Chapter 46: Zara’s Training Continues With Olympia

Isela’s head was aching terribly. She had no idea where she was. She felt the hard metal shackles on her limbs, cold against her skin. She tried to speak to break the dark room’s silence, but she couldn’t even hear her own voice.

She was naked; she could feel it, and she was tied to some kind of table or whatnot, spread-eagled.

Suddenly, she felt somebody’s hand on her breasts. First, they just stroked her, playing with the nipples, but it soon turned into a very painful squishing motion, like they were trying to squeeze out juice from a fruit. She winced, feeling a sharp pain as they squeezed her breasts tighter.

Isela thrashed, but it was futile. Her body was bound by the unyielding metal shackles, leaving her utterly exposed and vulnerable. Then she could feel something else ... something big and warm touching her pussy lips. Somebody began to insert their cock into her, stretching her open without a care for her comfort. She felt the coldness of the room and the coldness of the metal bite into her skin as she was invaded by the unknown intruder’s hot, thick flesh.

Zara stepped through the door after training, shaking her hair free of sweat.

“Back already?” Olympia asked as she wandered in from the kitchen. “Almost everyone else cleared out ages ago.”

Indeed, only she, Akemi, Bambi, and Esmeralda were still there.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Zara said with a smirk. “Ran into Gaylor on the way. She breasted boobily down the stairs and titted determinedly into the distance.” She snickered at her own joke.

Akemi, sprawled sideways across Zara’s couch like a cat, rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous. So what’s got you in such a rush today?”

“Big day,” Zara said, kicking off her boots. “Bram asked me out yesterday. So, I’ve got the date, and then after that I have to haul myself back to Aritimi for another training session.”

Olympia shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah ... about that. It’s with me. Aritimi just messaged me like half an hour ago. Figured I’d wait for you here.”

“Perfect,” Zara said, already halfway to the bathroom. “You can keep the others company while I go ruin a perfectly good evening with Bram.”

After a lightning-quick shower, Zara emerged dressed almost exactly as before: black tank top, blue jeans, and freshly polished leather jacket. The only difference was that this set of clothes smelled like detergent instead of sweat and cum.

She pulled on her combat boots and flicked a grin at Olympia. “See you at the park, Oly.”

A few minutes later.

Zara spotted Bram leaning against the iron fence near the park entrance. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a gothic fashion magazine: black velvet coat brushing his thighs, tight trousers, boots polished to a mirror shine, and that streak of pink in his hair catching the late sun like a neon sign.

He waved lazily when he saw her, flashing a smile that was equal parts shy and smug. Zara suddenly felt like her leather jacket and tank top combo had been downgraded to “laundry day casual.”

“You’re late,” he teased as she approached.

“Not late. Fashionably ... sweaty,” she shot back.

Bram chuckled and offered his arm with mock formality. “Shall we?”

Zara rolled her eyes but took it anyway.

First, Bram led her to a narrow side street where a boutique displayed mannequins draped in lace, mesh, and leather. Inside, the racks were a storm of black fabric, chains, and glitter. Zara stuck out like a sore thumb among the customers, most of whom looked like they’d crawled out of a Tim Burton casting call.

“Try this,” Bram said, thrusting a hanger into her hands. It was a mesh shirt decorated with silver bats and a choker with enough spikes to qualify as a weapon.

Zara stared. “If I put this on, I’m going to get arrested just for existing.”

“Exactly,” Bram said, grinning. “It’ll be perfect.”

After much eye-rolling and swearing under her breath, Zara tried it on. When she stepped out of the changing room, Bram clasped his hands to his chest in exaggerated awe.

“You look like a vampire’s bodyguard. I’m in love.”

Zara muttered, “I hate you,” while quickly retreating to change back into her safe, monster-proof jeans.

Next, Bram dragged her to a street vendor tucked between two neon-lit bars. The stall sold fusion dishes that smelled like equal parts heaven and gastrointestinal warfare.

Bram ordered something unpronounceable, covered in peppers and dripping sauce, while Zara stuck to a safe skewer of grilled chicken.

“You’re such a coward,” Bram teased, offering her a bite of his dish.

Against her better judgment, Zara leaned in. One bite later, her face turned red, eyes watering, and she wheezed like she’d just swallowed a flamethrower.

Bram popped a piece of the same food into his mouth and chewed casually. “Mild.”

Zara grabbed his drink without asking and downed half of it. “How can you eat this? Burns more than an Infernal Elemental.”

