The World Wants Your Oyster – 4 [❤️❤️]

You burst out of the water and shake the water from your short red hair. You smile and stretch, shivering at the sensation of your swimsuit clinging close to your body. You are May, the sixth demon to make it to the secret cavern.

The cavern itself is larger than the ship you were born in, glowing crystals poking from the walls every few feet. The river of Haven didn’t just run above ground, but in a confusing maze of underwater caves, complete with strange environments and odd creatures.

Of course, Sunday is already there, ramrod straight and as strict as ever. His butler tuxedo is spotless.

September is leaning against the wall casually, her sports bra and tight leggings leaving her slick black abs exposed. The minotauress nods in your direction, the glint of her numerous piercings having been what drew you to the darkness.

Close behind her is the harpy, Wednesday. The only reason you saw her despite her pale skin was because September glanced at her. You’re not sure you would have seen her otherwise. Though when it comes to Wednesday, maybe she wanted you to see her. She doesn’t acknowledge your presence, eyes on the ball of magic she shapes in between her wings.

Surprisingly, Fools is early. You can never get a handle on the wild-haired equint. He is bouncing a ball against the wall, carefully lobbing it between the pair in the brighter part of the cave.

The girly incubus April is posing for February, who apparently bought some paints to the cavern to decorate the walls. February waves in your direction and holds  his brush up to measure April’s proportions. April winks at you, keeping his face stoic for February.

As more of the first generation pull themselves from the river, you reminisce on how you all first found the cavern. After Quinn ‘welcomed’ the new batch of immigrants, she quickly set up some lessons for the first generation, the ship-born. She made sure to teach you all how to hide your demonic features, how mortals act, basic magic, how to avoid having your weaknesses used against you, and how to use DESIRE to shape the tokens you use as currency.

The most important lessons were about caring for mortals. You can see why; they’re so fragile! They need air, water, food, shelter, sleep, clothes…Some of your siblings wondered why bother with any of that when you could all just feed off each other’s DESIRE. Quinn laughed and explained diminishing returns and how happy, well-cared mortals provide oodles more DESIRE. Monday asked why not just capture mortals and milk them for everything, like Quinn is doing for Unlucky.

Quinn flicked her on the horns with a smile. What she said next resonated with all those there. ‘Cooperation ensures prosperity.’ By making a fair system for mortals to participate in, she attracts more citizens to live in Haven and passively feed the demons with high quality DESIRE. If she had been aggressive, she admits she would have been destroyed. Her claim chilled you all to your cores. When asked what she meant by that, she gave a mysterious smile and replied ‘No secret lasts forever.’

After that conversation all of you were far more willing to learn how to better protect the mortals in your care. The mortal survival class was fun in a lot of ways. How to navigate in the wild, how to cook actual food, CPR, and lifeguard practice. The last one was your favorite.

Quinn got you all to swim in a pool, then in the rushing Primus River that ran through all of Haven. The Primus River has many secret underwater passageways that lead into slides and massive caverns than run for miles underneath Haven. You’re not sure who found the cavern first, there were a few paths that led to it. But one demon told another, who told another, until all the ship-born learnt of it. It became a secret hideout of sorts, away from the prying eyes of mortals, imps, and the younger generations of demons.

It was almost as cool as when you won first place on the final swimming exam and got Quinn to fuck you in front of all the others.

You were all in the cavern because you agreed to meet every week there. This was the first week. The last to arrive was Thanksgiving, pulling herself from the river as she wrung the water from her hair. The ditzy minotaur probably got lost on the way. You couldn’t hold it against her, she’s the nicest of your siblings.

You settle down beside Valentine, who is carefully preening loose foliage from her wings. You lean close and give her a peck on the cheek.

“Hey, been busy?”

“Hey yourself.” She beams. “Farrae and Madeleine needed me to do their shopping for them. They’re, like, terrified that the visiting mortals could be from the Empire.” She shudders as you trail your finger up her spine.

Your youngest sister smirks and gives you the look. The one where she’s just begging you to spoil her and slip a hand down her denim short-shorts. As a harpy, masturbation is nearly impossible with her wings, least of all with clothes still on.

“Omigosh, I’m really pent up right now.” Val leans closer to you. “Farrae and Madeleine have been talking about something weird when they think I’m out of earshot, and I haven’t had sex for, like, hours.”

“Oh, poor little baby.” Your hand snakes down her abdomen and unbuttons her shorts as you kiss the nape of her neck. “You need some attention.”

