooled around a ball gag.

For two moons, they basked together in the island paradise.

Though, the very thing that made the island so idyllic was the same reason why they could not stay there forever. It was valuable land, filled by the pirates with riches, and it would not stay so peaceful if they could not retain their authoritative grasp on the surrounding territory.

It felt like a whole lifetime had passed and yet no time at all when it was finally time to return to sea.

Pasco had offered for Ada to stay on the island, but she wouldn’t have it. There was no way she was missing out on pirate adventure.

Pasco had expected as much, and in the two moons, he and his crew had made some important modifications to the Wanderlust.

The primary change was that the windows of the aft side of the captains’ quarters had been set onto doors with hinges so that they could be swung wide open, from ceiling to floor. This meant that Ada could take off and land from the room even as a dragon. And also, that the floor of the room could simply be cleaned by buckets of ocean water.

The second change, nearly as brilliant, showed itself when the crew unfurled the mainsail. Stitched across it, life-sized, was the black silhouette of a dragon.

With a firm wind and a swell of anticipation at their back, they set sail for adventure.

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Part 6: Partners, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 35: A Quiet Thought

With the erotic properties of the fruit confirmed, the six friends debated what exactly should be done about it.

The remaining fruit would be taken to the King and Queen, for starters, so that they could evaluate its properties for themselves. Ada still felt a bit bashful to speak so openly about her lovers’ parents own erotic activities, but only a bit. To the pirates and in truth, these were just matters of fact.

A careful observation of the brook and its surrounding foliage commenced.

Over the following days they were able to gather ample evidence that Ada’s hypothesis had been correct — and that the children had not failed in their harvesting duties. The fruit appeared and ripened supernaturally quickly, green and hard one day, red and plump the next.

And, in fact, such magic from a dragon was not unheard of. According to the elders, a friendly dragon brought not only protection but also prosperity and fertility. Ada had only ever heard tales of fire and destruction, but she was now unsurprised by her homeland’s tendency to vilify anything that they could not control.

The aphrodisiac properties worked on every willing volunteer except Ada herself. The fruit hardly worked at all on anyone reluctant who was cajoled into a nibble or two by mischievous friends or lovers. The children who stole slices on dares felt no effects either.

That seemed very right, to Ada. She didn’t want any fruit of her body, literally or figuratively, to cause anyone to do anything that they did not truly want to do.

And to anyone who ate it, whether they experienced the aphrodisiac properties or not, the fruit was the most delicious that they had ever tasted.

The King and Queen held another riotous party to celebrate the blessing to the island. They, of course, served the very fruit that they were celebrating and so the revelry descended into orgy even more quickly than usual.

And though Ada was delighted to watch, on that particular night, she did not feel particularly inclined to participate. A quiet thought occurred to her and she withdrew to sit on their favorite rock and listen to the ocean.

It was nice to be alone for a time, with the rustle of the ocean and the glimmering blanket of stars.

She had hoped to not distract Pasco from his own enjoyment, but an hour or so later, she heard his footsteps in the sand behind her. He came and sat next to her on the rock and was also quiet.

She put her hand on his. It was warm.

He wrapped his arm around her.

She melted into him.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” he asked.

She searched for words for the quiet thought. “I think I… remembered something that I didn’t know before.”

“Hm.” He sounded thoughtful, but not skeptical.

“The fruit and… prosperity and fertility. It feels… amazing to bring that here. That… that my body is making that here. And thinking about that, that’s how I remembered. I don’t think I ever knew it before, but… but I think it has to do with…”

 She wasn’t quite sure how to say it. She had always jokingly referred to it as ‘the curse’, but she knew in her very core that it was not a curse at all. And yet, calling it a ‘blessing’ was too trite. It was so much more than that. 

But what she had remembered wasn’t because of what had happened to her, either blessing or curse. It was because of what she was. And then, Ada had the words. She turned to Pasco and cupped his face in her hand, finding his eyes which were now midnight blue. “I cannot have children because I am a dragon.”

Her moon blood had not come since the witch’s incantation. The reason that it felt like remembering was that even then, she had known without words. While she had lived in the castle, she had always been very careful about where exactly her male lovers put their seed. An affair, she could risk. A pregnancy that her parents would reject, she could not. 

Yet, since she had first felt the thrill of flight, she had not once worried about such things. She might have thought it was carelessness, not minding where Pasco’s seed went. But just as her body had known how to fly as soon as she had spread her wings, her body had known of this thing at her first flush of arousal.

There was a strange irony to it. The witch’s wish had been for her to become a hideous beast, unloved and untended. Perhaps her intent had rung true, after all. To the small-minded misogynists of Ada’s homeland, there was no creature more hideous than a barren princess. All her ‘value’ as a princess lay in her marriage, and all the value of that marriage lay in her ability to bear heirs. 