He just smirked and dabbed a napkin across her cheek. “You’ve got sauce. Cute.”

Zara nearly combusted from embarrassment.

After the food chaos, they wandered into the softer evening glow of the park streets, Bram occasionally brushing his shoulder against hers, Zara pretending not to notice. Eventually, they slipped into a small café with warm lighting and a faint smell of roasted beans.

They found a table by the window. Zara dropped into her chair like a soldier collapsing after battle, while Bram sat down with perfect posture, crossing his legs elegantly.

“Not gonna lie, I didn’t expect you to actually show after the Open Day,” Bram said, sipping his drink.

Zara yawned and slumped in her chair. “I almost postponed. But I had to wake up early anyway for training with Aritimi, so ... here I am.”

“You’ve had a full day, huh?”

“And it’s not even close to done,” Zara groaned. “I’ve got another training session tonight. Only reason I squeezed this in is because Aritimi let me take a break.”

“What kind of training?” Bram asked, curiosity growing.

Zara fidgeted, twisting the edge of her sleeve. “Okay, cards on the table ... it’s, uh ... sexual stimulation training.”

Bram blinked. “I’m sorry ... a what?”

“Sexual stimulation,” she repeated, trying to sound casual and failing. “Apparently it activates my augmentations better than anything else.”

Bram leaned back, half-shocked, half-intrigued. “That ... sounds kinky. What does that even involve?”

Zara scratched the back of her neck. “Well ... Aritimi opens her portals, summons a bunch of monsters, and they ... y’know. Handle things. In ways normal humans can’t.”

Bram’s eyes widened. “God, that sounds painful.”

“It is sometimes. But regeneration covers a lot. I mean, I’ve survived way worse; I got decapitated once, for example.”

“What?!” Bram nearly choked on his drink.

Zara waved it off. “Different situation. Damage Control Unit, Lexisters, whole mess. Some Chloromancer and a big guy with an axe lopped my head clean off.”

“And you’re just sitting here telling me this over coffee.”

“Yup. We chased them off before they could run off with my body. Worked out fine.”

Bram shook his head, laughing nervously. “You’re insane. So tonight ... when you head back ... it’s more of the same?”

Zara nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Yep. I go get railed by monsters. Which, y’know, is why I haven’t really bothered dating. Who wants to compete with that? Weekly monster gangbangs aren’t exactly first-date material.”

There was a long pause. Bram swirled his drink, then said quietly, “I ... wouldn’t mind another date. You’re actually fun to be around. I’d give it another shot.”

Zara blinked, caught off guard. “Seriously? Uh. Yeah, sure. Why not?”

Her phone buzzed on the table. Aritimi’s name lit up the screen.

Zara, after saying goodbye to Bram, trudged back into the park. Olympia was already waiting near the fountain, arms crossed, her tank top straining against muscles that made her look like she could wrestle a car.

“You look ... tired,” Olympia said, giving Zara a once-over.

“Yeah,” Zara muttered. “It’s been a long day.”

Before Olympia could reply, the air in front of them split open with a crackle, and a circular portal flared to life. It shimmered a deep, glossy red, like molten glass.

“Showtime,” Olympia said, and the two of them stepped through.

“Ah, just in time,” Aritimi purred, standing at the center of the room already stripped bare, her skin gleaming faintly under the harsh lights.

Olympia’s eyes swept the cavernous space. “This place looks ... creepy.”

Aritimi gave a small nod. “Originally, it was built as a containment bay for monsters. Now, it serves ... other purposes.”

Zara frowned. “Didn’t you say there was going to be a special guest?”

A voice, rich and familiar, answered from above. “We are up here, youngling.”

They looked up. Perched along the catwalk was Aritimi’s entire bloodline; her sisters and their matriarch mother, Artemis herself. A line of tall, otherworldly women stretched across the railing, all of them gloriously naked.

Artume, Artixene, Artemina, Artemelle, Artemora, Artemyntha, Artanira, Artemavia, Artanis, Artamara, Artemae, Artariel, the twins Artemisca and Artemisia, Artemyraza, Artamas the eldest, and at the center, the mother who bound them all, Artemis.

“As you see,” Aritimi said smoothly, “we have a special audience tonight.” She gestured with a languid hand. “Now ... strip.”

Neither Zara nor Olympia argued. Zara quietly folded her clothes into a neat pile, while Olympia peeled hers away more slowly, half-naked before finally discarding the rest.

The contrast between them was striking once they stood bare beside each other.