Your little session is interrupted by a pair of colorful wings slapping you both in the back of the head. January is behind you, glaring.

“Will you two sluts shut up and listen?” She grunts. “Sunday is starting.”

Sunday has taken his place at the center of the cavern. With a snap of his fingers, dark flames light up the torches he’d set up earlier, bathing you all in a soft light. He looks at each of you in the eyes, his sharp, angular features the picture of strict perfectionism.

“Brothers. Sisters. It is not just the first evening we meet, but the first since Quinn opened Haven to the mortal realm. In this brief amount of time, we’ve had the chance to learn much from both the pirates of Nancy’s Tavern and the criminals of Hacksonville. I was hoping we could discuss what we’ve each learned and what we’re confused about, so that we may present it to Lady Quinn.”

Leave it to Sunday to turn a fun get-together into some stuffy meeting. He is right, though. Quinn did emphasize sharing knowledge so you can all get better at magic together.

“I’ll start. New Year, January, and I have been working on a type of surveillance magic to better keep track of the mortals. So far, we have some brief image connections, but nothing concrete.”

January turns her head and scoffs, her twin drilltails bobbing about. “There’s something there! We just need to work on stabilizing the shadow magic.”

“Very true.” New Year nods and pushes her glasses up. Her lab coat does nothing to hide the massive N-cups on her four-foot body. “Though the rose-tinted censor glasses work like a charm. We could have done without November testing the limits.”

There’s some scattered laughter. Earlier that evening, November showed off what she’d done with all the gold the mortals were all too willing to trade tokens for. Her entire outfit was ostentatious; A gold headdress, plated bra, and a skirt with ringlets of silver and gold. Gold rings on every finger, gold bracelets, gold earrings… complete with gold piercings in her nipples, and on her outie belly button she so proudly displayed her pregnancy with. She gave birth to an imp in the middle of the market, loudly moaning her own praises. The mortals who didn’t wear the censor glasses could not stop watching as the waves of her DESIRE washed over them, their attention driving her into intense climax.

“The mortals showered me in gold.” November huffs, flicking her dreadlocks about. Snakes—her imps— coil around her golden hoops holding the nearly transparent silks in place. “It is only natural for them to witness a queen such as I prove my fertility.”

“Anyways…” January rolls her eyes. “I was the one who developed the recording spell.”

“Yes, quite handy.” November waves her hand dismissively. “But limited in use. I understand the spell records it into your memory, and requires a different spell to play it back?”

“There are kinks.” January grinds her teeth. “I dare you to do better.”

“Of course.” November pulls a scroll from the mouth of one of her snakes.

Her kohl-lined eyes gleam haughtily as she reads a detailed explanation of demonology. Most of you are surprised by the depths of information she’s gathered. The importance of names to call and bind demons to do a mortal’s bidding, how to keep control during partial possession, recognizing corruption, banishment, and how to permanently kill a demon.

Most of what she’s saying makes sense, but you and the others notice some discrepancies. Silver doesn’t burn you, and your names haven’t been used against you yet. November sees your faces and rolls up the document.

“This was from the demonologist. We could assume differences between the Niflheim demons and us…I believe, however, we should err on the side of caution.” She clears her throat. “I have also found that it is possible to mass-produce imps.”

“We noticed!” Fools jeers.

November blushes slightly as her imp-snakes wriggle about on her body. You look closely and giggle to yourself as you see one of her imps slide between her thighs. Your equint sister quickly reasserts her domineering attitude and sits back down regally.

“You up to getting imps of your own?” You whisper in Val’s ear.

“They could probably help with chores around the house…but I don’t think Farrae would be comfortable with a male in the house.”

“Awww.” You pull Val close to your chest and ruffle up her pink hair. “You’re so sweet!”

Next up is December, who warns those present about the Forbidden Forest. There are more wild magical plants, and apparently hellhounds have appeared. He mentions that Quinn was definitely the one to bring new plants, but he isn’t sure where the hellhound pack came from. All of you look to each other for a hint, but nobody seems able or willing to explain.

“Think it was her royal sluttiness, November?” Valentine whispers.

“Nah, she’d be bragging about it.” You bob your head in Halloween’s direction. She’s filing her nails into sharp claws, and she gives you a vicious grin when she notices you staring at her. “I bet shorty over there ‘explored the wild side.’”