A princess that could not bear heirs could not be married, and a princess that could not be married was not a princess at all, just a parasite. It was the cold, cruel truth behind all her parents’ nagging.

It was the unspoken reason she had rebelled so vigorously against their insistences. They may have taken such a thing for granted but Ada, most certainly, had not.

“Hm,” Pasco said again. “Do you want to be able to have children?”

“No,” Ada said. “I want to be a dragon.” That was her certain, quiet thought. It was not the realization that she couldn’t have children that had brought her out to this pensive rock on the shore. It was the realization that she didn’t want to. 

In Ada’s homeland, barrenness was a curse but not wanting to have children was a sin. The tiny, cruel part of her heart that had listened to her mother had set upon that thought and said all sorts of terrible things to Ada. Ada had stepped out to this quiet place to let that part of her heart burn itself out and then dissolve like the lingering smoke of a snuffed candle into the heaving expanse of the ocean.

And so it had. It had long gone cold by the time Pasco had arrived. She was curious, though not anxious, for Pasco’s response.

“Well, then it sounds like everything is alright,” he said.

It almost was. There was something else she needed to know. “Do you want to have children?”

“It’s your body,” he said without hesitation.

“Yes, but it’s our life.”

His hand found her cheek too, and they spent a long moment that way.

She knew that he was searching, quietly sifting an honest answer from the golden sands of his heart. Whatever that answer was, she would cherish it.

Finally, he drew his breath to speak. “I would have a hundred children or none to be by your side for as long as you’ll have me. I never dreamed much of things this way or that, until I met you. And since then, I have dreamed much, and always of whichever way that you are.”

She closed her eyes and leaned into him, pressing her forehead against his. With their hand’s against each other’s cheeks like this, in mirror, she remembered the slipknot. “It’s alright if your feelings change,” she whispered.

“I promise I will tell you if they ever do,” he whispered back.

She folded into him and they leaned back against the rock, which was still warm from the afternoon sun and which smelled ever so faintly of sweat.

As his warmth enveloped her, a surge of emotion stirred in her heart like a chick cracking open its egg.

Through a knot in her throat, she said, “I’m going to cry now and it’s a lovely, happy cry, alright?”

“Alright,” he nodded, and his own eyes were already misting.

She clutched him closely to herself and let the emotion break forth, let it shake her body and pour water from her eyes. As when she pulled against his ropes, she now trembled against his stillness as was comforted by the way that he held firm.

And just like with the ropes, she knew that there would be a time when they traded places, and he would tremble against her stillness.

And that singular, beautiful knowing drew her gently into peace. 

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Part 5: Paradise, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 27: Playful

Eventually, Ada stirred, lifting her body and stretching long like a cat. She yawned, revealing her hand-size fangs and her long, forked tongue.

Pasco looked up at her and smiled, the way that she looked up at him when she was between his legs. She was impressed with herself that the thought did not lead her immediately into frenzied arousal, and she suspected that it was the combination of the song and Pasco’s calming presence.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Really… relaxed. It’s nice.”

“I was thinking, if you want to, you might try to take a flight like this. You wouldn’t have to worry about falling.”

Ada stood up so quickly that a wave of water surged from the pool and drenched Pasco. He laughed good-naturedly.

“That is a great idea!” She’d been yearning to fly since she’d left her tower, but hadn’t really had the chance to. When she’d been alone in her fields she could keep enough of a handle on herself to at least land before she transformed, but she hadn’t trusted herself since she’d started on this voyage, and especially not after the incident with the sirens.

But, she had just thoroughly tested the locket’s magic, and was sure that it could contain even her draconic urges. The soothing melody was more of an invitation than an insistence, but if she let it, it really did calm her down.

She had also very thoroughly tested Pasco’s resolve, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could trust him with this. Ada was starting to understand something about herself that explained a lot in her life, which was that even before the tower and the curse, stress aroused her. The pressures of royal life, the disapproval of her parents, her frustrations with her studies, all of that had set her hunting for sex.

It had not just been the lingering exhaustion from the sirens that had seen her libido relax over the past few days. It had been that she herself had been relaxed. There was little to stress about out here in this island paradise, and many ways other than sex to alleviate any stress that lingered.

She’d helped haul cargo to and from the boats that came and went, she’d gathered around fires to eat ripe fruit and listen to pirate stories and tell her own, and she’d set about learning the names of each of the children that careened around the town. One of them had made her a headband with little conch shells like her horns and a frill of mismatched parrot feathers, and she had put it on and pretended to be her dragon self and had chased them all around the huts and jungle brush and miles of sand until they had collapsed in a laughing heap at the center of town.

