Jaika, brain fried by the force of her orgasm, slowly returns to her senses with Kara’s cum trailing down her thighs and the cat’s weight still on her. She turns her head up to consider this strange, beautiful woman that has just given her what she never knew she needed.
“I need to get back to the farm,” Kara says, frustrated that this wasn’t enough to earn a Level. “You understand I own you, yes?”
“Yes,” and to Jaika’s surprise she means it, like something’s leeched into her soul and tied it to Kara’s.
“Good. You know how to hunt?”
“Every goblin know how to hunt.”
“Then you’ll find me something to eat for when I get back. I’m going to work up an appetite with the shepherd.”
Jaika nods, no question in her mind that she will follow these instructions. It’s sealed even further when Kara kisses her lips and her heart almost leaps from her chest.
The farm’s returned to something resembling normalcy, which is perfect for Kara’s purposes. She stalks through the field, closing on the farmhouse — it’s a simple two-storey building of wattle and daub, sagging in the evening’s orange sun. The barn is sturdier, framed by thick cut logs and horizontal warmwood boards. Lily’s around, somewhere, but not out in the field.
Kara checks the loft of the barn — pegging Lily as a farmhand based on her sackish clothing, almost as threadbare as Kara’s own. The hay bales, aromatic in the night-time breeze, prove to be totally empty though, the barn uninhabited.
She creeps back out, does a circuit of the house, finds another small, ramshackle building — which, when she opens it up to outraged squawks, proves to be a chicken coop. There’s a rustling inside the house and the sound of footsteps — the farmer, she supposes, sprinting to prevent the fox from eating his chickens. Suppose the fox happens to be a wolf; suppose the wolf happens to maul him? It would certainly make finding Lily simpler — is it worth scaring her potential convert with a corpse, though? Lily is such an attractive prospect because she’s willing (setting aside the fact that she’s beautiful and closeby, of course, the girl clearly wants it).
The question is rendered moot when the farmhouse door creaks open and a middle-aged woman with long red hair rushes out. Kara steps out from behind the door ready to attack and, quickly rethinking things, grabs the woman from behind and uses her momentum to slam her into the farmhouse wall, harder than she intended. A feline hand appears a second later to wrap around the woman’s mouth before she can cry out.
Kara smiles apologetically, bringing a finger to her lips. “Shhh,” she says, “Quiet.”
The woman whimpers from behind the hand, eyes wide and frightened. She has a heavy fur blanket thrown casually over shoulders that Kara wouldn’t mind taking for herself, but one thing at a time.
“Kara,” she says, pointing to herself, “Ka-ra,” she points to the woman questioningly, removing her hand from the farmer’s mouth-
Who promptly screams something Kara takes to mean ‘help!’ and starts thrashing. Not good. Kara has her under control again in a moment, and after a few beats of silence convince the intruder that she remains undetected, she fixes the woman — who is quite pretty, with an oval shaped face and full lips skirted by pleasant laugh lines — with a firm look.
“Kara,” she says, pointing to herself. Instead of pointing at the farmer for emphasis this time, she wraps her hand tightly around her throat, nails digging in hard, allowing just enough air to breathe, certainly not enough to scream. Kara looks expectantly as she uncovers the womans mouth.
“Dalia,” the woman whispers, and Kara’s grip on her throat immediately softens, other hand resealing around the woman’s mouth.
Kara leans in close, inhales the hayloft, smoky scent that clings to the red hair, whispers: “Dalia,” close enough that her lips tickle the woman’s ear. “Dalia,” again, as she kisses down her jaw. Her right hand prevents the woman from screaming while her left traces down the full shape of her breasts, down her waist, beneath her night clothes. Dalia jolts against her as Kara’s hand finds the wetness between her legs.
“Dalia,” she whispers again, working firm circles, kissing and nipping at the soft skin of her throat.
“Kara,” the woman replies, muffled by the paw but still distinct, holding up her hand to let the sunset glint off her ring. “Kara,” she repeats, followed by something that must surely mean I can’t. It saps Kara’s respect for Sayla even more — how could a Goddess be usurped by a Church whose followers are so stupid? As if an intruder sneaking around her farm would be stopped by whatever promise she made to her stupid husband?
