“Ladies and Gentlemen, if I may have your attention one more time?” Rykard said, his voice raised but his tone so casual it matched the manner in which he put his clothes back on. Miyo decided to keep sitting at his feet, stretching her legs halfway while leaning against his. She was every bit the spitting image of the perfect submissive queen and deserved a large gathering of cushions to linger on rather than grass and stone.

All of that would be acquired in time, alongside a throne room worthy for a harem. For the time being, Rykard waited for his words to carry to the surrounding artists and for them to form a crowd around them.

As he put his arms through the red sleeves of his custom-fit uniform, he started his speech. “I understand, of course, that you people are accustomed to your way of life. Metal and paint is what you know and I respect that. As I said, I will do my utmost to let the teasing statues you create be spread across the realm. I would want to see at least one of them on each of my Hexagons.”

He buttoned up his shirt and then put the black-gold military vest on top. “However, I believe you should aim for more. Your artistry is impressive and why limit yourself to the materials you have when the metals you have access to are the backbone of any major economy? Mine, my friends, mine and get rich, trade for all materials under the sun, and create even greater art! Prosper, prosper with the entire realm we are going to build!”

The speech hit the mark with the locals and they cheered in agreement. Trade and labor would take time away from their workshops, so their artistry would likely play second fiddle to their economic impact.

Such was the sacrifice of building a realm. All of the art would be worthless if there were no resources to keep the artists alive. Nourishment for the soul was ultimately worthless if nourishment for the stomach did not exist.

The final question he had to answer now, mostly to himself, was if he wanted to stay the two days to see the festival unfold or if he wanted to return to the estate immediately and plan his next acquisition with Miyo. There was no productive reason to stay, but he was sovereign and so he could decide to take a few days off whenever he wanted.

To stay felt like a waste of vital time. Especially in these early stages of the contest for world domination, gaining a lead was vital. Cascading advantages and all of that. The difference between two and three Hexagons in a realm was massive. The difference between thirty-three and thirty-four, not that much.

Rykard and Miyo stayed for an hour longer, making sure Kaela was good and that their message was heard. After that, they left the artists for their festival and for his message to propagate.

“I believe your decision to encourage mercantile tendencies was most wise, Rykard,” the vixen let him know, when they were on their own again. “A realm is nothing without an economy.”

“I was just thinking they truly could do so much more with wood,” Rykard stated, his smile letting her know that it was a joke. “In any case, we have to return to the Competitor’s Hexagon. I’ll need to be there to interface with the summoning again.”

They arrived back home one and a half days later late in the night and slept. It was the first night they actually spent in the great, empty mansion. The massive bed of his private chamber was adequate for the two of them, maybe for three or four women more. After that, it would get difficult. If he even wanted a bed to be shared with all of his haremettes. It could be a point of policy to invite them on a rotating schedule. Questions for when he had the need to make a decision.

It was the morning of Shapday, the 10th of Hexa. It was their fifth day on this realm and Rykard was woken up properly: with Miyo licking the length of his morning wood. “A pleasant start to the day, Master,” she wished him, kissing the engorged head.

“A pleasant start indeed,” Rykard agreed and put his hand between her big, fluffy ears. “You know, I do admire that you manage to time waking up so well.”

“Years of self-conditioning.” Miyo preened at his words, then wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock and went all the way down effortlessly. Up and down, she bobbed a few times. The pleasure accelerated Rykard’s heartbeat, fully peeling him out of the morning grogginess.

Rykard stretched, extending his arms far up. The little cracks of his joints were all second to the constant wet noises that sucked-in cheeks of his personal cumdump created. Six tails waved happily. Lustful shivers were evident in the way her hairs moved, whenever the cock hit the back of her throat and made her neck bulge.

Folding his hands behind his head, Rykard just let the pretty vixen do her submissive duty. In the meantime, he had a few things to review. First, he wanted to try a new aspect of his ability visualization spell. If he wove the magic correctly he should…

…wonderful, the spell worked. The Nation Overview was connected to the divine right bestowed upon him by the gods. It wasn’t a perfect representation, but it would still gather the data from the Hexagons he conquered into one easily analysable image. Very useful for making decisions.

It seemed the people of Aulone had truly taken to the merchant message and they were likely preparing stockpiles of metal to trade for other crafting materials and food as he received his blowjob.

As for the Estate Hexagon, because Miyo was his and saw herself as his, it was easy to coax a little intel out of her mind and channel that into a window, much like he drew information about himself out of his soul for the other Hexagons. There was no real change here. Unsurprising, since Miyo neither had time to learn while she was travelling with him nor generally time to improve.

Not everyone grew as quickly as him, Rykard had learned that long ago. Despite the past five days only posing minor challenges, it felt as if a part of him had been unleashed. A tingling sensation went up and down his spine, separate from the constant nerve-stimulation Miyo’s hot mouth blessed him with. No, this sensation reminded Rykard more of the days after he had thrown that fireball at Mariksfield.

He grinned widely and pushed Miyo down to the base of his cock. The vixen’s eyes opened wide in shock, for only a split second. Then she was all accustomed to his size again and brought him over the edge with little gyrations of her head.

