Chapter 7: The Crystalline Dildo

Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Princess Ava – Az, Princedom of Kivoneth, The Strifelands of Zeutch

I gasped in shock at the Valyan acolyte kneeling before me. Why did she call me “Masterwork Craft”? What an absolutely unflattering thing to call me. Why not your highness? Or my lady? Or even your beatific?

Masterwork Craft?

“Please, please, come inside,” the Valyan said, rising to her feet. An owl hooted in the background, mixing with the sounds of the bustling street. “I am so honored to have you here. Master Theophil is not awake yet, but I am more than pleased to invite you into the workshop and run some test upon you.”

“Tests?” I asked, glancing at Sven. He had an amused smile on his face. Did he find this funny? Masterwork Craft? What did she think I was, some sort of automaton? “Why do you need to run tests on me?”

“Isn’t that why you are here, Masterwork Craft?” frowned the acolyte. “To assert your connection to our God? But first I need to prove that you are one of Krab’s greatest creations.”

“Creations? I am a human, not a thing put together in a ... in a workshop!” I huffed.

“Of course, of course,” the acolyte said. “That is how amazing Krab’s tinkering is.” The girl’s ruby eyes glistened with excitement. “I mean, look at you. Just perfect.”

“You are perfect, Ava,” Sven said.

I glanced at him again and his smile had grown even larger. I whirled on the rest of the harem. Kora had an identical grin to her brother’s while Zanyia looked on the verge of chortling. Nathalie’s smile was tremulous, vanishing as I glanced at her, while Greta glared at the Valyan girl. What was that girl doing from that far Western lands in Zeutch anyways? She must be crazy to come this far. No wonder she was saying such insulting things about me.

“This way,” beckoned the acolyte. She moved into the temple.

“Not until you tell me what you mean, girl!” I hissed as the acolyte backed away, her bluish hands sliding through her reddish locks, trying to smooth them.

“I’m Journeyman Carsina,” she said, throwing a look over her shoulder. “And I mean you’re what is incorrectly known as an imbuer.”

“Incorrectly?” I muttered. “I am an imbuer. A descendant of your God.”

“That’s what the tests shall prove!” She stopped at a crossing branch of the corridor. “Please, please, hurry up, Masterwork Craft.”

“You heard her,” Sven said, putting his arm around my shoulder. “Let’s hurry up, Masterwork Craft.”

I glared daggers at him.

He just smiled before planting a kiss on the mouth. I shuddered, the feel of his lips sending a hot ripple through me. Then I groaned as he guided me forward, the rest of our family following along behind him.

“Why do you say ‘incorrectly’ called an imbuer?” I demanded as we followed Journeyman Carsina around the corner.

“Because it’s such an imprecise term. You don’t imbue, you empower.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Inside your soul is energy, a potential to do work and move crafted objects. Because you are the epitome of a human, perfected by Krab in your ancestor’s womb, you can empower objects manufactured by skilled artisans.”

I blinked at that. Empower? “I inhabit them, imbuing them with my soul.”

“That’s only one way you can empower, Masterwork Craft,” the journeyman said. She reached a door. “Here we are, my workshop. We can test you and make sure that you’re really one of Krab’s perfect creations. I may be wrong. I am not yet a master. I am still learning my skill, though the esoterics is the specialization of this temple.”

She opened the wooden door and stepped inside. Sven didn’t give me much choice. I bristled. Tests to prove I was a descendant of Krab? I wished we brought the feyhound. Then I’d show this annoying girl. I would imbue the feyhound and show her my prowess. I’d mount her and fuck her and make her explode on my wooden cock.

That would show her.

The workshop was a cluttered affair. There were several rough tables and workbenches scattered throughout the room. A variety of dildos in various shapes and styles covered one table, all in different stages of shaping, some rough phallus, others nearly polished smooth. Tools for woodworking, hanging from hooks, covered one wall. Everyone looked precisely in place. There was a wooden man, joints articulated, lay slumped in the corner, somehow propped up. Other objects of metal or wood or pottery adorned shelves. While another shelf was covered in finished dildos, a few made of different materials, smooth metal and polished crystal, but most were wood.

“I see what you are passionate in creating, Journeyman Carsina,” Sven said, glancing at the toys. “You appear to have such a passion for them.”

“Oh, I do,” she said, a big grin growing on her face. “I have personally tried out each one. They bring in a fair amount of donations to our temple. It is hard to make money when you work for a master specializing in the esoterics. There is not much of a market for those items, but those skills are important to maintain.

“However, the simple carpentry to carve dildos is something that any tyro can perform, let alone a journeyman like myself.”

What was a tyro?

“Of course,” Kora said, drifting to the sex toys. “You have some interesting ideas. These ridges must feel ... stimulating.” She stroked a wooden dildo carved with ridges banding down the shaft.

“Yes, they do,” Carsina said, her eyes growing soft behind her spectacles.

“Okay, you dragged us in here,” I said, “when we came for answers. So...”

“Right, right, the tests,” the girl said. “Ooh, this is so exciting to meet an imbuer. It is why I came to work with Master Theophil. The bloodlines of Krab are concentrated in Zeutch. So, let’s see if you can power these.” She grabbed a pair of crystalline dildos, both a deep blue. She shoved one at me and said, “Put this in your pussy. They are a linked pair, both carved from the same crystal formation and share the same vibration harmony.”

“My pussy?” I asked.

“Where else do you put a dildo?” I asked.

“Your asshole?” suggested Aingeal.

The journeyman glanced at the faerie, no longer hiding herself with invisibility, and blinked. “Oh, my, I didn’t notice you. You’re striking.”

“I am,” Aingeal said, running a hand through her pink hair.

“Why am I doing this?” I demanded, clutching the cool, smooth surface of the dildo.

The journeyman, unlacing the tight, leather britches she wore, gave me a smile, “Why, testing if you are a Masterwork Craft. You can empower them with your potential energy. If you are what you mistakenly call an imbuer, you should feel the crystalline structure calling to you.”

I frowned, glancing at the dildo. It did feel ... similar to a proxy. I could feel my soul wanting to slide into it. But surly I couldn’t inhabit a dildo. I mean, what could I do if I did imbue it? It didn’t have limbs for me to direct or eyes for me to see out of.

The journeyman wiggled her leather pants down her bluish thighs. They had such a pale hue to them, her skin impregnated by the soft hue. Her bright bush almost glowed compared to her skin, the contrast of her coloring striking. She brought the dildo, a much darker shade of blue, and nuzzled it up her thigh to her bush.

She groaned as she shoved it into her.

“Go on, Masterwork Craft,” she purred, her voice growing husky. She stood right before me, her ruby eyes smoldering. “Slide it into your pussy and power it.”

I shivered at the intensity in her eyes. “Greta, lift my skirt.”

“Yes, Mistress,” my bedmaid said. She no longer called me your highness, but adopted the same title the other sex slaves used. She ... enjoyed her new role.