Pasco, for his part, did not seem aroused by stress and that seemed like a good thing. Their different inclinations created a delightful tension. Pulling at the ropes felt good not because she wanted to escape, but because they assured her that she couldn’t.

She’d have to tell him about this, later, but for the time being the sky was calling her.

She spread her wings in a spray of water that Pasco ducked playfully, but he was soon dry again as the powerful down-strokes of her wings washed over him and set the surface of the pool rippling.

And then she was in the sky. She started low, skimming the tops of the trees, her dragon eyes incredibly sharp, noticing every fluttering parrot and leaping monkey making their way through the treetops. She flew in no particular direction, then banked, tracing larger and larger circles out from the grove.

She angled towards the cluster of huts, sweeping low a couple of times and enjoying the way that the pirates stepped out to marvel, clapping and cheering as she flew over, the king and queen themselves waving up at her.

But that was just the a warm up. Ada pumped her wings, gaining height. Each island in the chain was a ring of sand around clumps of green vegetation, like emeralds set in gold. Even as she rose, the song never became any quieter. It stayed, soft and soothing, as if playing inside her very mind. And, she realized, it probably was.

She climbed even higher, and the song did not fade, and she suspected she could have flown to the other end of the earth and still she would have heard the melody of Pasco’s locket, just the same. That was a limit she had no interest in testing, however. She very much liked to be on the same end of the earth as Pasco.

Ada spiraled higher until she could cover the whole image of the island with her outstretched claw, and then something draconic and primal swelled urgently inside her.

But it was not arousal. It was play.

She twisted into a dive and then snapped her wings wide, catching herself with a wonderful spin in her stomach. She flapped hard and then angled her wings so that she spun through the air like a streamer, then banked into a spiral that drew tighter and tighter.

Like a ribbon kite she twirled and fluttered through the air, undulating through maneuver after maneuver that she had no idea she was capable of.

Joy surged out from her chest in a gout of flame and she soared through the hot air, which tickled her scales. She did that over and over again, creating flashes of red in the sunny sky, until she could breathe no more fire.

The sun had been high overhead when she had started her flight, and it was not until it was sliding down over the blushing horizon that Ada finally tired.

She started to glide down over the island in long, sweeping circles, taking in the scenery again. From this height she could still see the whole island chain, which had turned to a ruby necklace in the sunset.

Even though she had paid no conscious mind to mapping her surroundings, she knew exactly where to go to return to the glade, another surprising ability of the dragon. She swept low over the huts with the sun at her back, watching her shadow roll ahead of her as if she followed another dragon that knew the way.

She angled her wings and glided back towards the glade, where the waterfall tumbled down like red wine into the violet pool below.

Pasco was still there, his back against a rock next to the waterfall, and he waved at her as she approached. There was no where large enough for her to land except the center of the pool. As she dropped into it, a wave washed out over the borders of the pool and Pasco jumped up so as to not get soaked again.

The water had been warm before but now it felt cool and refreshing, perhaps because she’d built up so much heat from her vigorous exercise. Instinctively, she let her wings stay unfurled and dipped them into the water, sighing happily as the water pulled the heat from them.

Pasco settled down again on the rock that was even with the pool’s edge. He was naked, his shaft flaccid. Like when he had petted her snout, the experience was sensual and not overtly sexual. It was nice to finally be able to see him both ways.

“How was your flight?” He asked.

“It was amazing,” Ada said, her voice rumbling softly like the waterfall.

“You looked like you were having fun!”

“You saw?”

“A little bit.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Taking a nap. This is one of my favorite spots on the island.” The locket still rested on his chest, open, the soft song flowing out.

Ada tucked her wings in and settled deeper into the pond. She had never felt so content in her life.

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Part 5: Paradise, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 24: Boundaries

For the rest of the journey from the sirens’ rock to the pirate islands, Ada was not the least bit interested in anything to do with sex.

It was kind of nice, actually. While Pasco was busy captaining, Sendia gave her further lessons in pirate history and culture, so that she at least somewhat knew what to expect when they reached the isles.

As Pasco had said, he was a prince. He was the eldest and the heir, and both of his parents still lived. According to Sendia, the pirate queen and king were fearsome and cunning and well-loved. Given that pirates were not much for rules, the queen and king retained their authority on merit. Their strategy was twofold, like a carrot and a stick. For the pirates loyal to them, there were riches overflowing. Conversely, any who opposed them were swiftly crushed.

The way that Pasco’s crew revered him, Ada was sure that he was well on his way to a similar legacy. Would she stay at his side? Become the dragon queen of pirates? She hoped so.

The island chain started as a hazy purple blur on the horizon. As they sailed, the misty outline of rocky cliffs and swaying greens emerged. As they neared a cove, brilliant red parrots flew from tree to tree and seals splashed onto rocks alongside the ship.

