The story of a boy and his pet succubus and their adventures in Pandemonium.

“...Lyra I summon and bind you here!”

—and there’s a blur and something rushes through me and out of my hand and with a bamf of displaced air Lyra’s bound, her grin turned surprised and lusty with widened eyes at finding my fingers firmly around her neck.

Things accidentally saved for Master because I was emo, #347: breath play.

Thing not learned because of that: oh my fuck this is intense, you’d think I actually needed...oh my fuck kissing when I can’t breathe is...oh god...

Gaaasp whew. Cupping my chin, yum, come on, kiss me...ung yus kiss me and stroke my cunt even better fuck am I just still that wet from before? It felt like it but I could swear this is mooooore oh fuck yes...boo.

Are you going to make me taste...oh, ooh. Slippery on my lips don’t lick it off, self, don’t lick...yuum. Oops.

“Tastes pretty good, doesn’t it?”

Sweat reactive nectar nom fuck it who needs dignity anyway.

Can’t nod don’t wanna talk bet you’ll get it if I just don’t hide the way this stuff makes me feel.

Yup. Oooh right you’ll need to get moooore...

“Have some more, then. No licking it off your lips, this time.”

Oh god yus a whole finger’s worth and also sucking on finger unf...okay. On my lips, don’t lick it off until...oooh. Oh kiss me. Oh so deep. Makes our lips so slippery, yeah...

“I love you.”

I’ve broken the kiss, my lips just brushing hers as I speak.

“Love you too, Master...”

“Ready?”

Hands on my waist, ready to catch me. Nod nnf.

“...ready...”

Short and poetic. Something a little different this time.

“Give me your lust, and you’ll be free.”

Whoop! So totally expected to be bound again, bondage makes you taste so awesome I totally assumed it’d be something with that.

What did we get? I don’t feel anything...

Pressure. Intense, contained, but healthy, right. Enough pressure, not too much or too little, slowly seeping away but constantly replenished by some source in the center of the pressure. Contained in something flexible, something with a top and a bottom and places where the boundary is thinnest, two below, one above, two between, places where the pressure seeps away fastest.

I set Lyra to her feet, regarding her, and she looks back, curious, eyes asking for another kiss, but I’m distracted, trying to understand the dismissal.

“Anything?”

“Something. It feels like...I dunno. Pressure?”

Can I do anything with this? It’s far less obvious than the last. I can...sort of pull at the boundary. It’s ‘flexible’, but pressing at it seems not to have any visible effect.

“Does that feel like anything?”

Shrug.

The thin places are thin because they’re under tension: they’re not just flexible, but elastic. I pull, gently, at one of the lower places, and it yields comfortably, nowhere near the limit of its stretch, but nothing seems to happen - she shifts on her feet, but doesn’t otherwise react.

Dammit, the suspense is turning me on. Obscure ones are always fun.

Wait, no, fuck, it’s not just...eep that’s my...ulp! Oh fuck, this one’s going to be interesting. Are the only towels all the way back by the airlock?

Well. It won’t be towels you’re cleaning me up with anyway.

When I tug at the upper thin place, it stretches easily, catching me off guard with how little ‘force’ is needed, and Lyra swallows, eyes wide, so I release the pressure.

“What did that do?”

“Um. You’ll want to kiss me and try that.”

I cannot believe it actually felt good. Dignity, who needs it, not me apparently. I’ll say one thing though, if this doesn’t get you caught up on nectar, nothing’s going to.

“Oh?” I wrap a fist in her hair and bring her to me, parting her lips with my own, and pull mentally, stretching the thin place further this time, and when I do she melts into me, kiss inviting and open-mouthed and wet and then nectar fills my mouth and I understand what I’m controlling, and pull the thin place to its limit.

Oh my fuuuuuuck...

Drunk from a kiss or oral it’s intense, but this is overwhelming, a vision-blurring rush almost like coming, one swallow after another, the power of it filling me to my extremities, making my hands burn with life where they hold her to me. She’s breathing hard, ragged and urgent, through her nose, aroused: this isn’t just fun for me.

More.

Laying my free hand against her outer lips, I pull open the lower thin place that seems, now that I understand the shapes, to be her cunt and she quails, moaning, weight settling against my hand that’s rewarded with a hot gush of slick nectar.

Oh fuck oh my fuck please neep...whew gaaaasp...

Handful of nectar. Please, please...fuck, what is this one doing to me? Fuck it I have to...

I break the kiss and let her stop overflowing and she takes a long, panting breath, looking at me out of lusty, almost fearful eys.

Her arms and wings have been wrapped around me as we’ve made out, but when I bring my hand up from her pussy she seizes my wrist with both hands, looking at the fingers hungrily.

I respond with a look: Not this one, this is mine. There’s plenty more where that came from.

Butbutbut...please? Dammit, look at me. Mrf. This must be part of the dismissal.

Right? Neep.

“Patience.”

Her hands still cling to my wrist, but she doesn’t fight when I lick my hand clean, wondering if I’m making as much of a melodramatic face of pleasure as it feels like, and so by way of reward I rub the last of the nectar onto my own lips and—

OMFG POUNCE. Unf, lick it off him slower, self, you’ll enjoy it more. Now, do I dare make out yes apparently so mmm phew no being wrung out this time just extra nectary and I think that’s just me being turned ooooon whoah oh god it’s hard to stand when you do that...

“Here.” Another handful of nectar squeezed from her cunt, dripping, a pool of it cupped in my palm. This time I don’t resist when she seizes my wrist to drink it down, licking my hand perfectly clean with a desperate, cooing hunger.

“I think you like your taste almost as much as I do.”

Oh fuck me, I’m gonna be so completely fucked. I guess this had to out at some point...

“I...mmm...yum...it’s only licking it off you, when it’s on you it soaks...mmf...after a while it soaks up the energy of our...play, makes it taste...amaaaazing...”

Come on, there must be more someplace, maybe under your nails? No? Humf. Fuck, listen to me...

“...mmf...and now there’s SO MUCH and the dismissmal’s doing something so it gets yummy faster, I can’t control...more, please more, Master...”

I wanted...I promised myself I wasn’t gonna resist what I am, I wasn’t gonna be lame like Leah and miss all the stuff I’ve watched her miss, I promised I’d follow this whereever it led, but...please let this be the dismissal. I at least wanna have enough self control to be able to be good when you tell me to...

Don’t fail me now, please-eyes. “Please?”