Pumping the first load of the day down her throat was a truly liberating feeling. Nothing made him feel more like her Master than seeing the bred fox woman take his seed down her gullet like it was the sweetest nectar. She swayed her pretty, round bottom in rhythm of his waning spurts.

When the last of his cum had been coaxed out by the tongue massaging the lower half of his shaft. He let go of her head. Miyo only glided up to the point that she could breathe and then only further up when a gesture made clear he wanted her to. His cock popped out of her mouth with a satisfying sound. “Vigorous,” Miyo hummed approvingly, his erection maintained despite his orgasm.

“On your back,” Rykard ordered her and the redhead was swift to obey. He lost no time getting on top of her, sinking into her tight quim. Glistening fluids mixed with saliva and precum, easily letting him slide into her primary hole. Bowed over her, a hand resting gently on her neck, Rykard whispered, “I’m getting stronger again, Miyo.”

“Oh, Master!” The words had an euphoric effect on her. “Your stagnancy is…?”

“Over,” Rykard announced, his words underlined by the constant ‘plap, plap, plap!’ of his groin smacking against her jiggling ass and thighs. “Dull, it was so unfathomably dull. No assassination attempts, no wars, no challenges. I guess I was lacking a reason to grow.” He grinned and put controlled pressure on Miyo’s throat. Her eyes rolled up. Her moans were choked out. “I have every reason now. I’m the king of our realm, the Master of our harem. That sounds fun. Let’s see how far my potential truly reaches.”

“YEEESSSH!” Miyo shouted, the moment the pressure on her throat was gone. The sweet breath of life filled her lungs. Fresh air rushed through her body and set her sensitivity alight. Her back curved, arms and legs wrapped around him. “Master! Please fill me again! Your seed, I want your seed!”

Rykard was all too happy to provide, accelerating his pace to the point of reckless abandon. It was a short loving, especially by their standards, but she was screaming her lungs out from the constant orgasmic torrent, so who cared?

With one last thrust he slammed into her, filling her up with several spurts of thick cum. Not that its quality mattered much to a womb already claimed.

Spasming and giggling happily, Miyo remained on her back, when he left the bed. She’d get the ten minutes back that she had awoken before him. In that time, he would check how exactly he had improved. He could sense that he had, but it was always nicer to put a number on things.

Steady increases all around, with the threshold he previously thought himself bound to broken. How wonderful.

He left the spells active, for Miyo to look at when she inevitably joined him in the bathroom. They took turns grooming each other. It was infinitely more fun than to clean themselves. After they were satisfied with their appearances, they dried off and headed to the pantry. What was stocked was of the long-lasting variety, giving them a rather dull breakfast of dried meats, fruits, nuts, and water.

“A cook would be most appreciated,” Miyo stated. As a lady of the court, she only had basic experiences when it came to the hands-on aspects of running a household. Same could be said for Rykard. Both of them were perfectly capable of living on their own, despite what some bad mouthing peasants would say. They could cook, clean, and wash all to the same level as the average person, they were simply used to an expert servant staff who did it better than them.

“Perhaps I will find one,” Rykard teased, as he contemplated his next step. Either he could head out and request the next Hexagon or he could stay for the day and interact with Miyo, find out what exactly she wanted beyond a cook. ‘Best I make the decision informed,’ Rykard thought and checked on the progress his rivals had made.

Most were about even with him, having called upon and conquered their first Hexagon. Two had even conjured their second already, but had not yet annexed them. One rival had not even managed to conquer the first one they had summoned.

In other words, there was no worrisome lead for anyone yet. To work on keeping it that way or to relax for a day?

“Who would summon a desert as their first tile?” Miyo wondered, while Rykard rubbed her butt. The fox woman was laying on her chest on a massage lounger, inspecting the same map Rykard had looked at. Had he given himself more time, he could have mixed up some massage oil from whatever ingredients the mansion had in stock. As a crafty alchemist, he could create most basic things from most basic ingredients. It was just a matter of applying transmutation carefully.

That being said, he did not care to take the time when the redhead was right in front of him. Perhaps later in the day, when they inevitably decided to take some hours apart. Even the perfect couple could use some alone time. Miyo had studying to do and Rykard would do whatever he wished.

“I don’t know, maybe they eat sand?” Rykard suggested, only half joking. “The expanse of the god-touched planes surely holds some ridiculous species.”

“Or perhaps they reduced everything in the Hexagon to sand,” Miyo gave a darker interpretation. “By the time we saw this map, they had already moved on. Speaking of which...” The redhead turned onto her back, tail curved off to the side, and mustered Rykard. “...will you set out again soon?”

“No,” Rykard responded flippantly. His hands sought the squishy warmth of her breasts, now that her butt was pancaking on the leather clad top of the lounger. Wanting nothing more than to obey him, she presented her chest as much as she could while remaining seated. From the gentle parting of large breasts laying level, to nipples almost meeting each other under the kneading hands, and back again. There was so much to play with.

“Any reason?” Miyo investigated, purely curious.