The cove was already lined with other boats, each with their own colorful character. The Wanderlust put down her anchor in the deeper water and rowboats came out to meet the crew.

What followed was a flurry of activity, the crew lowering cargo down to the rowboats that went back and forth to the shore. Pasco, as the captain, would be last to leave, so Ada waited as she watched it all go by.

Finally, she joined Pasco and Forte rowed them to shore. 

Ada felt equally eager and anxious. If his parents didn’t like her, would this all come crashing down? Would he defy them for her? Or was she worrying for nothing? If they had raised Pasco, surely they couldn’t dislike her so much. Though, she considered how different her own tastes were from her parents, and her worrying renewed.

The pirates’ castle was the island itself, carpeted with peat, walls of lush trees and ferns, adorned with brilliant flowers and twirling vines and birds of every color. Ada recognized some of them from her books, but others were totally alien to her.

Pasco lead her along a path up the hill that ringed the cove, until they came upon a clearing of dozens of huts with thatched roofs.

Men and women bustled between the structures, carrying baskets of fruits and roasting birds on outdoor spits, tasting from simmering pots and arranging fragrant herbs. It smelled amazing.

In the middle of the huts was an open area that was shaping up similarly to the party on Pasco’s deck, with barrels and trays of food everywhere.

Pasco picked up a ripe, pink fruit and tossed it to Ada. She took a bite, moaning at the wonderful taste. It was like nothing she’d ever had before, sweet and refreshing at once. 

As she finished the fruit, Pasco took her hand and lead herself to the center of the preparations where a man and a woman were rattling off instructions.

The man was taller and broader than Pasco, his hair cut short and a full salt-and-pepper beard spilling down his chest. His thick arms were ringed with tattoos, even more densely than Pasco’s, and he wore nothing but a grass skirt and a golden necklace. He had a healthy layer of fat and even with his rounded belly Ada knew he did not lack for athleticism.

The woman was a bit taller than Ada, her black hair drawn back from her face in a long ponytail, grey streaks at her temples. She too wore only a grass skirt and jewelry, though hers was more elaborate, loops of golden chains draped across her chests and breasts, hung with gems of every color. The tattoo rings around her arms were so dense that it looked like she wore black lace sleeves.

Ada did not have to ask whether the couple before her were the king and queen. They had an air of comfortable command, and she saw Pasco in each of their features. 

They both beamed as Pasco approached. 

“Ah,” the woman sang, “My boy!” Pasco went over to her and she wrapped him in a big hug, nearly lifting him off the ground. When his father came over, he lifted them both up, and Pasco protested until his feet were back on the ground..

“I thought you were coming back with a dragon!” The king laughed.

The queen came over to Ada, regarding her warmly and picking up Ada’s hands in hers. She had callouses like Pasco, which couldn’t have been more different than Ada’s own mother, who would hardly even use a fork for fear of toughening her hands.

“Instead,” the queen said, “You’ve brought us this lovely creature!”

“Actually,” Pasco said, “She is the dragon.”

The queen’s eyes widened. “Truly?”

Ada blushed and nodded. Was he really going to just tell his parents about her orgasms! In front of her? Then again… they were each so sincere, and his mother was already practically topless, so she couldn’t imagine they’d be shy about it. The only reason she’d be embarrassed was fear that they’d judge her as wrong or broken or unclean somehow, but… wouldn’t Pasco have warned her if he expected them to receive her with anything less than warm enthusiasm?

“Truly,” Ada said, working up her courage. 

Pasco nodded at her encouragingly.

“It’s a long story, but… a witch tried to curse me. When I… um, climax, I turn into a dragon.”

Their eyes widened.

“And it works the other way too,” she clarified quickly.

The queen squeezed Ada’s hand. “What an incredible blessing!”

Ada worried that the queen’s enthusiasm might turn into a request for demonstration, but fortunately, they seemed to have at least some sense of boundaries.

The king marveled, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “That we might be so lucky. You may as well be a god among us, to have such a gift.”

Ada blushed. “Oh no, not at all, I’m just…”

“Yes, what’s your name, dear?” the queen said.

“Ada.”

“Well, Ada, we are delighted to have you.” She wrapped Ada in a warm hug, and Ada could have cried. “And don’t let the king tease you with that god stuff, we’re happy to have you just the way you are, however that is.” Then, Ada did start crying. The queen sensed it and leaned back, her hands gently on Ada’s shoulders. “What’s the matter, dear?”

Ada shook her head, smiling, and wiped her eyes. “Nothing, I just… my parents are nothing like this. I’m very glad to be here.”