She’s looking at me, and then my hand that she still holds loosely, and then down, hesitating, and then pulling it towards her cunt. I should be absorbing what she’s just said about nectar because it’s clearly going to make life interesting, should be saying yes or no, but I’m busy with the realization of what, I think, the binding can actually do.

I collect my wits, and hold my hand still, for the moment. I’m not going to torment or deny her, I just have something in mind.

“No! Please, please more! Please...” Fuck me I sound like I’m going to cry, feel like I’m gonna cry, how can...oh. This isn’t a mindfuck, we didn’t somehow do something to my head after all with this dismissal, this is just me. I would’ve walked up and tried to kick that seraphim in the balls if I’d thought it’d get us here, and now I’m surprised I’ll beg for this? I’ve been begging the whole time. “Please...”

“Count to ten, and you can have as much as you want.”

Oh god okay...anything, just please...

“Onetwo...three...”

Oh my...what’s...no I have to...

Her counting trails off, and she’s looking from my face to my hand in hers and back, conflicted, lips parting so she can lick them. She wants things that would require letting my hand go, letting the count go, but she can’t drop either option.

The new sense in my mind this time can be prodded, stretched, explored. It can also be caressed. Gently stroking the place that fills her mouth with nectar has opened her lips, made her look at me with hungry kiss-me eyes. Running tender mental fingers over the two middle-places couldn’t make her nipples any harder than they already are, but the wish to touch them is no doubt what’s giving her hands pause right now. She’s totally focused on this conflict, apparently having even forgotten her tail and wings, which hang limply.

Caressing someone’s body with your own fills a need, scratches that maddening itch to be touched that comes with lust. This Dismissal is...the other side of that.

And of course it’s all just thought, so there’s nothing to stop me stroking the whole representation of her form at once while I do this, but for the place representing her pussy: that would tip the balance, and also just be cruel.

And, I’m saving it, there will be a perfect moment...

“Good femme, what number is next?”

She’s actually let go with one of her hands to pull at a lip and starts to take a finger in her mouth, but I pull it away so she can talk and she whimpers, frustrated.

“Well?”

...can’t...think...need...

In response, she pulls at the hand that’s taken hers from her mouth, drawing it to a breast where she arches against me, exhaling relief and pleasure when I take hold and squeeze the nipple, releasing my hand to cup her other breast when it’s clear I’m not going to let go.

A single mental caress of her cunt, and it’s as if there’s a long, slow, letting-go in her and then she’s tugging at my other hand again, trying to pull it there, desperate, animal.

“Please...nrg!”

And she’s strong, lifting herself fractionally off the floor with the force of it for a moment, and then as I keep mentally stroking heat into her her hands still and she takes my free hand and pulls it to her mouth, cooing with pleasure at the touch, eyes closed. I don’t try to withdraw, but she momentarily sets sharpened fangs against it ready to bite should I try to deny her this and then melts, wholly lost in the sensation, as I match mental and physical caresses, exploring the slick softness of her mouth.

Her other hand is still trying to force mine between her legs, slipping off its nectar-damp shape to grip again, pulling, clawing at me, so, noting the way there’s a rhythm in her response to my mental caresesses of her mouth, I apply the same to her cunt and then also the whole front of her form and she moans, piteous, around my fingers, eyes opening to plead with mine, needing.

For a moment, only a moment, I let her feel it, let the need burn her, and then I relent, pushing us against the window, laying my weight atop her, splaying her out as she grinds my fingers into her cunt, unsure if she’s trying to cover me in nectar effectively or just satisfy the lust I’ve raised. She’s flowing, dripping down her thighs, the mental floodgate stretching open of its own accord as I caress and then more at the touch of my hand.

“As much as you want, as much as you can drink, but you have to kiss me after every handful. This first one is yours but then you have to share.”

Oh god...okay...

“Mmm...”

...I need to...I can’t...oh god...need to...nectar...oh GOD please put a finger in me put your hand in me please I’ll crumble if I stop getting touched but nectar...want to feel...something inside...can I...fingers...

“...please...”

Slick lips that lead...indside...inside of hips that lower hungrily onto them when I take my two middle fingers and let them slide inside her, index and pinky along her outer lips, drinking in her moan of relief and pleasure as I fill her.

God oh god yuuus now fuck me come on...

She’s hot inside, textured and slick like a human girl, and her cunt clutches my fingers with a powerful clench as she settles weight onto my hand, angling as if she could climb up my arm, devouring it bit by bit.

The part of me that knows everything except when to stop thinking notes that I’m not finding a cervix nor should I have expected to because this isn’t a reproductive organ, and then gets distracted with a much better anatomy question: does she have a G-spot?

OH MY FUCK OH GOD FUCK I can’t stand up when...hold me eep...OH...

Yes, she does. She does, and with fingers inside her I’m able to find in the dismissal’s magic the place I’m fingering and catch her between the hammer of my physical hands and the anvil of this lust-raising magic and make her writhe, pinned between me and the window, singing her lust to me around my fingers in her mouth.

More. More of that nectar, more of the way she licks it off me. I finally muster the self-control to withdraw my fingers and cup my hand against her and pull a gush of nectar from her, even bigger than expected, the flow lingering: the thin-stretched place is more yielding now, like it wants to be stretched open. She fights me, trying to hold my fingers inside her and then when by slipperiness and my strength she can’t trying to work her fingers between my hand and her cunt to keep playing, lost in the need to be touched. I can feel her lust feeding back to me through the dismissal, like the shape in my mind is hot where she needs to be touched and can be soothed by my hands, and understand that noone alive has the willpower to resist what I’m doing to her.

Big drops stretch free of my overflowing hand to spat against the stone floor as I raise it to her lips, pulling my other hand away to make room.

“Careful, don’t spill.”

But of course it’s tricky to drink from a hand when you’re not mad with lust and masturbating desperately and some falls to her breasts to run into her cleavage and hot and slick between our bodies as she drinks and then licks my hand clean and I find that my other hand is already at her cunt, while she’s licking this one, fighting into position to be filled with nectar and then somehow I’ve squeezed another handful out of her and gotten it to her lips and I want to kiss her but she drinks it down before I can so I caress at her mouth in my mind, making it desperate, hungry to be full of something solid and alive, and then in the dismissal’s new sense something moves oddly and...

Wow lots this time yum oh god fingers fingers are good too...that...weird...almost feels like...