“Maybe one of our brothers got em-pregged.”

You guffaw at the thought, the image of February getting rutted by the old wolf making your sex glisten with arousal. It seemed whoever made the hellhounds was too ashamed to take credit for fucking an old wolf.

Halloween stands up, pulling Labor to his feet. The small pair are polar opposites next to each other, the succubus’ glowing orange eyes and skimpy slingshot bikini a stark contrast to the little incubus in an oversized hoodie.

“Labor’s been working on something fuckin’ awesome.”

Halloween spreads her legs in a squat and moves her bikini out of the way, exposing her pussy for all to see. There’s a bulge on her lower abdomen that slowly moves down as she pushes, rivulets of arousal running down her legs. A big, black dildo emerges, every stud passing through her sex causing Halloween to shiver pleasurably.  It reaches the ground and its weight pulls the rest of the massive plastic dick out of Halloween’s stretched cunny with a pop and a gush of her juices.

“Aww, fuck, that’s awesome.”

Halloween bends down to pick it up with one hand, her other already rubbing her glistening pussy to bring herself to orgasm again. She unscrews one end with her mouth and dumps out its contents. Your eyes widen as crate after crate falls out of the dildo, occupying a space that could not fit them. Halloween proudly displays a pile of crates full of produce, each box taller than her.

“Labor figured out how to make something have more space on the inside. Pretty nifty.” Halloween wobbles the twenty-four-inch dildo around casually.  “I tried to stuff my imps inside, but they came out with raging headaches, so maybe don’t put living things in there.”

“Impressive.”

“Woah.”

“Now put it back!”

Labor hides his face from the praise, nodding his thanks and quickly sits back down. Halloween aims the dildo-purse at the boxes and they zoom back inside. She sits next to Labor and uses her arms and legs to slowly and methodically push the oversized dildo back up her stretched vagina.

After them are the twins, June and July. They play a recording—Which January loudly claims credit for again—Of one performing surgery on the other. The sight causes most of you to flinch away, though the pair were quick to tell you they used hemlock as an anesthetic. Deadly for mortals, painless for demons.

It is the most informative and disgusting thing you’d ever seen. June (or July?) cut open their twin and begun pointing out various organs that demons shared with mortals, pulling a textbook into frame to compare. There were a few differences; demon bones and blood are black, and the organs were arranged symmetrically, pairs of organs existing where mortals would normally only have one. Otherwise, a demon’s body is identical to its mortal counterpart. The surgery continued as the surgeon explored their twin’s body in a very unsexy way, noting how their internal organs were more resistant to damage than their skin and muscle. When the patient cast magic, demonic energies coursed through their body in shadowy arcs of energy.

“We’re guessing that our stronger internal organs allow us to better use magic, since demonic magic would wreak havoc on a mortal’s insides.” July says.

“It helps that our bodies are mostly magic anyways, the organs in place being either vestigial or for low-DESIRE environment subsistence.” June adds.

“Which explains how demons can survive intercourse that would kill a mortal. As evidenced by Halloween’s choice in…excessive sizes. No doubt Saw’s lust resulted in several fatalities before Quinn took him.” July continues his sister’s train of thought seamlessly.

“Lord Quinn almost died from pleasure herself.” You rub Val’s thigh. “You weren’t born yet, but when Saw cocksocked her? I came so hard I almost thought I’d start preferring dicks.”

“Omigosh, you did not.” Your little sister pushes you back with a giggle. “You’re a total lesbo!”

Sunday snaps his fingers, his magic spreading throughout the cave to demand your attention. All the demons sit straighter as his presence pushes down on your souls. You’d be wowed by his magical control if his anger wasn’t focused on you.

“May. Valentine.” He frowns. “You two have been whispering quite a bit. You must have something to share.”

Val’s tail slaps against your back irritably, but you just pat her on the shoulder. You’ve got this. You stand up, snapping the elastics on your onesie swimsuit like a pair of suspenders.

“Yeah, actually. Also, great job with the magic, bro. You’ve gotten a lot better.” You give him a wink and some finger-guns. His expression is stony and unchanging. Whatever.

You hold out your palm and focus. Shadow magic is just one of the many innate magic demons can learn, and its also the most convenient. At its most basic, you can fire of blobs of dark energy, make a shadow fire that can burn anything, or even hide in the darkness. Best of all are shadow constructs, which you can shape into anything given enough practice and imagination. In fact, most of your siblings wore shadow construct clothes, making for easy sexy times.