This is a distraction. Lily’s a disciple in the making, you can tell just looking at her. This woman? More a one and done thing. But then, married women must be worth extra XP. Maybe I’ll finally Level Up and be able to talk with sweet Lily.
“Dalia,” she coos in the older woman’s ear, expert, dexterous fingers coaxing her to shaking legs and quickened breaths. “You want to be all mine, Dalia?”
The woman — the farmer’s wife, surely — whimpers under the pressure. Kara hikes the nightclothes up and slips inside her: she can claim to not want it all she wants, but she’s so slick it betrays her true feelings. Bold and overconfident as ever, Kara slides her hand off the woman’s mouth and rests it on her chin, popping a thumb between her lips. She sucks it obediently, fear playing across her eyes.
Kara keeps up her fingers steady movement between Dalia’s legs, and after a few moments the woman is moaning around the thumb in her mouth, eyes taking on a blissed-out sheen. “Dalia,” whispers Kara, as the older woman tightens around her, crying out her pleasure so loudly that Kara is compelled to clamp a hand over her mouth again.
Bringing a married woman to climax is exactly what Sayla wanted to see, it seems, because Kara’s vision is obstructed by a frankly bloated list of Perks — that she’s balls deep in a tight, wet hole helps blunt the frustration of the revelation (if it’s all Perks, upping her Attributes is going to be a nightmare, and her mana is pitiful). Eager to return to her current business, she beelines right for Common Proficiency, saving a full examination for a more opportune time.
When Kara’s vision returns to normal, she finds that Dalia, during her distraction, has taken the initiative to roll over so she’s facing the wall and is moving herself up and down Kara’s length; the stimulation has her ready to cum — and Gods wouldn’t it be nice? — but Kara has other plans. She’s unable to stop her hands from shaking as she withdraws from the tight hole, and Dalia looks up at her in distress.
“I would not dishonour you with a bastard,” lies Kara, caressing the older woman’s soft cheek. “You are too beautiful. And besides, I have other business.”
Dalia stumbles a few steps backward and blinks. “You speak Common? What was- I mean, why did you…?”
Kara is mildly surprised to learn that others don’t know about perks, a system that seems utterly intuitive to her, but she’s nothing if not adaptable. “It was a curse; I could not speak until I experienced a moment of true happiness. I saw you and knew that you were the only thing in the world that could bring me such happiness. I apologise. Your beauty turned me into a brute.”
“I-” Dalia’s face is bright red. “I’m… pleased. To have helped you,” says Dalia, taking a step closer, clearly considering how she can help more.
“Would you run away with me?” asks Kara, figuring it would be stupid not to at least try.
“I- I can’t. I… have a husband, duties,” she falters, looking between Kara’s orange eyes. “Please, I want to help; anything else I can do.”
She’s gazing up, suggestive, and for an instant Kara wants nothing more than to spin her around and fuck her — but she’s already benefitted plenty from this encounter, her passion is better invested elsewhere (like on the pretty farmhand). She trails a hand up and down the older woman’s waist.
“You have a worker named Lily?”
Dalia frowns. “Yes, she-”
“Where is she?”
“Farmhands sleep in the cellar. She has a cot next to her father.”
Kara positions her claws on either side of Dalia’s head, trailing them through the pretty red hair in a gentle scalp massage that she hopes will distract the older woman from the flicker of jealousy she just saw in her eyes.
“I want you to go and wake her up for me, okay? Tell her that a visitor has come who will pay good coin to sleep in the hayloft, and that she’s to go make up a bed there. Could you do that?”
“We have plenty of other farmhands who could-”
It’s time to stop doing this on Dalia’s terms. She needs her help, but also her obedience. “Listen to me,” Kara says. “You’ll do as I’ve asked. The girl will make up my bed. You will wait half an hour, then come to the loft yourself.” She gropes the older woman’s breast greedily. “Wear something nice for me?”
Dalia, wonderstruck, nods and whispers, “as you wish.” Kara takes the soft brown fur cloak as she leaves.
Level 2
New Perk!
Common Proficiency — Your time in the Cradle has granted you understanding of its most widespread language.