The queen smiled and patted Ada’s arm before stepping back to a more conversational distance. She clasped her hands together gleefully. Ada would have thought that the queen’s expressive demeanor would have made her seem less regal, but it was not the case. It was more like the queen was a force of nature herself, body and heart moving powerfully together, even her gleeful smile inspiring reverence.

“Well, that’s enough foreplay,” the king said. “There is much to celebrate. Now, we feast!”

Ada was momentarily concerned, but the king seemed to have been using the euphemism metaphorically.

As the feast began, Ada could not help but think that there was something sensual about them eating all these wonderful foods together. There was ripe fruit and freshly roasted meat, boiled eggs and seared vegetables, fermented coconut water and cocoa beans.

Ada’s sexual exhaustion from the siren encounter lingered, and for once she was able to just enjoy the party, dancing and singing, eating and drinking. 

She asked them about how they had become the King and Queen and they regaled her with their tales of adventure and suspense, intrigue and romance. Without a breath’s hesitation they recounted the night that they had conceived Pasco. He laughed at the story he had clearly heard before, unblushing. 

He had three other siblings, a brother and a sister who were still at sea, and a sister who was sixteen and who sat wide-eyed at her mother’s elbow, hanging on Pasco’s every word. It was clear she admired him deeply and Ada was sure he was sweet to her. 

Something about tattoos came up and Ada pressed for more, and Pasco explained that each one was a memory. They represented significant moments. Victories, triumphs, celebrations but also defeats and regrets. 

“The good and the bad,” the queen had explained, “they all make us who we are and we wear them on our skin.”

Ada begged to hear the stories and they happily obliged, each pirate in turn regaling her with a tale of glory or woe or mischief. 

As the night continued on and sleepiness took over her, Pasco carried her back to his own hut. She fell asleep on a pile of cushions, under the caress of the warm dusk breeze.

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Part 4: The Trouble with Sirens, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 23: A Gift

Pasco scooped Ada up and nodded to Missa and Forte. Forte belayed them so that Pasco could rappel down, Ada gripped close. 

She was so small, like this. 

They landed by the moored boat and Missa removed the anchor above and started to climb down. Pasco settled Ada in the boat, and as he stood to wait for Missa, he noticed a tangle of pink seaweed-like hair peek over the edge of the rock. 

He drew his sword, but the siren merely scooted herself slightly further up the rock so that she could plop sleepily next to them. She waved a hand dismissively at his sword.

“Two thingsssss,” the pink siren said, waving two fingers in front of her as a drunkard might.

“One… the dragon is welcome back… anytime.” The pink siren giggled happily.

It really was like she was drunk. Is this how sirens got when they finally fucked themselves out?

“TuuuuWOO!” the siren waved her hand around. “I have… a thank you gift… for sharing your dragon friend.”

Pasco quirked an eyebrow and glanced at Forte. The other pirate shrugged.

The siren pulled up her other arm with some labor and put something on the rock in front of her. It was something small, on a chain, and it was especially slimy.

Pasco nudged it with the tip of his sword. “Was this in your…”

“It’sssss important! For the magic. Take it.” She pushed it towards his feet.

“Can I wash it first?”

“Yes yes.” The siren waved her hand dismissively at him. “Now, asssssk what it does.”

“What does it do?”

“It holdsss one of my songs. The dragon… likes our songs. Nobody… likes our songs anymore. I noticed…” the pink siren lolled to look up at Pasco, and seemed remarkably lucid in that moment, “that you also liked… how she likes our songs.”

Pasco blushed, which wasn’t like him. Which also meant that the siren was right.

“If you wear it… and open it… it’ll play a little song. She won’t be able to come… until you come…”

“Oh.” He quickly picked up the locket, no longer caring about where it had recently been. This was a precious object to be protected, regardless of its state of cleanliness. “That’s actually… that’s actually really amazing. Does it have some sort of limit? Like a number of charges?”

“I’m not sure how many,” the siren said, “I don’t usually give giftssss. But, when it runs out… You’ll jussssst have to come back and visit, and I can recharge it for you.” The siren rested her cheek on her hand and grinned up at him.

He narrowed his eyes at her and considered. “She’ll have to want to,” he said. “She just said she hates sirens.”

“She’ll want to, eventually. But don’t worry. I wasn’t too ssssssstingy. Well, I wanted to be. But it chargessss by coming and she just kept… making me and… making me and…” The siren’s eyes started to glaze over and she sunk back off the rock like a drunk pushing too far back in their chair. She yelped and pulled herself up, just as Missa reached the bottom of the rock.

She didn’t say anything else, but just looked up at them, dreamily. Probably rubbing herself underneath the water.

“You know,” Pasco said, “People would still be affected by your songs if you didn’t keep fucking pirates so much that all pirates have siren’s blood.”