“I just feel like spending some more time with you, my precious, willing sex slave,” Rykard said and twisted her nipples. The masochist held her breath, biting her lower lips with growing intensity. Her spine curved. Then all energy left her, alongside a moan, when he released the pretty pink crowns.

“As long as this doesn’t turn into another Whitewater situation,” Miyo cautioned between gasps. She stretched her neck, to start nibbling on to the tip of his cock, positioned just in range.

Rykard grabbed the back of her head and chuckled, when she took that as her signal to roll onto her side and suck him in deeper. He also chuckled at the memory of Whitewater. It was the name of a lovely little port town in the Troyk Empire, kept extremely wealthy and deliberately small by royal influence. Every three years, the imperial family and its closest affiliates would move there, for a one week festivity in honour of the royal house.

It was one of the many microcosms of court politics. Under the veneer of smiling faces, shared sips of champagne, and public announcements of friendship were the daggers in the dark and the conspicuous talks in the labyrinthine residence garden under the starlight. There was a reason why the festival began on the day of a new moon.

One of the more recent Whitewater festivals had been marked by a series of particularly desperate attempts on Rykard’s life. To find the assassin should have been an easy task and to track the one hiring them would have inevitably led to the ousting of that person. The perfect opportunity for Rykard and Miyo to rid themselves of a potential political rival.

Instead, Rykard had elected to test some new ropes that the traders had brought in. Only the finest of goods were brought to Whitewater, by a carefully selected cadre of merchants worthy of royal attention. Rykard had never worked with more pleasant ropes and Miyo had never sung higher praises about the quality of anything. It had bit her skin without leaving any of the usual marks.

Miyo spent hours dangling from the ceiling, bound and gagged, and Rykard spent hours using her casually, between meetings and interesting books he had grabbed from the library. So enticed was he by the process of stringing her up and using her, that he lost out on the window of tracking the assassin.

Miyo had been furious with him when she realised that had happened while she was in a blindfolded, gagged, orgasmic haze. Rykard had not and still did not care too much. Sure, he had let an assassin get away, but he had several hours of pounding her to show for it. A much sweeter memory.

“What is making a new world for my harem kingdom worth if I do not enjoy the presence of my own women?” Rykard asked and pulled his hips back. Miyo remained connected to the tip for as long as she could, before it popped out of her greedy pink lips.

“You will not enjoy your harem if you lose it,” she cautioned, tracking him as he moved the two steps to the upper end of the lounger. Settling on her back again, she gave him an upside down stare. “However, I will not complain about some additional attention, before you leave me to my lonesome.” Her tongue extended, she caressed the shaft as it was slowly pushed through air above her.

Rykard measured how deep his cock would go in her throat. Deep enough to see the entirety of her neck bulge, he reckoned. “You are allowed to masturbate,” he said casually. The vixen stayed her hands, until he had aligned his cock with her lips. He pushed inside and she sensually curved her fingers into her bred hole. He slid past her tongue, and the second hand rubbed her exposed clit. He started to fuck her face, and her pace matched his accelerating use of her comfort hole.

In and out, feeling the vibrations of her muffled cries and the wetness of her throat. Precum mixed with spit and mucus, making a messy solution that soon drew in thick strands between her lips and his groin. His balls slapped against her nose. If his cock hadn’t been making her entire neck bulge, she would have taken in his scent eagerly.

Miyo accelerated and slowed, less and less matching his pace and more and more edging herself. “Good girl,” Rykard hummed at that sight. Two words that almost ruined the efforts of the big-titted submissive. Soft bits on chest and thighs quivered, her hips shot up and she had to withdraw both hands from her sex to keep herself from climaxing. The trained surge of delight was that powerful. Only after a minute, did she resume teasing herself.

With the casual certainty of using a hammer to drive in a nail, Rykard pounded her face. His approaching orgasm made him bow forwards. He gripped the edges of the lounger and drove his cock balls deep inside her. The pace diminished, the force increased, until the wooden frame creaked. Her tongue moved feverishly. Then he came.

Miyo’s hands darted off her cunt again, her orgasm easily triggered by a few last movements and the cock tensing in her throat. Arms wrapped around Rykard’s waist, as Miyo’s spine arched and her heels dug into leather. She pressed her lips as tightly as she could against the base of his cock. His balls tightened, resting on her noble features. All of him was enveloped by that tight throat. Before him lay the visual feast of a spasming hourglass, soft in all the right places and silky smooth everywhere.

Drop for drop, he filled his first woman. The ecstasy washed through both of them. A Master pleased and a submissive that had pleased. Ever the pleasant dynamic.

Rykard pulled out with a bit more haste than Miyo perhaps enjoyed, but he knew better than to keep denying her the breath of life. Lungs filled with fresh air and the redhead began to cough. Even as she regained control over herself, she remembered to serve, milking the last few drops of cum out of his shaft with her hands. They fell on her face, barely adding to the mess it already was.

Another bath later (thankfully it was the warm and magically refilling variety), they lounged about in the foyer, on the couch that Rykard had intimidated his brother on not so long ago. They simply existed, both of them reading something. The entire day was ahead of them.