In your palm, a series of tunnels begins to take shape and grow until you’ve got a hemisphere with a bunch of holes in it. The map grows larger and larger until the details are visible to all those watching. It’s a map of the underground tunnels and caverns.

“I’m not saying I found all the caves…but I’m pretty sure I found most of them.”

Sunday rubs his chin and points to the largest cavity, right below the center of the hemisphere. He raises an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Yeah, that’s storage.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Lord Quinn left a big sign labelled ‘secret storage (don’t tell the mortals)’ with a winky face.”

Your brothers and sisters nod. It sounds like something Quinn would do. You slowly trace the different paths for them, recounting your experiences in the caves. Slimes, dickshrooms, and even a break room for imps. You make sure to mention that there may be more hidden grottos as Haven grows.

Sunday is satisfied. He turns his attention to Valentine. She throws you a worried glance. You send her a telepathic message.

<Just tell them about living with your two harpy mortals.>

Valentine shifts nervously, her claws digging grooves in the rock. You give her an encouraging nod.

“I’ve been living with Farrae and Madeleine, the harpies that were chained next to me on the airship. And, like, they’re awesome. We eat each other out, we take turns with the strap-on, and like, I’m ninety percent sure we’ve figured out triple scissoring.”

The last claim turns some heads. Valentine is famously flexible, but none of you are sure how triple scissoring would work.

“But, like, they started being really possessive. They don’t like it when I have sex with others, even though they can’t keep up with me. Like, I get it, their DESIRE is the tastiest and the most filling, but a girl has needs, y’know? And now they’re, like, talking about this thing called marriage? What in Quinn’s name is that?”

Marriage. You’re not sure what it is. It’s mortal stuff, so maybe food?

A hubbub grows in the cavern as you discuss among yourselves.

Monday and Sunday are staring at each other, talking telepathically. Friday props up her cowboy hat and scratches her head. Tuesday looks lost, Thursday is scratching his beard, and Saturday is hiding his face under his headband. Wednesday is showing the most emotion since her orgasm face on the airship, confusion. The Weekdays, the oldest and most knowledgeable of you, are clueless. Nobody knows what it is.

A presence shifts behind you. Before you can react, Quinn leaps from the shadows and tackles Valentine in a big hug, swinging her around in circles. She’s in a casual tee that leaves little to the imagination and yoga pants that cling so tightly to her you can spot her cameltoe.

“Hey kiddos!” Quinn waves to the dumbfounded crowd. “Sorry to crash your party, I just had to jump in.”

“Wait a sec, how in tarnation did ya find us?” Friday shouts out.

“A couple little birdies told me.” Quinn shrugs. “Which didn’t really make a difference, ‘cause I told Sunday to organize this thing.”

Birdies? Does she mean her imps, or did somebody here snitch? You shake away your thoughts for a more important question: why have you guys do a secret meeting without her?

A poof of shadows and she teleports next to Friday, twirling her around and sweeping her off her feet into Quinn’s embrace. Friday blushes bright red as Quinn leans in close to her and peppers her neck with kisses. Her tail whips around and slides up and down her thigh, brushing across the cowgirl’s panties.

“And I’m so proud of all you!” She wipes away a tear and sets Friday down gently, the succubus steaming with lust and embarrassment. “I thought you’d get lost in an orgy rather than seriously talk things out for your first meeting. But here you are, being responsible!”

She teleports back to Valentine and clasps the succubus’ hands in hers.

“And you, already talking about marriage! It feels like less than a year since I first taught you how to pleasure a woman.”

It has been less than a year. Even with the time dilation in Haven, nobody there is older than six months. Once Quinn calms down, she explains how mortals typically reproduce. Apparently, marriage is an exclusivity contract and a tax loophole. Very boring stuff, but mortals take it very seriously. Especially in sex-shy countries like Prillia or the Harpy Empire. There’s a whole ceremony, with trading rings and everything.

“But I’m a girl…Where do I put the ring?” Valentine asks.

“Not cock rings, silly.” Quinn’s laughter is like the tinkling of wind chimes. “Finger rings. Like November is wearing. Except even more expensive, since mortals like putting precious jewels on them to show off their wealth.”

November leans in. This is the first you’re hearing about jewels being expensive. Aren’t there caves full of crystals?

