Karina was silent, she wiped her face swollen from tears and red from stuffiness. As soon as she did so, Lis put the cape over her again, pulling it tightly over her head. Karina again found herself in darkness and practically without air.
“You can go to bed and lie down. Think about my words if you love me.”
“I love you.”
“Do you want to be only mine?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want your beauty to be just for me?”
“Yes…”
“Good. You will sleep like this tonight. I won't let you take it off until you get used to it.”
Nikto came to them:
“Come to my living room, I invite you to dinner.”
“Okay,” said Lis.
Nikto looked at covered Karina.
“Karina will go like this?”
“Yes. She is getting used to the cape. Karina, I give you permission to answer Nik.”
“I want to be an exemplary wife and show respect for my husband and… master. Not to flaunt myself in front of everyone, but be only for him.”
“Let's decorate her,” Nikto said, “we can make beautiful tattoos. At the bottom of the abdomen there can be flowers down to the pubis, and we will write, as if on a tape, that she belongs to you. We will decorate her ass with patterns, make a beautiful drawing on the tailbone. Marg will draw a crown with precious stones on her tailbone, like a real one, and you can write your name again, that her ass is also yours. Under the breasts we will make a beautiful pattern, like thin lace, and intertwined threads with beads around the nipples and on the breast, have you seen this on my slaves? And where you carved your sign, you can draw colorful birds on the sides. Marg knows how to decorate girls very beautifully. Do you want to write something on her face? It will be cool to tattoo the whole lower part of her face. And let there be a large inscription with your name on her lips, it will be the very cool! After all, you still intend to cover her face with a mask or cape. I understand correctly? She will always be closed, completely, right? Then let's decorate her face. And you can also decorate the neck, chest, tailbone, navel with rhinestones. Marg knows how to implant precious stones into the body. Let’s insert them into her nose, cheeks, around the lips. It will be very beautiful! Let's hang up the chains. You put a chastity belt on her, you can do better while we're here. We can pierce her outer labia, insert rings on both sides, and then, through these rings, you will stretch a chain. You know, it's like… like lacing. You will lace everything between her legs, tightly, as it should, and hang the lock. Only you will be able to open her and unlace her hole. The ass can also be closed like this, I did this to Arel, inserted two rings along the edges of the hole, they can be connected with a padlock. Connected and closed. It's more comfortable than a chastity belt.
Lis froze, he turned pale:
“D… do what you want… N… Nik, just don't touch her face yet, please.”
“Why? Do you still want to open her? Show?”
“No, no…”
“Then all the more let's decorate her face!”
“Please, Nik, no, she already has a pierced nose and lip.”
“But these are very small stones, they are almost invisible.”
“They are noticeable.”
Nikto shrugged his shoulders:
“Okay, whatever you say. I don’t insist, I just suggested.”
And Lis’ face showed a clear relief:
“Maybe later she will wear the traditional jewelry of married red women.”
“Do you want to marry her again when we take over Ore town and you become king? Now according to the Rite of the reds?”
“Yes.”
Karina knew this tradition and saw a crescent-shaped jewelry on red women. Made of gold, richly decorated with patterns and precious stones, often with fringed chains and beads at the edges, it was threaded through the nasal septum with a bow and hung under the nose with a wide sickle-shaped plate, obscuring the lips and lower part of the face. There was a clasp on the back wall of the jewelry, if desired, it could be passed through specially made punctures in the lower and upper lips, fastening them together like a pin, preventing the submissive woman from opening her mouth.
Skillfully crafted by jewelers, the jewelry, of course, were very beautiful, but still reminded Karina of a slave muzzle.
Through the dense fabric of the cape, she couldn’t see the expression on Lis’ face, she just silently listened to their conversation, thinking that her life was over, with absolute indifference. Let them do whatever they want with her body, she belongs to her husband, she is in the hands of her beloved, and nothing else is needed.
Slowly, stumbling and tangled in the long hem, she followed Lis. In the living room she silently sat down at her place at the table. She didn’t see the expressions on their faces, only vague spots, didn’t really see what was on the table in front of her. Her father was here, but he said nothing. They didn’t address her and didn’t say anything to Lis, he talked to everyone as usual, apparently believing that his wife should look like that. And at the moment Karina resigned herself.
“How are you feeling? How are you?” Nikto asked.
“Everything is all right,” answered Lis, “is your holiday coming soon?”
“And it already took place,” Nikto answered him as if nothing had happened and looked around them with a mischievous look of his bright eyes. He looked like he was laughing at them in his soul, making fun of their confusion, and the expressions on the faces of Lis and Kors genuinely amused him.