The siren pouted at that. “It’s not my fault,” she said. “We just… can’t… stop…”

She was definitely rubbing herself under the water.

“Okay, time to go,” Pasco said.

Missa and Forte were already in the boat. Pasco hopped in and shoved off and Forte started rowing. Pasco adjusted Ada, who was now sound asleep, to nestle in his lap. 

He carefully dipped the locket in the saltwater to clean it, then took a closer look. It seemed to be made of a closed clamshell. The surface was carved with swirling runes. He gently pulled it open, and the runes started to glow slightly. A soft melody whispered out. Ada stirred, and he quickly closed it. 

They’d figure out later exactly how it worked. He’d normally have been exceedingly suspicious of a siren, but he was quite sure that that one was too dazed to lie.

Would Ada ever want to go back? He selfishly hoped she would. But for now, he was happy to see her safe. 

Pasco could tell that Ada was truly exhausted by that she chose to continue to sleep below-deck even while the upper deck became a full-on orgy. They’d be even later in getting to the pirate capital, but that was better than losing the ship because they were trying to sail while incapacitated by arousal.

The pirates with lesser siren’s blood like Sendia couldn’t help but fuck themselves to exhaustion like Ada had, but the others would be sated enough after a good couple of rounds.

It was only right for Pasco to join in — after all, he couldn’t ask his crew to do anything he wasn’t willing to do himself, orgies included. And even though Ada was below deck, he still found himself to be particularly motivated. For two reasons. 

One, the scent of Ada still lingered in the air, having poured out of the cove and over the surface of the ocean. Two, the locket around his neck, seashell light and cool on his skin. Even closed, it filled his mind with thoughts of Ada begging for release, and that was something he could not wait to see again.

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Part 3: Setting Sail, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 17: The Wanderlust

For better or worse, Ada’s dreams took a turn towards the unpleasant. As she awoke, still spread eagle on the bed, wrists and ankles bound, she was feeling considerably less horny. Her dreams faded quickly but she was left with a lingering feeling of rejection.

Nothing like a light fog of shame to take the edge off in the morning. She was also quite sore.

She didn’t have to wait long before Pasco also stirred.

“How are you feeling?”

“Alright. A bit sore.”

Pasco looked a bit worried. “Maybe I shouldn’t have left you…”

“No,” Ada said. “It was very necessary. I’m alright now, though. We set out on your ship today, right?”

Pasco nodded. “First thing, so it’ll only be an hour or two before we’re out on the open sea.”

“Alright, I can handle that. You can untie me.”

Pasco cast her a wary look. “Can I?”

“Yeah, I’m fine now.”

“I dunno,” he said, “You were pretty ready to go on a murderous rampage last night.”

“You look like you wish you could haul me onto the ship still tied to this bed,” Ada said.

“Would you like that?” Pasco crooned.

A spark of arousal. Ada closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes, but we really shouldn’t talk like this. All business until we get out to sea.”

Pasco nodded. “All business.” He untied her and she worked the blood back into her tired muscles.

They rejoined the others on the main floor of the tavern, which was now empty and quiet, and then made their way down more rickety stairs and makeshift bridges to the docks.

Pasco’s ship looked absolutely royal. The sails were a brilliant blue, the decks were trimmed with railings carved into delicate swirls, and the maidenhead at the front had her chest high, her arms spread wide, and was totally naked. The ship’s name was painted on her flank in sweeping script. Wanderlust.

They climbed aboard and Pasco left Ada near the wheel of the ship, where she could see what was happening but stay relatively out of the way. Pasco was not just captain in name. As he barked firm orders at his crew and they dutifully obeyed, Ada felt herself swelling with pride and arousal.

Fortunately, her curiosity about the workings of the ship kept her attention. She watched the crew shuffle back and forth and traced the web of ropes that ran the whole ship. Well, her curiosity kept her attention until she imagined being caught up in those ropes herself, expertly tied by Pasco, him barking orders at her.

Ada gulped and tried to get a handle on herself. One more hour. She could do that, right? One more hour?

She wouldn’t have made it if Sendia hadn’t come over. Ada asked her question after question about the ship and its crew, and Sendia was happy to answer. 

As the boat was about to push off, another sailor came over and beckoned to Sendia. The other woman stood, but Ada reached out and grabbed her hand. “Wait! Sendia I… I really need distracting.”

“Oh!” Sendia said. “I wondered why you were so interested in boats all of a sudden. Jack, can you cover for me? It’s very important, I swear.”

Jack eyed her suspiciously.

“Kraken eat me!” Sendia insisted. “I’m serious!”

Jack grumbled, but jogged back down the deck.

“Okay, so,” Sendia returned her attention to Ada, newly enthused. “The way that a capstan works is…”

As Sendia rattled on and on and on, Ada settled into the soothing sound of her voice. Ada’s attentions were able to turn more fully to the view in front of her as the boat set sail and the wind pulled it out onto the open sea.

