88 Learning new things about people!

POV: Bishop Marybelle

“A death has finally happened. I warned you of this,” I state to the others at the table with me. A fat man and a bony woman are sitting across from me. The fat man is Kurk Lumber. Apparently, he was once a muscular man, but as usual, when the lower classes overstep their position, he was consumed by gluttony. Rokilda Castlehill, the thin woman, is the imperially appointed mayor who doesn’t live up to her family’s pedigree.

I hide my disgust behind a polite smile as Mr. Lumber responds, “I don’t see what the issue is. She was from the Northick kingdom.”

Lady Castlehill hesitantly raises her hand, “I, I think the dungeon did us a service. They likely planned to use a dungeon flood tactic.”

I feel my mouth straining to keep my cordial smile. I shake my head and respond, “We don’t know what the adventurer planned. What we do know is that we have a dangerous snake at our back.” After all, a moderately skilled adventurer was defeated by a new dungeon.

Mr. Lumber waves his hand, unconvinced. “You lot from Purity are all nitpickers. Dungeons are huge boons to the economy. It’s too bad it’s women only, though,” he spouts nonsense.

I retort, “Greed is unbecoming. We should focus on starving out the dungeon. The church will never condone such a degenerate place.”

“Ah, no one will think you aren’t a bishop if you stop for a day. The old bishop was much better,” Mr. Lumber scoffs at me.

Lady Castle’s head fearfully swings between us. “You both have valid points,” she pauses to look at me and then frantically says, “Ah! About the dungeon. I TRULY prefer our venerable Bishop Marybelle over that lazy old man.” Though, it’s hard to know if she’s telling the truth when she looks like she’s about to cry.

The conversation goes on without movement. In some ways, it reminds me of when I was back in the capital. If only I didn’t pick the wrong side of that debate. Are sweat rags that the working class wear on their heads hats or accessories? The way the church would regulate them would change based on who won. Ultimately, my faction lost, and I was sent to the edges of the empire.

POV Hedone Nemesis:

Mom is making dinner as I scamper down the stairs in the nude. “Mom, Cynthia is coming tomorrow. Can you help me pick her up from the airport?”

“I’m taking care of the dungeon. Ask Brigit.”

“But mom!”

“She won’t get better if you don’t give her a chance,” Mom scolds me.

Even if mom says that… Brigit driving is still the scariest moments of my life! There’s nothing I can do. I give in and trudge to my sister’s workshop. Hopefully, Cynthia will have her license and can drive back.

“Brigit! Cynthia is coming. Can you help me pick her up?”

Brigit jumps at my sudden intrusion. She seemed to be admiring under the figure's skirt. “Hedone! You scared the shit out of me.” She spins around, and her eyes widen at seeing me naked. “I like this new style of yours,” She purrs.

“Is it better than your doll?” I jokingly ask.

“Oh, this? Hildegard made a big upgrade!” She pushes off the ground and slides towards me. The wheels rumbling across the ground. She flips over the figure, and the skirt splays, exposing the woman’s nether regions.

Instead of the usual nothing there, I can see distinct pussy lips and a clit. My sister manipulates the barbie sized doll, spreading her legs open. The vagina opens up as Brigit explains about how it’s made of rubber and can actually be penetrated. She says a lot more, but that’s the gist I got.

“I don’t deal with male dolls. But apparently, she made it so they can get hard,” Brigit ends triumphantly.

I hesitantly say, “That’s neat.” I do think it’s kind of hot. But now that I can fuck real women, I’m not as interested.

Brigit nods, taking my noncommittal answer as interest, “Indeed. I’m pushing for more sexy boobs that can jiggle and bounce. But Hildegard wants to focus on ejaculation! Can you believe it?”

“Well, even in futanari hentai, the vagina is usually forgotten about,” I say, trying to actually participate in the conversation.

“What does that matter?” Brigit looks at me incredulously.

“I just think from a marketing standpoint, penis ejaculations probably have more value. I also enjoy squirting and cumming, so I think it’s logical. I would also prefer to focus on women, though. But Hildegard is straight, right?”

Brigit spins away, rolling back to her desk in defeat. “She is so horny for dick it’s ridiculous. But she is also scared of men,” my sister complains.

“That sucks. Did something happen?” I’ve heard Brigit talk about her friend a lot, and nothing about assault ever came up.

“Nothing bad happened. She’s just a coward. You know, she started designing dolls because she wanted to make a boyfriend,” A surprising secret is sent my way casually.

I can’t help but be curious and ask, “Did she make one?”

Brigit places the doll down and looks down in disappointment, her fiery hair lying across her desk. “She has a specially made ai… But the body.”

“I think she’s pretty good at that!” I exclaim in genuine surprise.

“Yeah, the problem is…”

“Is?”

“She’s obsessed with boybands…”

“….So?” I question, starting to get annoyed.

Brigit flops back in her chair and looks over her shoulder at me. “She isn’t a fan that obsesses over one band or boy. So each new hot group gives her new ideas, and nothing ever gets finished.” It makes me wonder if she isn’t scared of men but obsessed with the dream. It's kind of like those people that are 2d only.

“I don’t think there are that many boy bands nowadays.”

“You’re only thinking of US bands. But there are a bunch around the world. I only know this due to Hildegard.”

“I guess I prefer girl bands. But I mostly listen to techno. So even if there were a million boy bands, I wouldn’t notice,” I conclude before suddenly remembering why I’m here, “Hey, what about picking up Cynthia?”

“Your friend Cynthia?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t mind. What time?”

“Ten. I think that’s what she said… I’ll go check!” Worried about the time, I scamper back upstairs and text her. I get a laughing emoji response, and then 10 am. I blush, embarrassed, but it is better to be safe than sorry! I return to Brigit, “Ten am.”

After that, we eat a quiet dinner and I return to bed. Oops, I still haven’t put my clothes on. Oh well, it's too late now.