.Chapter 195: Dinner episode. Asia and Priestess begin +18

Albedo's golden eyes narrow with theatrical indignation. "Fantastical? The only thing fantastical about this arrangement is the patience required," she says, crossing her arms beneath her chest. "I've been waiting longer than anyone."

"You've had sixteen turns," Kurumi points out, her heterochromatic eyes gleaming with amusement. "That's hardly suffering."

"Quantity isn't quality," Albedo retorts. "Some of us are being methodically savored while others get-"

"Bulma," you cut in, turning toward the blue-haired inventor who's already setting up the projector against the far galley wall. "What episode of Code Geass are we on tonight?"

Bulma adjusts her glasses, tapping the tablet. "Season one, episode eleven. The one where Lelouch establishes the Black Knights proper." She glances at C.C., who's sprawled across a bench with her green hair fanned across her arm, watching the setup with lazy amusement. "We skipped last night because of your psionic madness and multiple discussions, so C.C.'s been very patient."

"Patient isn't the word I'd use," C.C. murmurs without opening her eyes. "I've been rewatching episodes four through seven on my own. The mask episode was particularly relevant to my interests."

You push yourself up from the bench, intending to grab food from the Heroes' Feast table. Your feet barely touch the deck plating before Mikasa appears at your left side, her plate already loaded with roasted meat and vegetables. Roxanne appears at your right, her tail wagging once as she settles onto the bench beside you, her own plate set smoothly on the table.

Both women press in close. Mikasa's muscular thigh against yours, her dark eyes steady and possessive. Roxanne's soft breast brushes your arm as she leans in, her auburn eyes watching close.

Maria steps in behind you, placing a full dinner plate on the table surface. Her violet eyes hold that particular glint of satisfaction. "It's their turn," she says simply, pressing her palm against your shoulder to guide you back down onto the bench.

You settle, understanding immediately. Your left arm slides around Mikasa's waist, fingers finding the bare skin between her Survey Corps jacket and the waistband of her pants. Your right arm wraps around Roxanne's midsection, thumb brushing the curve of her hip through her maid outfit.

Mikasa picks up a piece of roasted meat with her fork and brings it to your lips. Her expression is focused, intense, the same concentration she brings to combat training now directed entirely at feeding you. You accept the bite, and her dark eyes soften fractionally.

Roxanne follows immediately, her tail thumping against the bench as she offers a piece of bread. "Master, you haven't eaten enough today," she says, her voice warm with genuine concern. Her floppy ears lean forward as she watches you chew.

They alternate. Mikasa's portions are precise, measured, each bite sized exactly. Roxanne's are generous, sometimes doubled, her tail wagging faster when you accept. Between them, their bodies press warm and insistent against your sides.

The projector flickers to life across the galley wall. Lelouch's face appears, that calculating smirk already forming. C.C. sits up slightly, golden eyes reflecting the screen's glow.

Esdeath watches the feeding dynamic from two tables away, her ice-blue eyes cataloging every detail. Akame has stopped sharpening her knife. Tatsumaki's green eyes flick between the screen and the intimate tableau with undisguised fascination.

Hancock stares at her own untouched plate.

Mikasa feeds you another bite, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, "You worked hard today. Let us take care of you."

The projector casts Lelouch's calculated face across the galley wall. Episode eleven unfolds - the landscape manipulation, the strategic reversal that turns an unwinnable battle into a decisive victory. You half-watch, already knowing every scene. The cliff collapse. The Black Knights' emergence. The military's need for sudden response. You focus instead on the room.

C.C. sits forward on her bench, golden eyes reflecting the screen's glow. When Lelouch manipulates the terrain, she makes a small sound. Her lips curve. She's seeing something the others can't.

Bulma adjusts her glasses, her blue ponytail swaying as she leans toward the screen. "The geological analysis is completely wrong," she mutters. "That cliff wouldn't collapse from a single explosive charge at that angle. The load-bearing distribution-"

"It's a show, Bulma," Yoruichi says lazily from where she sits with Yugito leaning against her shoulder. "Shows should still respect physics."

Sinon, sitting nearby with her arms crossed, scoffs softly. "Worse than the physics is the tactical reliance on a single environmental trigger. If the Britannian vanguard had scouted the ridgeline properly or maintained standard spacing, half those frames escape the mudslide. It’s too reliant on the enemy being arrogant."

"Arrogance is a predictable resource," Esdeath counters, her ice-blue eyes tracking the troop movements with clinical precision. When Lelouch's forces flank the crushed Britannian column, she nods once. "The terrain advantage was decisive. He forced his enemy into a killing field. However, relying on a clumsy landslide."