Everything about the ocean was new and wonderful.

The endless expanse of blue.

The brilliantly intense sunlight.

The gently rolling waves interspersed with crowning dolphins, the smell of salt and algae, the seabirds drifting overhead with their wings spread wide.

Ada felt like one of those sea birds, floating along in unlimited blue. She realized that she no longer needed Sendia’s distraction, and instead she welcomed Sendia’s company. The pirate told Ada all about this stretch of coast, the striped sea cliffs which were nearly out of view, the island chain that they were traveling towards but could not yet see.

The ocean was everything that Ada had imagined and so much more. And though it was so new, it felt so… familiar. So right. She wondered if that was the dragon in her, since Pasco had mentioned that dragons tended to live out on the sea, nowadays. Or, perhaps it was Ada herself, who’d never quite felt at peace anywhere she couldn’t see the horizon.

Everything about the last week had been so new, and yet so right, that Ada worried that she might actually be in a dream. But did she really believe that her imagination was capable of conjuring up all this? Surely not.

And she was sure that this new life that she was hurtling into would not be all sunshine and blue skies. She had read about the terrible power of the sea, violent storms and rogue waves, windless skies and whirlpools. It had some dangerous inhabitants, which Sendia had alluded to — kraken and serpents and strange spirits.

And Ada could not be more excited for all of it. She was so happy to be on deck, so excited to take it all in, that even when Sendia had to get back to work and Pasco stopped to check on her, Ada assured him that she was quite content for the time being.

She stayed on deck, the wind in her hair and her mind drifting out over the waves, all the way until sunset. The cool blue sky turned hazy, then an orange tinge took over the horizon. The orange spread slowly upwards, reaching towards the sun. When they met, the sky ignited brilliant red, turning the ocean to crimson with it. The sun dripped down towards the endless waves of heat, slipping slowly inside.

As the last bit of the sun quivered then finally released, sinking down below the horizon, Ada realized that she was quite worked up again.

She’d also totally missed the bustle of activity behind her, where the deck had transformed from strictly business to a warm and lively feast. Dread pulsed in Ada’s stomach — or was it arousal? — as she realized that in watching the sunset, she had missed her own opportunity for release. She didn’t want to miss the party, after all.

Pasco noticed that Ada had finally surfaced from her reverie and came over to her then. “How are you doing?”

“Thirsty,” she said. She meant it both literally and sexually.

“Well, there’s ale and fresh water out now, help yourself.” There was a glint in his eyes that told Ada he’d caught her drift.

“Do you have parties every night?”

Pasco laughed. “Not quite, we do have to actually be productive.”

“‘Being productive’ here meaning, what, raiding other ships?”

“Some raiding,” Pasco said, “Some hunting for buried treasure, some keeping up diplomacies with the other pirates and ocean dwellers, some plundering, and so on. Never any raping though. Not sure what rumors make it up to land.”

“That’s good to hear,” Ada said. “If you don’t party every night, then what’s the occasion?”

“Well, to welcome our new guest, of course!”

Ada blushed, and not from arousal. Ada had been paraded around at parties plenty of times, and many of them had been in her honor. She’d enjoyed the attention, especially the sexual attention which always came after, when she drew in eager suitors with her honeyed words and they were all too happy to please her. Well, they were happy to please Her Majesty. Her Majesty was a character that Ada played, and it had not been unpleasant. It had allowed her to be everything that she was expected to be. Prim, proper, demure, and then greedy, demanding, inconsiderate.

As much fun as it had been, though, Her Majesty was still just a character. It had seemed that before, nobody in the world knew that underneath it all she was… just Ada.

But, Pasco knew. And Sendia and Missa and Teoda and Forte. None of them had asked her to be anything other than what she was.

A party for Ada, not for Her Majesty? She had no idea what to do. It all felt very… vulnerable.

Pasco seemed to notice her introspection. “I thought you might enjoy it,” he said softly, “but it’s okay if you don’t like it. I don’t want to put any undue pressure on you. It’s just that to me…” He tucked a piece of her hair back behind her ear. “You’re worth celebrating.”

A wave of emotion swelled within Ada and then broke on her shore, sending a soft stream of tears from her eyes. Pasco wiped her cheeks with his warm, calloused hand.

He gave her a moment. Unhurried, he said, “What do you think?”

“I love it,” she said with certainty. “There’s a lot to celebrate!”

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Part 3: Setting Sail, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 15: Table Stakes (Part III)

Pasco took a moment to check his surroundings, looking for anyone now making either too much or too little eye contact. There were none, the other patrons quite thoroughly involved in their own, albeit less orgasmic, revelry.