“But you brought up some very important points. I should make marriage and divorce easy. Sort of like Vegas.” Quinn claps her hands together. “Issues for tomorrow! For now, I want you to think about how your girlfriends make you feel. You said their DESIRE is more bountiful and tastier than others? I did notice love makes DESIRE more potent…I’ll see if I can have a chat with them.”

Quinn nods to herself and teleports in the center of the room.

“Okay, before I begin the awards ceremony I’ve been hinting at. I think those who haven’t had a chance to speak yet to air your opinions and grievances about life in Haven so far. And before anyone says it, I’m sorry I haven’t been sitting on the foghole as much, I’ve been busy.”

Demon after demon stood up, talking about anything and everything. Tuesday mentioned how he wanted to practice opera, Friday complained how the arcade had more games for incubi than succubi, and quite a few demons mentioned the fun and strange things about living with mortals. November showed off the piercings she’d made, including a pair of earrings modeled after Quinn’s futa dick.

Nobody was lacking in DESIRE or entertainment, but you were glad to see you weren’t the only one who was antsy about staying in Haven. Quinn comforted the crowd with some important facts about living outside. Namely, how few of you have learned to completely disguise your demonic natures. She did hint that many of you could start working at Nancy’s Tavern and it all depends if you could all prove to be ‘not obscenely evil’.

Things took a strange turn when August brought up some of the behavior of the turned mortals and Unlucky. He’d felt like Unlucky was getting ‘brainfucked’, and the turned mortals were very simple-minded. As in, they had little on their mind outside of fucking.

You agree. Trying to have a conversation with Blowie always ended up with her face in your crotch. Which was fine, but she was kind of boring. You’ve had more meaningful interactions with Tropo, and he’s an imp!

Quinn hums and claps her hands. An obscene creature with basketball-sized tits and a cock like a baseball bat appears in a puff of black smoke. You’d heard of Unlucky, but you were never interested enough to see the milking cow in person. You think Thanksgiving’s milk is much sweeter anyways.

The imprisoned herm is openly drooling, her eyes distant and unfocused. She’s sitting with her legs spread apart, knuckle-deep inside her love hole as her cock twitches between her huge tits. The woman is so lost in pleasure, she has no idea where she is. Quinn gets behind her and places her hands on Unlucky’s head, closing her eyes in concentration.

Slowly, an illusory image appears in front of her. It’s like a ball of multicolored light, rippling with movement. You and your siblings watch with rapt attention as the swirling orb becomes clearer. It looks like a network of dark roots fissure the outer layers of the sphere.

“This is a soul. I can read Unlucky’s emotional state, even influence her. Hmmm…” Quinn rubs her chin. “Looks like only having sex with demons has influenced her soul. Almost like a proto-demon’s.”

“Does that mean that we’re turning our mortal lovers into demons?” Valentine has a hint of fear in her voice.

“Doubtful.” Quinn shakes her head. “There’s very minor demonification going on, but it gets washed away in the normal day to day. Unlucky here was unlucky enough to be stuck on a pleasure loop between getting fucked by demons. Maybe nearly two hundred imps is too much for a mortal mind to deal with…she’s barely had forty.”

As Quinn talks, Unlucky licks the cock between her breasts. Quinn claps her hands again and summons one of the turned mortals, Thrustbust. The dwarven incubus hones in on Unlucky and scampers in front of her to plunge his cock into her pussy almost immediately. Unlucky moans loudly, spittle running down her chin. Quinn pays her no mind and brings up the vision of Thrustbust’s soul.

His soul is pitch black with demonic energies, having replaced his soul in nearly its entirety. Only the smallest flecks of color appeared every now and then. Quinn frowns and beckons you closer.

Your heart swells. Lady Quinn wants to see your soul. Your tail whips around nervously and you approach. You bow and you feel the warmth of her smile on your skin. You feel a bit scared. What if she finds you lacking? What if she doesn’t like who you are?

<Stop worrying, May. You’ll be okay.>

She places her hand on your head, fingers tracing your horns gently. You watch as the orb takes shape. The outside is a sea of demonic energy, but the core…what is beneath the surface is a beautiful mix of blues and greens. Quinn watches your soul flex and shift with a bright smile.

<See? Magnificent, like you.>

A blush dusts your cheeks. Your swimsuit digs tightly into your crack and pussy in a way that makes you squirm happily. Quinn points out parts of your soul and explains how she could read the flows and colors. None of you have a precise idea of how she knows, but every time she says something, you’re baffled by how accurate she is. She points out the part of you that enjoys watching people get into romantic relationships and the part that takes joy from sculpting (that was supposed to be a surprise!).