There are two layers, one thick, one thin, in the place in the dismissal that makes her mouth flow with nectar, and I know what they do. I’ve been, to this point, only stretching the thick one, but now I take the thin one and pull it to the limit. She’s already licked my hand clean and is going down on my fingers recreationally by this point, eyes opening for a hopeful glance toward my other hand where it’s come to rest on her hip, but instead I use the hand she’s sucking and her need for it to bring her face to mine, replacing fingers with my tongue, trying to be merciful and not leave her a moment unfilled.

Boo, no, fingers...okay then fucking kiss me come on yes I can suck your tongue into my mouth gimme that nice big tongue bigger every time I swear and I will fucking bite if you try to take it away I need this dammit so...wait, what...oh my fuck what did we do...

Her kiss is desperate and hungry, drawing my tongue shockingly far in, but otherwise normal-for-a-succubus at first, still a bit slick from drinking out of my hand but otherwise her and I’m impatient so I open the thick layer, filling her mouth...

Oh my fuck I didn’t think anything could be this slippery holy fuck I mean I’ve felt it in my cunt but this is totally diff...oh my god oh god it works on your tongue on your mouth it makes it taste like when your hand...unf...more...

...and as soon as I’ve swallowed the drink of nectar - the thick, slick, intense nectar of her cunt, welling up from her mouth - my mouth is full of succubus tongue, probing hungrily, exploring behind my lips and under my own tongue and everywhere else she can reach with it, relentless. She even manages to make do with only one hand touching herself, raising the other to clutch at my face, holding us together, so I pull another swallow from her, and then another, and then I’m holding the flow open, drinking and drinking, taking in the overwhelming flow of nectar I’ve wanted ever since that first real taste, still making out around the flow, Lyra’s breath from her nose hot and ragged on my face, and...

You do spontaneously come if you drink enough succubus nectar, it’s inevitable but that’s okay because one of us has stripped the towel off me and hurled it across the room and I’m lifting her off the ground and forcing her legs open, pinned against the window, trying to enter, once, twice, but fucking someone up against a wall for the first time is tricky and then somehow we’re on the ground and I’m in her, me on top, arms wrapped around each other, still kissing although we must have let a lot spill because our bodies are covered and slick so that we can’t get a grip on each other, Lyra pawing at my ass with slippery fingers while I crush her to me, trying to work my burning, throbbing cock deeper into her, unsure even if I’m already coming or just alive with the fury of energy she can drink out of me when we’re actually having sex, and the power of all this nectar as it burns through me.

More, I can take more, she can give more, I open her to her limit, the heat of it flowing down my shaft inside her to spread over my hips between us. I’ve drunk...how much? Gallons, satisfying, but it doesn’t fill me, even at this rate absorbing away into my body to works its magic as fast as I can drink it down, making me...

Oh...oh fuuuck I didn’t think it was even possible to make this much this is so...oh...I’m not...not keeping up, please don’t drink me up I want to keep being yours forever...I’m...oooh...feels so good, letting...go...

...come...

...letting...oh...

...and come...

...fuck OH FUUUCK

...and then Lyra comes beneath me and for a moment I can bask in then beauty of her climax, clenching against my cock and drinking in the come I’ve already come and then it’s as if some circuit completes and I explode properly, pumping impossibly much come into her, on and on...

...and on oh my god yum so much cum and all that nectar is going straight to your balls and you’re just going to keep...oh my fuck, did we ignite? I guess that would be...hope this isn’t a bad place to...ooooooooh fuck it let’s fuck forever I feel so good...

...and on and ten thousand years go by in an eyeblink and I keep coming and keep drinking and Lyra keeps coming, moaning into the kiss, cunt gripping my cock with a grip so tight I doubt I could withdraw if I wanted and still we don’t let up, powering each other, harder and harder, unending...

Oh. My. Oh...oh...oh. Well okay, this is still pretty...ooh...

I’m starting to master myself through the orgasm, collect my wits enough to play with the dismissal, to make sure Lyra enjoys having me inside her just as much as she’s physically capable of, and then all too soon it’s fading and I realize that I’ve only managed to concentrate this much because it’s been fading.

The flow of nectar dries...well. Nothing near us is going to be dry for a bit, I can see an actual puddle glistening dark on the stone floor and spreading from under our heads where we’ve spilled in the passion of making out. But the flow of nectar subsides, and thereby so do I, and thereby so does Lyra, though we don’t stop kissing or having sex until things are well and truly done, and even then we lie joined, my erection lingering in defiance of biology, for long moments, panting together. Even now her pussy holds me tight, a welcome warm pressure, comforting.

“Oh Master...” Want to talk, can only whisper.

Hollow Heart. Not far enough until it’s too far. I’d let you break me. I’d let you drink me up. I wouldn’t even be pissed, because it’s yours, all of it. Just as long as it made you happy.

If I didn’t know you’d burn all of Pandemonium to keep me around, I’d be so scared right now.

Hell, I bet that sword would burn all of Pandemonium if we drew it, by this point.

For the second time tonight, a light beneath me draws my eyes open: Lyra’s stars are shining, bright and purple-white, the color seeming brilliant and blue in the red of the bridge. After a moment, she opens luminescent purple eyes, gazing at me happy and sated, and then focuses on something above us.

Oh. Right, I’d rather forgotten about them. Twisting around to look, I catch the captain giving us a smirking look while the co-pilot gazes out the canopy, alert.

To Lyra: “They’re still watching, huh.”

Hehe. “Yeah, I think so. Looks like she enjoyed the show.”

The captain’s eyes are a hot flood over my back, my bare ass. I try for embarrassment, but something’s wrong and it won’t launch. Am I liking this? I am not liking this. Nope. No. And poor Lyra, it’s one thing to parade for an audience that’s only half paying attention in a place where clothes are optional anyway, but something else entirely to get fucked in front of...

Yeah, no. The thoughts aren’t sticking. Even I can’t bullshit my way out of this one.

Seriously, what the fuck. Am I this narcissistic?

Poor Master, is this actually a surprise for you? But you like it so much, it’s all...yum...just a little push, for flavor...

“She’s totally checking you out. Bet she wishes she’d asked if she could get off to watching us play.”

I will not. I will not imagine the captain watching us from her chair with a hand between her legs and the other cupping a breast to...dammit.

“I’m surprised she didn’t anyway, we kind of had sex in front of her.”