Leaning over the table, red-faced, out of breath, he simply looked like someone who’d had too much to drink. He teetered there for a long moment.

Ada tapped on his knee. “Can I come up?”

“Oh! Uh… not yet.”

Pasco waited until the table nearest them erupted in laughter at some joke, then beckoned to Ada. She popped up next to him, caught his eyes, then licked her lips.

Pasco nearly fell over again. He had no idea how she could disarm him so utterly. Nobody had ever done that to him before. Though he was loathe to put any fetters on her freedom, he hoped she’d never leave.

“I told you so,” she said, making no efforts to hide her smugness. She plucked Pasco’s mug of mead off of the table in front of her and started downing it. “Man, this stuff is good.”

“I thought that was cheating?” Pasco said.

“Well, for you, yeah. For me it’s just a good idea. You have no idea how hot that was.” Ada wiped off her mouth on the back of her hand.

“I, uh, think I do actually.” Pasco took a moment to re-button his trousers and fasten his belt.

Pem stopped by, then. She was at first surprised to see Ada there, but then between Ada’s happy theft of Pasco’s drink and the surely idiotic grin that he was now sporting, she must have decided all was well with the world. She gave Pasco an especially knowing smile, stopped her fretting, and moved on.

“Gods, you’re good at that,” Pasco said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ada looked up at him over the mug of mead. “Chugging?”

“I meant— well, they’re related talents, I suppose.”

Ada grinned proudly. “I’m very good at both, here, watch!” She tipped back the half-full mug. As her throat flexed to swallow, the unbidden image came to Pasco’s mind of her around him, greedily drinking him down. His dick had softened but it twitched against his trousers again.

“No fair,” he whined.

“No,” Ada said, slamming the empty mug down, “What’s unfair is that I can’t sneakily come anymore. That’s one of the best things about being a woman.” Ada stuck her lip out in the cutest pout, and the best part was, Pasco was sure she wasn’t being dramatic on purpose. Her grief was genuine.

“I thought you liked your… situation.”

Ada heaved a sigh. “I mean, I do. But I’m allowed to miss some things.”

Pasco paused. “We… hadn’t had much time to talk about it but… are you really alright to leave your homeland? Will you miss… well, your family? Your home?”

Ada put her chin on her hand and looked out at the tavern, then up at Pasco. “A little bit, I guess. Definitely won’t miss my family, good riddance. Godspeed and all, but I wouldn’t be mad to never see them again. Let them think I finally died up in that stupid tower. The tower was fine, but, lonely. Maybe I’ll miss the fields, the blueberry pie, my books, but… like I said. I’m allowed to miss things. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.”

Pasco hadn’t realized how truly anxious he was about it until hearing that from her put him deeply at ease.

“Y’know, I…” Ada looked back out over the tavern. “I never really had any friends, before. I know that’s stupid to say. I know they say that it’s the power imbalance that does it, but… I feel like the truth is, it’s just me. Princess or not.”

Pasco reached across the table and lifted Ada’s chin off of her hand with his fingertips. He understood, very deeply, the sort of thing that she was talking about. He was blessed with better parents than hers, it seemed, but the expectations of royalty still weighed upon him. 

He knew what it was to have to pretend to be strong, to pull on the heavy mantle of royalty, to stand tall and proud even while you ached and fretted. He was fortunate to have friends, like Teoda and Forte and Missa and Sendia, who never thought any less of him even when they saw his soft spots.

Ada had never had such friends. Despite her fiery resolve, her insatiable appetite for adventure, the way she had taken her abrupt tumble into a new life totally in stride, he expected that she sometimes found herself feeling scared and alone. He knew that he did, anyway.

Could he be so presumptuous to think that they were not just lovers now? He found her eyes and ran his fingers back through her hair, then held her cheek. “I like being your friend.”

Tears welled in Ada’s eyes. She jumped up, and for a moment Pasco panicked, worried that he’d accidentally offended her.

She stepped around the table and threw her arms around him.

He pulled her close, scooping her up onto his lap, facing him.

She hugged him, hard, her cheek against his. She nestled into the base of his neck. “And you’ll never bore me,” she whispered. “I promise.”

After a moment, she leaned back, but didn’t seem eager to leave. Pasco leaned forward and she kissed him. Gently, first, just her soft lips against his. Then hungrier, more insistent. They folded together, one of his hands against her back, his other gripping her thigh, hers tangled up in his hair. She tasted like honey mead and it made his mouth water even more.

Pasco knew that Pem swept by again because he heard the woman giggle as she went. It was a good thing that, for whatever reason, making out was fine by the tavern’s rules even though sex wasn’t. Because, if they’d taken any issue with it, there was nothing on earth that could have stopped him.

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