Beckett’s voice, usually as flat and mechanical as a text-to-speech program, came out strained and hoarse from beneath the mountain of blankets.
His pale face was flushed, his eyes glassy with fever, but the robotic cadence remained, each word enunciated with the same clinical precision he used when explaining the vibrational frequencies of onyx crystals.
“The absence of the weekly Arch-Anal rituals has severely weakened my immune frequencies,” Beckett rasped, shifting inside his blanket burrito.
“The Collective’s protective resonance has been disrupted by this viral invasion.
Without the regular infusion of chakra-rich nectar, my body’s natural defense grid has faltered, leaving me vulnerable to opportunistic pathogens and negative energy parasites.
The flu virus is merely a physical manifestation of the deeper spiritual imbalance caused by the cessation of seminal exchange.
The monolith in Unit 11D remains uncharged, the crystal grid is misaligned, and my own bioelectric field is dangerously depleted.
I require the nectar to restore equilibrium.
The Arch-Anal Coalition of Seminal Indulgence cannot function if its facilitator is incapacitated.”
Kota stared at him, unblinking.
“You want me to fuck you so you can feel better.”
“That is a crude oversimplification.
I am requesting a targeted infusion of concentrated life force, delivered via the most efficient biological vector available.
Your seminal output, as we have documented extensively, contains an unusually potent concentration of pranic energy, amplified by your rare pre-Vanishing physiology and the hyperspermia condition.
A single dose could recalibrate my entire immune system.
Multiple doses would be even more effective.
Ideally, I would receive at least three infusions over the next twenty-four hours, spread evenly to maintain a steady state of healing vibrations.”
“No.”
Beckett’s eyes widened slightly, the closest thing to indignation he could manage in his weakened state.
“You would deny me the nectar?
After all I have done for the fellowship?
After I organized the rituals, maintained the crystals, and coordinated the logistical framework for the Arch-Anal Coalition?
This is not merely selfish, Kota.
This is cruel.
You are withholding essential healing energy from a member of your own spiritual community during a time of genuine need.
The karmic implications alone are staggering.
My condition will deteriorate without intervention.
The flu will deepen.
The fever will rise.
The chakras will continue to misalign until my entire aura collapses into disharmony.
And when the fellowship inevitably reconvenes, I will be too weak to facilitate the necessary rituals, and the entire collective will suffer as a result of your refusal to provide the nectar.”
Kota rolled his eyes so hard it gave him a headache.
“You’re not dying, Beckett.
You have the flu.
Drink some tea and go to sleep.”
“My current state is more severe than a simple viral infection.
The electromagnetic field around my body has been compromised.
I can feel my sacral chakra sputtering like a failing engine.
Without the nectar, the consequences could be catastrophic.
I could lose my connection to the spiritual entirely.
I could become trapped in this simulation without any means of escape.
The government agents who monitor our every move would see this weakness and exploit it.
The entire resistance movement could collapse because you refused to ejaculate into my mouth when I needed it most.”
Kota pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I’m not having sex with you while you’re sick, Beckett.
That’s disgusting.”
“The flu virus is a minor inconvenience compared to the spiritual decay I am currently experiencing.
And the nectar itself contains antibodies.
Your bodily fluids are remarkably resilient.
You could cure me faster than any conventional medicine.
It is scientifically sound.
The doctors themselves acknowledged the potency of your emissions.
Why do you resist?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“You are being irrational.
Your refusal is based on emotional discomfort rather than logical necessity.
If you truly cared about the fellowship, you would set aside your personal feelings and provide the healing infusion.
You would bend me over this monitor and deliver the nectar directly into my depleted system.
You would feel my chakras realign in real time as your life force floods my body with restorative energy.
It would be a transcendent experience for both of us.”
Kota sighed and looked around the cluttered basement room.
“Where are the damn inn tickets?
You said you ordered them.”
Beckett blinked, the rapid subject change momentarily confusing his fever-addled brain.
Then he slowly extracted one arm from his blanket cocoon and pointed a trembling finger toward his desk.
“The monitor.
I ordered the single room twin bed luxury love inn package for eight PM.
It includes a gift basket.
Chocolates.
Rose petals.
A bottle of non-alcoholic champagne.
The reservation confirmation is on the screen.”
Kota walked over to the desk and turned on the monitor.
The screen flickered to life, displaying a booking confirmation for a place called “Luxury Love Inn” with a check-in time of 8 PM and a room type that read “Single Room – Twin Bed – Valentine’s Special.” The gift basket was listed in the amenities section, complete with a little heart icon.
Kota pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the confirmation.
“Thanks, Beckett.
You’re a lifesaver.” New chapters come out on g.com first.
“I require the nectar,” Beckett repeated, his voice growing more urgent.
“Without it, I may not survive the night.”
“Uh huh.
Feel better soon.” Kota turned and headed for the stairs.
“The…
necterrrr…” Beckett’s voice faded into a pitiful rasp as Kota climbed the stairs and closed the basement door behind him.
The main floor of the mansion had been transformed.
Kota stepped into the living room and stopped dead, genuinely surprised by the sight.
The entire space was draped in Valentine’s decorations.
Pink and red streamers hung from the chandeliers.
Heart-shaped garlands were strung along the banisters.
A massive banner over the fireplace read “Happy Valentine’s Day” in glittering gold script.
Rose petals had been scattered across the marble floor, creating a winding path from the front door to the center of the room.
Candles flickered on every available surface, their soft glow mixing with the afternoon light streaming through the windows.
Camilo stood in the middle of the room, directing a team of flustered cleaners with a clipboard in one hand and a roll of ribbon in the other.
His pink robe had been replaced by a slightly more practical outfit, though it still hugged his dramatic curves in ways that left little to the imagination.
His hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and he was muttering instructions in rapid-fire Spanish while pointing at various decorations.
Kota walked over, stepping carefully around a pile of heart-shaped confetti.
“Camilo.
Is Sebastian here yet?”
Camilo turned, his expression shifting from focused to surprised.
“Oh!
Kota.
Yes, he’s already here.
I put him in one of the luxury guest rooms upstairs.
He’s been there for about an hour.
I told him to wait until I gave the signal.
None of them are allowed to come downstairs yet.
The surprise isn’t ready.” He gestured around the room with his clipboard.
“As you can see, we’re still in the final stages of preparation.”
Kota grinned.
“You’re doing an amazing job, Camilo.
This looks incredible.” He stepped forward and pulled the housekeeper into a warm hug before Camilo could protest.
Camilo let out a startled squick, his face immediately flushing bright red.
He stood frozen for a moment, his arms pinned at his sides, before pulling back with an exaggerated pout that didn’t quite hide the pleased sparkle in his eyes.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he huffed, crossing his arms and looking away.
“I’m just doing my job.
It’s nothing special.”