In response, Lyra presses her hips to mine, making my ‘front of her’ stumble.

Oh. I’m still hard, no doubt by some lingering effect of the nectar overdose I just had, there’s no way this situation could...help...

“Kind of are having sex in front of her.”

“It’s not very nice to wank to someone without their consent.”

And, you know, tends to get you spiked.

“Wanna give her a show she can get off to? She’s been making like she wants one since we came on board.”

Mwahah, your face right now.

“...no, sh!”

If I climb off Lyra, am I defusing the situation or showing the captain the rest of myself?

“I...”

Grind. Carefully. I’m being a good girl if I encourage you, right??

“You know you want to, come on.”

“You like showing off.”

“I dunno, maybe I kinda do...”

I mean, it’s not that big of a surprise. Cheryl totally called it months ago, if nothing else. Glad I didn’t make a bet over that.

“...I can tell you do...”

She’s cooing, voice naughty, lower lip caught under one fang lusting-thoughtfully.

I want, to want, to look for the towel. I try, I fail.

It’s like the motion of Lyra’s cunt on me squeezes the words out of my subconscious:

“I want to show us both off.”

And? Give me an order, you can do it.

“No problems there, she’s obviously bi.”

Yeah, I sound like a hick, spike me. I’m not getting into the whole orientation-terminology discussion right now.

“What about you, though.”

“I want to just chill out and do what my Master tells me to instead of thinking for a while. Play with me.”

I am not going to do this. I am not.

I so am.

“Then ask the captain if she still wants a show.”

Lyra looks up, but the captain speaks first, clearly having been waiting to say something.

«Three ges warning, you two.»

“NO! Dammit!”

“What? What’d she just say?”

Looking again, the captain is actually piloting now, busy with the controls and murmured exchanges with the copilot, and I can see our course twisting and turning through the window as we thread around swimmers and ships and geology.

«Thanks.»

“Our stop is in three ges, and um...I’m full of so much cum I can’t move. You’re actually holding in what I can’t swallow because I’m full.”

Swallow. Right, wasn’t I reflecting that it’s not a reprodutive organ?

“Wait, did I actually come as much as it felt like just now?”

“Yep. More, probably.”

“All that nectar. That’s why I’m still hard, too.”

Grind yum. “Do you still feel the like...Cheryl says nectar gives her a rush when she drinks a lot of it. Do you still feel the rush?”

It’s gotta be that, right?

“No, I just feel good. I definitely did, before, though.”

“Holy fuck, it did. I totally fixed you! That’s supposed to take days! I guess if you drink days worth of nectar, though...”

“Fixed me?”

That sounds...sexily ominous.

It’s likely, I realize, that my life starting from that moment in my bed onwards is probably now composed mainly of sexily ominous.

Grind and grind god I love how I can make your eyes do that, so tasty.

“Weeeelll, it’s kind of a waaaste having to stop fucking just because you came, isn’t it? Nectar turns you into you, and you’re a total sex fiend.”

“Wait, so can I not...”

It’s hard to talk and be fucked by a succubus, especially when you’re worried about something that might actually be a kind of awesome horrible fate depending entirely on the circumstances and constant availability of healing nectar.

“..not get...”

“No, relax, you can, you just have to want to now. Probably. Everyone’s different. There’ll still be like some kind of physical limit because blood flow or whatever, but your body’s not going to stop us just because a baby could’ve theoretically got made if there was a nectar-starved human femme around, not anymore.”

“You’re trolling me.”

Grind, oops.

“Not on purpose if I am. I mean, even nectar-starved most cock-owning humans can do what you’re doing right now at least some of the time if they don’t have funny ideas about how sex is supposed to work. But all that nectar, it felt like you were gonna drink me up, I’ll bet anything it fixed you all at once.”

I want to thrust, slow, just for the feeling of it, but I can feel a bit leak whenever she grinds too much.

“If you’re right, we’re never going to do anything ever but have sex.”

“Oh. No. What a terrible. Fate. Just make sure you tie me up for some of it.”

“Heh. I can’t wait until we can really try this out.”

Twelve minutes, probably much less by now, and we’re only two major issues deep. Better push another on the stack.

“So am I going to have to carry you out the door? Can you...holy fuck.” And I’m lost for a moment, my face all smirk.

“What?”

“Don’t go...snrk...sorry...don’t go swimming for an hour after you eat. You know.”

Nnnnff, okay Master shaking with giggles inside me is hot, even if it does make me leak.

“Humf!” I will not giggle. I will not.

Dammit.

Something has changed in my biology - I can feel her laugh in her pussy where it grips me and normally being this hard it should feel like it’s pushing me toward orgasm, but it’s been only minutes since my last and it’s as if, hard as I am, that part just...isn’t ready at the moment. It will be, but for now I get a different, less urgent pleasure.

“Seriously, though.”

“I’m not, like, paralyzed, I just can’t move without leaking. Mrf.”

My cheeks are warm because I’m glowing, right? Definitely not blushing, nope, nosiree.

“Just gimme...” Yech. Okay, okay.

“I need a ges to transubstantiate some of this and then I can drink what you’re keeping in my cunt and we’ll be good. I feel like I could take over for one of those Titans upstairs rowing right now.”

“Alright, alright. I suppose you are literally glowing.”

She regards her cleavage where it shines on my chest, the only part she can get a good look at other than her hands which stay pleasantly planted on my ass, keeping me in her.

“Anyway I’m sorry we missed performing for the captain aaaand I can’t believe I just said that.”

I balance on one hand for a moment so I can rub my face, embarrassed.

“So you wanna be somebody’s porn once in a while, what’s wrong with that? I like to to show off, surprise surprise. She’s nice but it’s hardly like she’s gonna be our last interested audience.”

Glug...mmf, just cock now, so nice and hard, grind.

Hehe, that surprised you, didn’t it? I love it when you don’t have time to hide your pleasure before it gets you.

I just manage to master the end of the gasp her motion draws out of me.

“...whoah. Did your pussy just lick me?”

“I swallowed, I think you felt the cum getting sucked up. I know I did...” Grin.

Oh my fuck your face right now...

“I think I can get up now. Please don’t make me move fast.”

“Just for the record, I could totally stay like this for the rest of time.”

“I know. So could I, Master. Soon we can, if we want.”

Well. Or now. I don’t think captain would actually mind having a new art installation.

But I miss my friennnnds ooh.