Rika laughs, leaning back with a drink. "Hey, a win's a win, ice queen. Though I've gotta agree with Sinon - relying on a mountain not falling sideways on your own troops takes some serious balls. Or total disregard for your people."

Erza crosses her arms, her expression severe. "He risked the lives of the civilian populace below the mountain to achieve that tactical miracle. A victory bought with the blood of those you claim to protect is a stained one."

Albedo sits perfectly upright, her dark wings slightly flared, casting a protective shadow over the corner of the table. Her gaze alternates between Lelouch's onscreen theatricality and you. "A petty display," she hums smoothly, her golden eyes narrowing. "To rely on such loud, messy tricks to manipulate humans. Lord Brad requires no such dramatics to command absolute devotion."

Beside her, Kurumi giggles behind her pale hand, her clock-eye spinning lazily. "Oh, but the drama is the best part, Albedo-san. The desperation of a boy playing God with a stolen eye... it's quite exquisite, isn't it?"

Further down, Nami is actively scribbling on a piece of parchment, calculating numbers. "Forget the strategy - look at the infrastructure damage! The logistics of rebuilding that entire district after a landslide... the Britannian nobility must be hemorrhaging money. If we ever go to war like this, Brad, please tell me we're looting the supply lines before you blow up the mountain."

Musashi, chewing on a toothpick with her boots propped on an empty crate, chuckles. "Hard to loot a target that's buried under ten tons of rock, navigator. I like the kid's spirit, but his sword work is nonexistent. He commands from a box. Real leaders bleed with their men."

Akame, sitting two tables away, doesn't react to the combat. But when Lelouch addresses the crowd afterward, when he declares the Black Knights as 'allies of justice,' something flickers across her red eyes. Her knife stills mid-stroke over her food.

Sango shifts slightly beside her, her hand resting on the hilt of Hiraikotsu. "Allies of justice," she repeats under her breath, a faint, bittersweet smile on her lips. "People who use that title usually end up carrying the heaviest curses. It reminds me too much of rogue slayers who thought they could fix the world alone."

Hinata keeps her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her lavender eyes wide as she watches the fallout of the battle. "He... he looks so lonely up there," she whispers softly to Asia Argento, who is sitting next to her.

Asia nods, her emerald eyes full of genuine sorrow. "He's hiding his true self from everyone, even his sister. To carry a power that forces compliance... it must hurt his soul very much. I pray he finds peace."

Priestess nods in quiet agreement, her staff leaning against the bench. "Using authority to twist a person's free will... it feels dangerously close to a defilement of the mind. I hope the light guides him back."

Hancock watches the screen with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her dark eyes unreadable. She hasn't touched a single bite of her food. Riveria sits right beside her, her jade eyes fixed calmly on the projection, but one hand rests casually near Hancock's elbow, offering a silent, grounding presence without pushing for words.

Maria and Rin sit tucked away near the back. Maria is quietly braiding a strand of Rin's hair while Rin watches the political maneuvering of episode twelve with sharp, analytical focus. "The Kyoto House is testing him," Rin notes cleanly. "They don't care about his ideals; they care about his leverage. He's smart to use his personal connection, even if it's a bluff."

Liza and Tuka watch from the middle row. Tuka's long elf ears twitch as she listens to the background audio of the ruined city. "The wind carries so much grief from that valley," she sighs softly. Liza places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, her strict posture relaxed but alert. "That's the reality of a total war footing, Tuka. Brad keeps our home secure so we don't have to hear those sounds here."

Tatsumaki has abandoned her napkin sketches entirely. She's watching the episode with her chin propped on both fists, her green hair falling forward. When Lelouch uses his Geass on the JLF commander, her eyes narrow sharply. "Mind control," she says flatly, shooting a pointed look directly across the room at you. "That's one way to show what it looks like from the outside."

Yugito's golden eyes remain fixed on the screen, her body still pressed firmly against Yoruichi's side. Her pupils dilate slightly when C.C. appears on-screen, the green-haired immortal lounging casually in Lelouch's room. Yugito glances at the current C.C. sitting at the front, then back at the screen, processing the dynamic.

Violet watches Lelouch's expressions with an almost eerie stillness, her prosthetic fingers lightly tapping against her knee. "His words say 'justice,' but his eyes speak of an unexploded debt," she says softly to Emilia, who is sitting beside her. Emilia tilts her head, her amethyst eyes reflecting a deep, empathetic sadness as she watches the screen. "It's so heartbreaking," Emilia murmurs, her hand resting over her heart. "To carry a power that forces everyone to obey you... it means you can never truly know if someone is smiling at you because they want to, or because they have to."