“What?!” Lis literally choked on wine.
“The holiday has already been,” Nikto repeated, continuing to have fun, “a lot of guests came from distant worlds too. I myself didn’t expect it,” he slightly shook his light tousled head and, as usual, made an involuntary movement, touching the rings in his nose. “Do you remember, Lis, I told you and Karina about my friend, whose ancestors came from the world of insect-like creatures, and she had four arms.”
“About the spider?” Specified Lis.
“Yes.”
“This can’t be forgotten.”
“Well. There were too many beings, and from such worlds too. I decided that you cannot go back to your normal life if you remember them. It's still not for people. And I erased your memory.”
Lis, Vitor Kors and Karina froze.
“And… and how much time has passed?” Lis finally managed to squeeze out of himself.
“Lis, don’t worry about the Fort, we will return to the same point in time from which we left. I promised, in your world, not a day will pass.”
“Then… then, if your holiday is over and your insect-like friends have done whatever they wanted with us, maybe we can come back?”
“Here it begins,” Nikto drawled, “Lis, stop shivering about someone needing your ass like that.”
“Please, let's go back.”
“We'll be back in the coming days, don't start. I also need to do a Mission in this fucking Fort, so of course we'll be back, don't whine.”
“Where is Arel?” Kors asked cautiously.
“I left him in the room, don't worry, Kors, your Arel hasn't gone anywhere. The unclean spiders didn’t drag him into their world. And they didn't drag anyone away, you're all right! The conversation is over! Drink!”
When they returned to their room, fairly drunk Lis fucked her for a long time. But he didn’t change his original decision and didn’t take off the cape from her, only lifted it up, and she couldn’t touch him with her hands, only through the fabric, and couldn’t really see whether he was happy or not. But judging by how long and with pleasure he fucked her, he was pleased. And in the morning, barely waking up, he continued. She didn't ask for anything. Resigned, she just got up and lay down as he wanted, allowing him to do whatever he wanted with her body.
Habir Verniy entered Kors’ room without any ceremony:
“Get ready, master ordered to bring you,” he growled deep-chested.
Verniy seemed to sense how Kors treated him, how he didn’t like the unclean dog, feeling disgust and fear. Kors knew that dogs feel when someone is afraid of them, and usually, sensing fear, they attack, but he couldn’t help himself, so this vile, predatory unclean irritated him. And the fact that Nikto loved him with some kind of unjustifiably tender love and constantly dragged him everywhere with him, even more infuriated him. Kors was ready, he pulled himself together and put his appearance in order. His hair was neatly styled and pinned in a ponytail, his clothes smelled of expensive perfume, and precious rings glittered on his neatly nailed fingers. Kors came to his senses after all the failures, or so it seemed. And the dye on his face was almost completely faded, which is why Kors couldn’t even without shrinking internally look at his reflection in the mirror. Yes, he tried not to think about anything and drank a lot of wine to stay in a relaxed oblivion, but it was almost the same Kors – spoiled, broken, but not surrendered. He, obeying the order, followed Verniy into Nikto’s room, and when he entered, he noted with surprise how big it was and one might even say luxurious, but at the same time the Demon had neither windows nor a balcony, like in Karina’s room. Twilight always reigned in his personal World, but it seems that Nikto was not oppressed by it. He was used to living in a witch's cave like in a burrow, Kors thought, staring at the polished stone walls and black slabs of the floor. The ceiling was propped up by carved columns, resting against the vault with openwork arches. Kors saw that Arel was kneeling on the steps by the high bed, undressed, in slave attributes, he didn’t raise his lowered head, and still Kors noticed that something was wrong with his face.
“Hello, Vitor,” said Nikto and his voice was calm and cheerful.
“Glad to see you, my Demon,” Kors replied, kneeling down.
“Hey, get up, come on without ceremony,” Nikto smiled, “I love you as a noble master who made me first a slave, and then his lover and his thing.”
Kors only smiled bitterly, he no longer believed Nikto. And yet, when he knelt on these black floor slabs, he was almost on a level with Arel and involuntarily noticed that his lower lip was strangely pushed forward.
“Make yourself comfortable, Vitor, make yourself at home, sit down at the table, pour yourself some wine, if you want – smoke,” said Nikto, getting off the bed and going up to him. It was unusual for Kors to see him so, not crippled, not lame, but because of his thinness, even somehow graceful, like a weasel. And still, despite the fact that Nikto was in good spirits, Kors involuntarily shook as Nikto approached him.
“Vitor, what’s the matter? Why are you so afraid of me?” Nikto asked, even somehow a little surprised.