Pulling myself out of her while hard, even without the need to come, is a mental effort, and my hands are still slick with nectar, making it hard to—

“OOF!”

Oww. Master is heavy.

“Fuck, sorry, are you okay?”

Get up. I’ve slipped with all four limbs, collapsing onto Lyra, knocking the breath out of her and splashing us in the puddle of nectar we’ve made. It probably doesn’t help that every cubic centimeter of me is still burning with the rush of the orgasm, the hormones running so high my body feels somehow unfamiliar, testosterone overdose making me think I’ve been granted inhuman strength or something.

“Owie.”

Wait, holy fuck, how much did I...lemme up, I’ve gotta see this.

She shifts under me, trying to rise, so I roll off, careful not to try and actually get up this time. Lying on my back, looking out over the other ‘floor’ of the bridge perpendicular to ours, gives a strange sense of being pinned to the wall like a piece of art as I’ve just done with Lyra and the pentagram.

“No, wait, don’t try to...”

Okay, now just carefully sit up and then get to my knees and I can fuck fuck eep OW. Ow why can’t Rocks be soft.

Fine then, sitting up, how much did we...oh my fuck.

Omigod blush. “Holy fuck, I thought my wings felt soggy.”

“We made quite the mess, huh. How was all this inside you? Are you okay?”

We’re sitting in the middle of a puddle of nectar that fills most of our ‘floor’. I had thought Lyra’s scent was overwhelming me because we’d just had sex and my face was in her hair, but no, it’s filling the bridge.

“I’m fine. I had a lot of cum to work with. I...”

Oooooh fuck me. Master.

What the...how? That should take days at least, how could...oh. I had a lot of cum, so much cum. Days worth, and I made days worth of nectar. Fuck me.

“Are dismissals always this intense?”

But I only had all that come because the nectar turned into it inside me, that couldn’t...duh. Conservation of mass is just conservation of energy with really big numbers, and once you’ve broken math itself, who cares how many zeroes don’t add up?

“Not usually, but every once in a while you get something that...yeah.”

That leaves your Master’s suddenly superhot body totally soaking in your sweat-reactive nectar, head to toe. Um...

The mental calculation is unstoppable, inevitable and involuntary as the orgasm that made it relevant.

The puddle is, what, a couple of gallons? Work from a litre and assume the specific gravity of water because I know that there’s ten petajoules in a kilogram of antimatter thank you too much scifi. Ten petajoules worth of nectar, over a period of...call it ten minutes ish, no idea how long we actually were coming for but it could have been. Make that five hundred seconds because I don’t have a calculator and divide joules by seconds, gives 2*10^14 W. Two hundred terawatts.

So, a good lower bound on the power of love is about fifteen hundred simultaneous Apollo launches or, about twelve times the current peak power output of human civilization on Earth.

I did not just figure that out.

Also it’s probably a lot more, I drank much more than spilled and we’re not accounting for however much cum was generated...

Lyra’s looking at me, an echo of the desperate hunger from when I was tormenting her before on her face. Again? I won’t complain.

“What?”

Oh.

“Noooo that’s so mean!”

“Who says I’m being mean? Come have a lick before we go.”

Anyway, that will let me stall a little before I embarass myself trying to stand up again.

I’ve been stroking my cock, curious about the new sensations it’s capable of, making sure to let the nectar that still covers it string out a bit between my fingers and my tip once I remember what it will do to Lyra. Belatedly, I realize the captain might be looking on, and narrowly avoid getting tangled in that emotional morass instead of playing with Lyra.

Let her look, I’ll keep my eyes on the demon in front of me.

“I...I don’t know if I can stop once I start. I couldn’t before.”

“Wasn’t that the dismissal? It let me make you horny, I think.”

“No, I mean your hand on the raft.”

“You didn’t dive for my cock when you were done.”

“You had a pretty good distraction for me.”

“Are you likely to get to lick up this much again anytime soon?”

“No...”

“Are you hiding super strength or something? Will I be able to pull you off if I need to?”

“No, you’re officially stronger, I was fighting with everything I have back there and I couldn’t get your hands where I wanted, and I suppose I do kinda go all gooey when you grab my neck like you do...”

“Then get licking, you know you want to.”

You did not just...fuck. Well, guess I have to, now. Yum...

Her tongue is warm soft heaven on my shaft, soothing, making the peaceful place that happens after an orgasm into something comfortingly sexual, and then gloriously fearful: I’m accustomed to the end of an orgasm meaning slamming konachan or tumblr closed and retreating guiltily into sleep, diving desperately into that place of nonsexual satedness, my lust quieted for another night, and that is...not how I work anymore. Nectar turns you into yourself, and what am I, really? It’s not a lack of desire to keep looking for a bit that makes me killnine my browser as soon as I’ve got fingers clean enough.

I stripped her bare, just now, peeled away all the governers and self-control that hold the supernova of lust at the center of her demon soul in check, but she’s been returning the favor, doing something just as momentous and much more permanent to me, revealing something not that different in the depths of my soul, and I have to convince myself it’s the red lighting irritating my eyes as I blink the tears out of them realizing that as I stand naked in the path of that terrible want it just feels like finding a long missing piece of myself, something that should have always been there slotting into place and bringing me to life like some vital organ I’ve been missing all my life.

My body reflects it now and makes it unavoidable, but the truth is I would still have been this without a drop of nectar. This me, the lustful, sex-obsessed one whose existence I’ve fought so hard, is the one Lyra loves best. Everything about her is built around drawing it out of me.

“...mmf...aw...love you, too...”

“Huh?”

She’s totally relaxed, tail limp between her legs and curled lazily around my ankle, wings spread over my legs like starry blankets. The angle makes it hard to see, but they seem to glow brighter than the rest of her and if she weren’t looking so comfortable I’d ask...order her to raise them while she plays.

“...tastes all...you’re so...happy...aw...mmm...”

You can pet my head but first we’re going to find out if there’s any nectar on the hand you’re reaching for me with aaand that’s a yes, slurp. Sheesh, you like this almost as much as having your cock licked. Slutty humans, gotta love ‘em. Slutty Master, even better.

Now, back to licking and petting, so nice...purr...

WHAT.

“Did you just purr?”

I’ve been petting her head, lost in the (admittedly a bit tangly at the moment) softness of my hand in her hair, stroking her as she licks me clean, but now she’s looking up with wide, embarrassed eyes, one hand to her mouth.