Shinobu Oshino, sitting on a high stool in the darkest corner, bites into a golden donut with an audible crunch. "A contract written in blood and power," she mutters, her vampire eyes gleaming in the dim light.

Episode twelve begins - the meeting with the Kyoto House, the old Japanese supporters. Lelouch's sneaks into their meeting using Geass and secures their cooperation. The power dynamics play out across the wall, alliances forged through supernatural coercion dressed in diplomatic language.

Mikasa feeds you another bite, her lips brushing your ear. "You're not watching," she whispers.

"I've seen it before."

"Then what are you watching?"

You squeeze her waist gently. "The audience."

She follows your gaze across the crowded galley, taking in the web of reactions, then her dark eyes soften with something like understanding. She feeds you another piece of meat, slower this time, her thumb brushing your lower lip as you accept it.

Roxanne's tail wags harder against the bench. "Master's paying attention to everyone," she says softly, her auburn eyes warm and filled with pure admiration. "That's why they like him."

The episode ends. Bulma reaches for the tablet to queue the next one, but C.C. raises a hand, her voice cutting through the ambient chatter of the room. "That's enough for tonight."

You nod at C.C. "Agreed. Time for bed."

The galley shifts. It's a subtle thing, plates pushed aside, conversations trailing off, bodies resettling. Everyone knows what 'bed' means in this household. Shinobu Oshino bites into her last donut and retreats to the darkest corner of the crew quarters without a word. C.C. stretches lazily. "I'll monitor from the Stallion tonight," she murmurs. "Riveria's shift starts at midnight."

Rika gathers her tactical vest and tablet, heading for the command center. "I've got watch duty next."

But most of the women rise with you. Mikasa and Roxanne shift away from your sides, giving just enough space as Asia approaches with Priestess trailing half a step behind. Asia's modified habit sways as she moves, her emerald eyes bright. She reaches you and rises on her toes, pressing her lips to yours in a soft kiss that lingers.

"Master," she whispers against your mouth. "Priestess wants to participate tonight. She's been watching for the last few days."

You look past Asia to the blonde cleric standing with her staff clutched to her chest, her white-gold robes pristine, her blue eyes wide but resolute. You give Asia another small kiss, then extend your hand toward Priestess.

She takes it. Her fingers tremble. You draw her close and press your lips to hers soft, slow, unhurried. She makes a tiny sound against your mouth, her free hand finding your shoulder and gripping.

When you pull back, her cheeks are flushed crimson. "Thank you," she breathes.

The two blondes lead you through the Mansion door. Behind you, the procession follows: Hinata, Mikasa, Nami, Yoruichi, Erza, Kurumi, Emilia, Tuka, Liza, Violet, Roxanne, Sinon, Kurumu, Albedo, Riveria, Esdeath, Akame, Yugito, Tatsumaki. Some will observe. Some will participate. The choice is always theirs.

You store your clothes instantly, lying back on the massive bed naked, your cock already half-hard into the air. You watch everyone follow in, the room filling with soft bodies and warm skin.

Asia and Priestess stand together at the foot of the bed, two slender blondes in holy vestments, Asia's modified habit with its short skirt, Priestess's flowing white-gold robes. They look at each other, then at you, and begin undressing.

Asia pulls her habit over her head first, revealing her petite frame, small breasts with pink nipples already stiffening, the smooth plane of her stomach. She folds the fabric neatly and sets it aside.

Priestess follows more slowly. Her robes part, sliding from her shoulders, revealing a body slightly fuller than Asia's, soft curves, round breasts with pale nipples, a thatch of golden hair between her thighs. She stands naked and trembling, her blue eyes finding yours.

Asia happily climbs onto the bed first, straddling your hips casually. Her wet pussy presses against the head of your cock, and she sinks down with a soft moan, taking you inside her in one smooth motion. Her inner walls clench around your shaft, hot and tight, and she begins to ride you with gentle rolling motions, her small breasts bouncing.

Priestess approaches your head, her knees finding the pillow on either side of your face. She lowers herself slowly, her golden-haired pussy descending toward your mouth. You grip her thighs and guide her down, your tongue finding her slit immediately, tasting her, parting her folds, pressing against her clit.

Priestess gasps sharply, her hands bracing against the headboard. "Oh! oh, that's-"

Asia rides you harder, her hips grinding down, her emerald eyes watching Priestess's face with warm encouragement. "Just breathe," Asia says softly. "Let yourself feel it."

Your tongue works Priestess's pussy with long strokes, circling her clit before dipping lower, tasting her wetness. She's already dripping, her body responding despite her nerves. Her thighs shake against your ears.

Around the room, the others settle in, some on the bed's edges, some on cushions scattered across the floor, some simply watching from standing positions against the walls. The nightly ritual begins.