She takes a few more volunteers. She shows off Emancipation’s intense desire for justice and his incredible sense of focus. December’s love of sports and most competitions. Quinn raises an eyebrow when she finds a particularly bright spark in March’s soul, right beside her courage.

She’s about to continue with New Year, but the sound of flesh slapping on flesh distracts her. Heads turn to watch Thrustbust fucking Unlucky at full speed, both of the cum-addled sluts going at it without any light behind their eyes.

“Hey! No! Stop!” Quinn snaps her fingers and teleports the incubus away. “Thrustbust is far more compromised…he was corrupting Unlucky faster than anyone else.”

Lady Quinn hums and looks closely at Unlucky. She picks up a recording gem and concentrates for a moment, powerful magics concentrating in the gem. She looks into her eyes and whispers something. Hypnotism. She frowns and pulls up the projection while maintaining eye contact. You watch on in awe as she places the gem on Unlucky’s forehead and it pulls in something from her. The orb with the corrupting roots winding through the surface sloughs off the upper layers and disappears.

“Ugh…where am I?” Unlucky rubs her forehead.

Her ridiculously large dick and boobs shrunk.

Quinn pays her no mind. She’s staring at the gem in her hand. Unlucky freezes as she looks over her body. As if she’s seeing it for the first time. She cups one of her tits and moans, a dribble of milk spraying from her nipple. As much as her sexual reawakening would be interesting to watch, Quinn twirls around and grabs your attention.

“Okay folks! I promise from now on this little meeting will be Quinn-free. I still want you guys to bring me any worries you could have, especially things that may come up in following meetings. Or if you want to brag about some new spells or discoveries.” Quinn pauses as a loud slurping sound echoes behind her.

Unlucky’s eyes are rolled back as she takes in the tip of her cock in a messy autofellatio between her fat tits. She’s pumping her dick with her boobs faster and faster. Her lips are stretched out as far as they can go, her cheeks sallow as she sucks her own cock like her life depended on it. The projection of her soul above her head is steadily regrowing the lost portions as if they’d never left. Days of memories are impacting Unlucky and changing her psyche by the second.

“Interesting…Looks like the memory absorption can revert. I better fix that.” Quinn mutters and snaps her fingers. Unlucky disappears. “Anyways, Haven is still evolving. Once we get the radio working, I’ll introduce some fun weather patterns. I’ve already made a calendar with special holidays based on Haven time…which is a bit difficult since I’ve named a lot of you after days and months.”

A lot of you give Quinn some strange looks. For her first kids, Quinn wasn’t exactly creative with names.

“Hey! I was sort of busy on the harpy ship, okay? I thought I’d be out in the week, and I had a theme I was going for. I’ll have Cloth transcribe Robinson Crusoe for you guys.”

Quinn clears her throat, and her green eyes avoid the stares in her direction. You roll your eyes; she did name a bunch of her new kids after plants. Though to be fair, you’re not sure if you’d be able to be original after over a hundred kids. Lady Quinn tends to pop out siblings at an incredible rate.

“One of the ways I wanted to make every month special was a lottery. Seven silver tickets that mortals—yes, even tourists—can enter a lotto for a chance to win. One golden ticket for any demon to enter. Maybe later, we can even have citizens join the lotto for a golden ticket, but they’ll have to pay.”

“What are they for?” September yells out.

“You can buy or sell the tickets. And you can’t force someone to sell or buy them!”

“Yeah, but what are they for, ya slut!?” Halloween jeers.

“People who win silver tickets get to share…me. For one night. Not for some quickie either.”

Most of you perk up. Quinn’s time is valuable, and the more Haven develops the less chances everyone has for exclusive time with her. She’ll give you a quick fuck if you ask, but nothing as intense as your early lives. And she was offering to have a full night with seven lucky winners. The perfect number to pleasure Lady Quinn. But most importantly was the hint of what the golden ticket would be.

“The golden ticket is for a full day with me. A full day of activities from romantic to sexual where I shift to fit your fantasy.”

You swallow the ball in your throat. A date? You look around and notice most of your siblings with equally interested expressions.

“And with that, I’m gone! Toodles!~” With a giggle and a puff of dark magic, she disappears. Leaving you all wondering who would get the ticket.