It was a real, actual purr from deep inside her body, not just an affectionate sound made with her mouth (her tongue being clearly occupied).

“I...I dunno...I...that’s new...I just...you taste good and the nectar tastes good and I feel so peaceful and you’re all loved and it’s making your energy so soothing and...mrr...”

Dammit there’s still ALL OF THIS NECTAR like half a hand from my face, I’m trying to be horrified here.

Lyra’s glancing between my face and my cock, indecisive between humiliation and lust (hunger?), when there’s a polite cough above us, and I look up to see one empty circle and two solid ones, bright red light floating in space above the captain’s head.

The message is simple enough: Two ges left, hurry up.

Movie style holography, opaque images projected on thin air, only slightly more possible than artificial gravity or ignoring thermodynamics. The smallest things, in any other circumstance, I’d spend hours investigating.

Huh?

But, nectar.

Oh. Tick tock. He’s an illusionist? Or can you get that red with porting ink? It’d be tricky making it float like that, but maybe that’s their PA system. Bet I could figure it out if I could read his...panels...dammit nectar that smells so....nmmmf...oh man balls can hold so much nectar in all these folds, must lick them all...

That’s one of those meaningful head-pets. What. Oh. Time. Argh. Just one more...okay, fine, fine. You know, I might be less naughty if getting manhandled wasn’t so much fun.

Okay, officially figuring out ways to make you look at me like that more. Neep.

I have her by one horn, held just out of reach of my cock where we’d both prefer her to be, but it’s time to go.

“Do I have to tie you up?”

Not that this would actually annoy me.

“You don’t have anything to tie me with.”

Pokity poke come on do something interesting if I’m not going to get any more nectar.

“Oh no?”

The sword’s strap: ornate with buckles, five of them. Four segments, and the part attached to the scabbard. I can count, and I can do geomtry: each segment is just about the right length.

I pull at one buckle, pointedly.

You did figure it out. When did you figure it out? Not that there was a chance to use ‘em before the raft.

But first I have to actually get up, which means letting Lyra go temporarily.

“Be good.”

“Yes Master.”

Lyra watches, tail lashing (the shaft is dark, but the barb glows with a dense constellation that zips around the dark bridge like a demented fairy), from where she lays on her stomach, as I very carefully climb to my feet, and then lets me pull her up to where I face her away from me, drawing her arms back behind her so I can cross her wrists just above the base of her tail, which I grab...

Oh my fuck.

...and loop around her wrists where they cross, pulling it back under itself in a sort of desultory knot, making sure the barb gets a lot of attention as I push it through. It’s not going to hold as real bondage, especially since her tail is probably animate enough to just unloop itself, but the giggling look on her face as she peers over her shoulder at me is worth it.

“Does that hurt?”

“Hehe...no, it can bend around pretty good.”

Oh my fuck I can’t belive...hehe...I’d ask for some upper arm support but you’re just gonna have to undo it in a couple of swings anyway.

I grab the extra few inches, keeping her from unlooping.

“Good. Spread your wings.”

Look back to give you a nice slutty smile.

“...rather spread my legs, Master.”

Best lines. Do you do these on purpose? I mean, seriously.

“Oh, you will. Wings.”

Okay, okay...whoah.

Spinning her around to tie her up has us both facing the window, and she gasps at her reflection in the unglass as she turns - in the red darkness, only her stars reflect, picking out her form like an actual constellation, and then her body fades into view just at the edge of sight as her wings open with brilliant purple nebulae in the background of their constellations, illuminating us both. One of her arms struggles, distantly: her wide-eyed expression, outlined in stars in the glass, isn’t complete without a nail bitten in awkward wonder.

“You are so beautiful.”

Aw. “Thanks, Master.”

Oh my...I’m...wow. Maybe this power isn’t so cheesy after all.

«I thought I’d come see you out...»

GAH Sade’s Balls woman get some heels or something so people can hear you walk!

«Sorry, did I interrupt a—Sade’s Tits, what’d you do to him? I thought his ass just looked nicer when he’s fucking!»

«No fair, I still haven’t seen it! We got a dismissal that...well, sorry, about the mess. But he drank more than spilled.»

«So I see...you’re looking pretty good too. New power?»

«Yeah...just found it.»

«It’s beautiful. Ready to go? I’d rather have you both stay around and pretty up my bridge, but I’m not going this far out of my way and then missing your dropoff. And forget the mess, the rocks needed a bath, and your scent is amazing. My pet can barely see straight for it, I don’t think he’ll mind cleaning up after you.»

I...mrf. Glowing, not blushing. Definitely just really glowing lots just most especially on my face and cunt...fuck. I so was not gonna think about that, don’t think about that, there’s no way, we’re not even inside yet that’s going to take months to work out fucking fuck...

Lyra’s still rapt, checking out her reflection. I can’t blame her for talking to the captain without looking away.

“Time to go?” I can just make out the reflection of the captain’s silhouette coming up behind us, lit with Lyra’s light, still bare, then she’s standing between us and the window, off to one side, hand on a hip.

I let Lyra’s tail free. Something about the interaction feels like the captain has walked up on us actively having sex and there’s a weird thrill in this as I let go: it would have been more fun to keep her bound as we socialized, but I’ve reflexively stopped.

“...yeah...”

Okay, other topic. Other things are sexy too. Overcharge, dark room, mirrored headboard, cowgirl. Cowgirl in those glowing restraints Ozzie has, hands bound in front so we can both see.

Come on, mirrored headboard, you can do it, Hall.

Mirrored headboard and then that one diamond pentagram in the middle of the Obsidian Ballroom, in the middle of an eclipse...dammit! Nrg!

Free hands? Oh. Yeah, coming.

“That was more than ‘time to go’.”

“She says we look superhot. And um...I smell good.”

Mrf.

Grabbing my arms again, what are you...oh fuck, you really mean this, whatever you’re doing. Arms behind me, yes Master, god damn that grip is like one of the statues holding onto me, okay I’m not going anywhere now. Unf.

“Tell her to have a good look before we go, then.”

But I thought...okay, yes Master...

I would think that Lyra’s body language in my hands turns just a hair bashful as she translates, but that would require there to be a shred of modesty in anywhere in her.

In response, the captain drags her eyes over Lyra’s form (not that she’s been keeping them off other than to make eye contact while talking, but this is a real and properly pointed ogle), licking her lips lustfully, the hand that was on her hip drifting to brush her mound...