“What about Arel?” Kors tried to avoid answering.
“Eh?” Nikto turned to the prince, “Arel, raise your face!” he ordered, and Arel immediately followed the order.
Kors saw that something big and thick had been threaded into his lower lip – a bottle cork!
“What is it?!”
Nikto laughed:
“I made a small cut and stuffed a cork into it. It suits him, right?”
“But why?” Kors was shocked, and Arel with a protruding lower lip didn’t look good at all.
“The unclean do this, they insert a cork into the lips of inveterate drunkards as punishment. It's funny, and it's immediately clear who is in front of you.”
“But you yourself allow him to drink, give him wine!”
“Well, what remains for me if he cannot live without it? I did it to him just like that, for nothing.”
Kors looked at Arel. With a ring in his nose, a hole in his cheek and now with a disfigured mouth, he looked really bad. Arel's eyes were not overshadowed, but he didn’t raise them and did not look at Kors.
“You know, Vitor, why I called you?”
“No,” and now Kors was really scared.
“I'll decorate you now,” said Nikto, and Kors shrank inwardly.
“Your dye is almost erased, I'll paint you again, better. Get out your jewelry,” Nikto took out a box with jars in which there was paint, “I will make it more beautiful, with shadows. You will see how good it will be for you.”
“Who cares, nothing’s going well with the dye,” said Kors grimly. “This is a shameful make-up, no matter how beautiful it is.”
He didn’t dare to disobey and twisted three thorns from under his lower lip.
“Don't move, you will get used to yourself like that.”
“I won't get used to it.”
“So what? When we return, will you go to Zagpeace, will you ask to cancel the punishment? Will you repent, crawling on your knees at his feet? Will you disown me? Will you disown the shameful connection with a filthy half-blood?”
“No. How could you think that?!”
“I caught your thoughts.”
“It was just a momentary weakness, I cannot control my every impulse. But I won't do that.”
“But you suffer no worse than your slave Adrian, he is also sad that he has become a slave, and every minute he reproaches himself for his cowardice”
“Don't compare me and a slave!”
“Yes, you're right, Adrian doesn’t hope for forgiveness, but you do.”
“I don’t hope for anything either, Demon who hides his true name and only pretends to be a pathetic half-blood.”
Nikto chuckled:
“You tried to read Zagpeace’s thoughts, what he thinks, but you failed.”
“It didn't work,” agreed Kors, “probably because he is not connected with you. And I can only “hear” those who belong to you.”
Nikto just smiled slightly and dipped the brush in gray dye. Not a single thought in his head contained even a hint of his conversation with Peace, and Kors didn’t “hear” or know anything. He couldn’t even imagine that Nikto and Peace had agreed on something.
Nikto painted Kors’ face with all the diligence, as he could, beautifully shading the cheekbones and making the facial features more expressive. Kors looked at himself in the mirror.
Nikto really emphasized his beauty, made him “mysterious”, but Kors was not at all happy about it, because he hoped so much that when the dye disappeared from his face, he would not have to apply it anymore. He hoped that Peace and his former comrades-in-arms would not find fault with him, and that his rash offense would be forgotten.
“I'll replace your jewelry,” Nikto said, appraisingly examining his work.
Kors was depressed and silent.
Nikto inserted a complex decoration into his punctures. The silver peaks in it were much longer and more massive than the previous ones. The central one bifurcated at the base, and its upper part was like a sharp spike, and the lower arc descended downward and, like a hook, clasped his chin.
Now, when Kors lowered his gaze, he could easily see them, and the hook, digging into his chin, prevented him.
“Gods,” he whispered, “for what?”
Nikto heard him:
“I'm not punishing you, it's beautiful.”
“They bother me.”
“Well, not as much as Arel’s cork, you will get used to it.”
“Now I have to wear a mask in the Fort.”
“Go to Arel!”
Kors looked at his tormentor in confusion.
“Come on, go! Sit next to him!”
And when Kors hastily got up from his chair, walked over to Arel and knelt beside him, Nikto said:
“Kiss!”
But neither Kors nor Arel could do this because of their “jewelry”. Kors only rested his spikes on Arel's lip, and Arel couldn’t move his mouth at all. Kors saw now how the round top of the cork rested on his lower teeth and Arel couldn’t properly close his mouth and from this the upper lip is deformed too.
Realizing that they couldn’t kiss each other, Nikto smiled smugly, and Kors, looking at him, saw with what a mischievous and triumphant shine his eyes burned, like transparent glass.
“Take off your clothes and go to the bed,” Nikto ordered him.