Snifsnif...definitely overlord, definitely a really wicked sadist. Heh, I bet you and Master could really...dammit, will not...could really have some fun with me between the two of you.

“I think she wants to...”

I nod, at the captain, who pegs her eyes on Lyra’s breasts and takes an outer lip between thoughtful fingers and then, just as the part of me that scrambles for ctrl+c as I realize I’ve written and launched a program that will hard-crash my machine by doing something terrible with graphics drivers parses what I said and the fact that Lyra will have translated it faithfully, takes me - what she can see of me, standing behind Lyra - in just as lustfully, hand still on her cunt.

I can feel like meat, the main problem with which is that it’s uncomfortably pleasant for some reason, or I can return the captain’s stare and get distracted by the sleekness of her form and the way her shaved- or waxed- or most likely magicked-bare mound catches Lyra’s purple glow where her hand presses on it.

I’m not about to do this.

I am so about to do this.

Do I have hold of Lyra? Yes, she’s not going anywhere, however she struggles.

Is it safe? No STDs here, I’ve seen Lyra heal mortal wounds in minutes, the captain strikes me as...civilized, just for a very different value of civilization than I’m used to - if nothing else, she’s openly lusting after my lover without making me feel the least bit threatened.

And Lyra did say straight out what she thinks, on the way in here.

And I want to do this, and the seed-ghost will have surely noticed I’d do something like this if given the chance, and that lights up an entire inner landscape I could otherwise never see, things half-buried and barely formed, things not yet understood, delusions of normalcy illuminated by the purple glow of Lyra’s impending meteor strike. In another life I might manage decades of denial, but the seed-ghost saw right through me and left Lyra with the knowledge. She’s understood since...the beginning, probably. Since that moment in my room. She’s been telling me the whole way, we even used it to steal a car.

And that means...what? That she’ll like this? That she won’t? It means that she’ll be able to take it, because she was made for this.

I said to myself that I was a monster, before, but the truth is that I’ve still been clinging to a last shred of humanity, imagining that our relationship is somehow merely an advanced case of marriage, of ‘honor and obey’ taken just a little past the moral event horizon, but it’s not, because advanced cases of marriage don’t include my pulling Lyra backward into me so that my thigh forces her legs open and thrusts out her hips, and nodding offeringly at the captain.

“Tell her she can have a taste of you if she wants.”

Human or not, Lyra’s not my girlfriend, or my wife, or anything like that. She’s just...mine.

And I’m proud of her, and want to show off.

Wait, what? Woo! I thought...but...seriously? You’re going to share me with literally the first person we’ve met here? Okay...I mean she is pretty...I just didn’t think...fuck, how do I word it? Fucking fuck word for taste what’s the word for taste!

Fuck, I don’t understand this, we’re Hollow Hearts, how can we...oh. Oh. Oh my god, I actually found you. That missing piece thing isn’t a metaphor. I found you and now we can...

Oh my fuck, Master...

Lyra’s hesitating, but the captain gets the message without words, and steps closer, making an unmistakable two-fingered gesture with a questioning expression: you’re offering a touch?

I nod.

If something is yours, you can decide who may use it, and how. Lyra is a person, not a thing, but she is mine, and something tears inside me, some limit letting go, as I shift my grip to arch her back and present her hips more, like I’m literally seeing her differently, brighter or more vivid somehow.

She looks back at me, and we lock eyes for a moment...

Boo, not the hand with the rings? Now I really have to get Master some rings like that...

You look...oh my god, I can see you getting it, I can see you seeing it. I so totally thought the dilating pupils thing was just in porn! You see and you really believe it and this is going to get interesting, isn’t it.

And I can taste you getting it....oh god yes I’m yours I’m yours to share I hope I make you proud just keep on getting it holy fuck I need this lust I’ll do anything to make you feel this way.

I’m yours, what’re you going to do with me?

Sniff. Mmm, the captain smells good, not just her lust, she...ooh, mm, girl fingers are so soft between my lips, oh my god, she’s goooooood, fuck this makes me wet...well, wetter...

...and then hers narrow in pleasure at the captain’s touch and she takes on a breathless look with just-parted lips that’s lustful, or loving, or fearful, or all three.

I’m a monster. The wires of love and ownership are crossed inside me. I can’t do one without the other coming along, but the power they carry somehow multiplies when combined. Be mine, and I’ll love you with a passion that casts shadows on the surface of the sun. The only price is, you really have to belong to me. I have to look at you and see something that’s my responsibility to care for, and mine to do with as I please.

I keep Lyra’s gaze for a moment, watching her eyes as the captain fingers her. Such beautiful eyes.

“Look at her while she enjoys you.”

Holy fuck okay there I hope you don’t mind a sub looking you in the eye while you play with her captain oh that little smile I guess not but...nnh...boo. Don’t you wanna play some more?

Oh. Fingers in her mouth, those are the fingers that were just in me, and she’s loving the taste to look at that expression, mrf, don’t lick your lips at me when we’re standing in a puddle of my nectar, I’m already...mrf...

Oh my fuck, Master’s lust, and captain’s lust, and Master’s strong hands, and captain’s skills, oh my fuck this is amazing I can be a little embarrassed for this.

She likes. Are you proud of me, Master?

«Mmm, I can see how you ended up with a wellspring dismissal. Tell him you taste even better than you smell.»

I...

The way the captain licks her fingers and then smirks at Lyra tells me my generosity is definitely appreciated.

“What’s she say?”

Translation. Um...mrf...

But the captain’s already jerking her head in the universal let’s-go gesture and walking off, so I let Lyra free and give her a pat on the ass to set her moving.

“More show, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching you walk.”

“Yes Master.”

I’ll know I’ll never get tired of you watching, I can taste that from here.

She takes a step, but feeling some need to connect I think better of it and grab her upper arm, twisting her around to face me with hazy, lustful eyes, an expression I can’t help but kiss softly on the lips.

“You make me proud.”

She still doesn’t say anything, but the fanged nakedness of her smile in response is better than any words that could ever be spoken.

I...aw...I love you too, Master.

The captain’s stopped, looking at us with a raised eyebrow. Yes, fine, coming, just busy checking on the girl I just let you finger, sheesh.

“Alright, off you go.”

But I don’t follow, because Lyra walking away from this doesn’t seem quite right, and I have an idea.

If how I’m feeling about her right now doesn’t count as Taking Hold, I don’t think anything does. I let her and the captain get a few steps further, then turn to the window, raising my hand.

By the elements, by the gods, by the bond that makes you mine, Lyra I summon you—

Whoof what—oooh. Ooh, you’ve got the putting lust into a summoning thing, hell yes, I thought those others turned me on.

Okay, I can be bound. Mmm...

I can catch a glimpse, in the reflection beside my hand around Lyra’s neck again, of the captain standing watching us with folded arms and an impatient expression, but ignore her. This won’t be but a moment.

Oooh yes please hello Master I love you Master

And I wanted to spend a moment, just a moment, watching her face as I slip my fingers between her helpless thighs and into her wet, slippery cunt.

Would that there was time for a dismissal, but no. Instead I just put my hands on her waist and pull, willing the binding I’ve created to just break, and it does with an almost physical snapping, pulled apart by my wish to be the thing holding her helpless, and she wraps around me, clinging, head laid on my shoulder.

My reflection is strange and unfamiliar in Lyra’s purple glow, something different in my face, what musculature I have made to look almost sculpted by the light’s angle with Lyra so close to me...

I set Lyra, carefully, on her feet, and she stands, looking at me with muzzy curiosity.

“Open your wings. Light me up.”

I need better lighting, because I’m pretty sure the person reflected in front of the looming Falls isn’t me.

“Yes Master.”

My muscles burned. My body feels unfamiliar, too strong. Lyra and the captain are both looking at me in a way they didn’t before. I reach a hand toward the window, and the reflected stranger reaches back, mirroring me perfectly.

“Is this real?”

“D-” Oh. Can’t talk and bite my thumb at the same time. Please like it Master. Please like what I did to you. I couldn’t control it, you took...

“Do you like it? You like it, right?”

It’s not an answer to the question I asked, but I don’t need one, because I can look down at myself, and see the accuracy of the reflection.

My skinny-teenager body has filled out to a sort of taut solidity. Muscles that were before overstrained wires or untoned bands have become thick cables, hard as steel when I tense them and run my hand over what I had taken before as a trick of the strange lighting. Bad guestimation tells me I’ve gained at least a hundred pounds, which - not even accounting for however much come Lyra drank - adds enough zeroes to my previous calculation to take us well into Kardashev Type I: intelligent life manipulating energy equal to the total instantaneous solar absorption of an Earthlike planet.

I want to ask if Lyra likes the changes, but if I understand incubation I already know the answer and she is definitely looking at me with a sharper-edged hunger than usual.

My skin feels different as I touch it, in some undefinable way that I’d chalked up to being covered in nectar that seems not to ever dry or evaporate, more sensitive or softer or something.

Fuck, I haven’t even had a proper look at this.

I’ll tell you, I sure like it. I mean, I liked you before, but you’re all...solid now, like one of the statues or something. All strong with all the power under the surface so you don’t look gross. Just a nice little hint of abs and that beginning of a gut’s nowhere to be found, this is amazing.

And your face, your eyes were dark before but now they’re...eep...and you’ve already gained at least five years.

Hehe. That one’s gonna fuck with your head when you look close enough to see it. I can’t wait.

“Days worth of nectar.”

“More like months, I think. That was a completely insane dismissal. Viktor’s gonna freak.”

“Another friend?”

“Kinda. Person most impressed with my liturgical engineering skills.”

“Is this...will I keep changing?”

“I dunno, it’s just turning you into yourself, but yourself can change. Things might be a little interesting until you really understand who you are.”

...but what am I? Sexily ominous indeed. At least there’s no sign of tentacles.

Yet.

“Has this been...when you seemed so light on the raft, that was...”

“There’s not much to me but lungs and pussy, but I don’t weigh that much less than a human girl. It was already working on you then.”

But this has gone far beyond where I was on the raft. How strong am I now?

Well, there’s one good test of strength handy. Pulling Lyra to me by the wrists, I lift her into my arms with one hand under her ass and the other pulling her face-to-face with me and almost fall with the unexpected ease of it. She wasn’t kidding, now that I pay attention: there’s a sense of mass to her body that seems right for a creature of flesh and bone her size, but lifting that weight is almost effortless, and the only thing that makes shifting her so that she nestles cooingly against my side supported by one hand under her butt at all difficult is the triple unfamiliarity of the action itself, the strength and new dimensions of my body and limbs, and the need to work around her tail and wings. When we’re settled, her weight against me feels no heavier than a biggish laptop bag. I could carry her miles this way, and with this body walk megaparsecs.

And then more: she’s tricky to hold onto with both of us still being largely covered in nectar, but I can manage it easily by sheer brute force.

The captain says something in Infernal that from the tone has got to be “Okay, now seriously come on.", and so we head - carefully at first so we don’t slip, and then hurrying through the gravity change and up the stairs and back along the length of the ship.

This time I don’t make any effort not to watch the captain’s pretty ass as we walk.

Pro: carried by big strong megastuffie Master.

Con: can’t watch Master walk. At least I can kinda get a look at the captain...

“I taste even better than I smell.”

“I agree.”

When we crest (reach the bottom of? I understand now that this deck’s local ‘up’ faces the ship’s keel) the stairs, the tenor of the aftercare deck has changed since we were there: more people sleep, while the remainder seem somewhat more woken from whatever dream gripped them before, whispering together or packing interesting-looking toys or what I take for bondage gear into various containers.

“No, that’s what the captain was saying.”

«By the way, what’s the language you two speak? I swear I’ve heard it before.»

«English. It’s annoying, got all the usual lost-planet fails. I’m gonna teach him Infernal as soon as...»

That’s the inspired dom face. Why is she making the inspired dom face?

«You said his planet’s mononormative, too. Badly? Prescriptivism?»

Aaand that’s me caught checking out the captain’s ass by the captain. Mrf.

«Yeah, why?»

The captain hands me my towel again as we approach the stern-end of the deck, having plucked it from where it fell while I was distracted.

«And he’s your incubator, right?»

«I damn well wouldn’t go hunting on a lost planet for anyone else.»

«Does the Hall show up in their afterlife mythology?»

«Kinda, you know how it goes.»

«Very. Okay, just curious. Anyway, this is it, good luck, you two. Dream dark, dream deep, dream bright.»

Huh? Oh, we’re stepping into the airlock again.

«Oh and, if the doorwardens seem to be waiting for anyone, it’s probably you. Bye!»

Wait, you did not just—

«I—he doesn’t—»

Clang.