I went off to collect Chrysta, finding her making a slow floating perimeter around this block for Saxwhacket.

I found my ghostly, icy beauty hovering a dozen feet above my garden, watching as an army of young ladies and Nakamamon combed through the greenery in search of fruit or nuts. The whole garden now looked, to any botanist, like Armageddon. I’m sure it was the same expression Ellie had looking at the plants inside the Jurassic Park visitor center. This one is poisonous… and so is this one. Except with my garden, this one was tropical, this one was sub-tropical, this one was deciduous, this one was from Asia, this one South America, this one Europe. The placement didn’t make sense either; I just hadn’t had time to organize things, but planted everything everywhere, and got to watering.

Chrysta appeared dubious as she listened to my proposal. Sure, circumstances weren’t perfect; she hadn’t been able to do anything like this in a long, long time.

“You have a task to complete,” she said. “Are you certain this is the best use of your time?”

“Remember how this discussion went last time?” I asked.

Her cheeks glowed with a light blue that I recognized as a blush. Last time, she had tried telling me what to do, and that had failed pretty spectacularly.

I knew what I was doing, in either case. As I leveled up in Healer, I could level each of my skills twice, but I was typically getting 12 skill points. Enough to push six skills up two times each. Healers, though, had a truly ludicrous amount of skills. I hadn’t asked Alan how things went differently for Wizards, but figured it was probably infinitely complicated for him too. Limited skill point gains meant pushing my progression as a Healer back, slowing it to a glacial crawl.

But if I leveled in Pleasure Seeker at the same time, I could stack skill points from my second class into my Healer class. And that meant the more I could seek pleasure, the more effectively I could heal.

I was also having quite a lot of YOLO coursing through my mind presently. If Buttercup continued taking my friends and lovers at the behest of Claudius, I wanted good last memories of them. On the assumption that I would be getting access to them again, of course.

I refused to entertain the idea that any of my ladies was going to end up dead.

Chrysta eventually capitulated. We set Ivy and Isabelle to the task of security, but Chrysta informed me that a number of Nakamamon from Saxwhacket were already on the security services. We had a web of informants and young’uns to sound the alarm in the event a wave of humans showed up.

“Good,” I told her. “I think you’re going to like this.” I gave her hand a squeeze. “Are you ready?”

She cocked her head to the side in confusion, then nodded a small nod.

Just like with Fairy Poppins, I could channel Pheromones points into giving my partner proportions of truly ludicrous size. I could throw Length and Girth at the girls and give them man parts, which was weird enough, but I could also use Length and Girth to go up top. I could give my partners hyperboobs. Cinzy had thought that trick to be the funniest thing, until I sank all of my skill levels in there at once, and she ballooned out enough to rip one of her favorite shirts. She had literally toppled over, then burst into peals of laughter.

Instead of size, I could simply make my partner more adaptable to me. For an ice ghost, this meant bringing her to life. Literally giving her life.

Chrysta slowly lowered out of the air and settled onto two very visible feet. She was still a Nakamamon, so she still had odd, toeless feet and accents coming off her legs to make her look like she might possible be capable of flight, or made of snow, or possibly both.

My ice-and-temporarily-not-ghost Nakamamon stared down at her hands, which were no longer semi-transparent or infused with darkness. It was the type of expression that said she’d never seen them before.

Finally, the understanding penetrated her mind and she stared up at me in wonder. Then she leapt forward and into my arms.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I know this is only temporary, but it is a great relief to me.”

“With any luck, it’s going to get even better,” I said, and took her on a dragon ride using Draconic Spirit. The Tokens were easy to spend, considering the way she exclaimed in delight and shrieked joyfully when we took off.

Hugged tight to me, we took a tour of Saxwhacket. We did loops around the various blocks, flew alongside some Nakamamon, and exclaimed over the strange sights there were to behold here.

“I’m thrilled to have some alone time with you,” I told her, and kept my eyes open for what I’d found earlier.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Chrysta said, and nuzzled my neck. Well, my hardening cock was ready to protest, but I decided against making the remark. For now, we were simply enjoying the pure feel of freedom, the enjoyment that came from swooping this way and that, and the feel of her arms and legs wrapped tightly against my body.

“Would you like a walk through a park?” I asked. “A restaurant experience? Or would you like to meet fellow Niceicles?”

“What?”

We swooped down low toward buildings that looked like what would happen if an igloo and a Japanese fortress had a baby. Walking around the place were a number of creatures that looked a whole lot like Chrysta, save for her thin, somewhat skeletal frame.

“I… Fletcher, I don’t…” Latest content published on NovєlFіre.net

The people all lifted their hands in greeting. Several shot sprays of tiny snowflakes into the air, which immediately melted to become rainbows. Others shot snow out of their hands into various different shapes. Some were abstract versions of Niceicles with hands raised in welcome. Others created snow versions of other Nakamamon with welcoming expressions, or looking like they were ready to receive a hug.

Chrysta was called a Hauntcicle, but she’d once been a Nicecicle, one of the pleasant humanoid ice aspect Nakamamon. And, because Fletcher occasionally did his due diligence with emotionally traumatized partners, he approached these people during our hunt for the God of Doors. Their row of homes sat among a large block of cold aspect homes, where the people took turns infusing the place with cold aspect mana, and reinforcing their homes against the heat of non-winter months.

He then had a sit down with the people, all of them, and explained that he had a Hauntcicle who was feeling pretty bad both because she was a ghost aspect, and also because she was far from home with no one to speak to her. And of course, because ‘nice’ was literally in their name, they exclaimed that they would love to have a visit from one of the ancestors.

I kept my hand on the small of Chrysta’s back as we landed and the people swarmed around her to give her hugs, congratulate her on finding a bond mate Healer human, and thank her for doing the work of Guardian to keep the Healer safe.

Chrysta accepted all this with a dumbfounded good grace that I expected from her. It was like the first time I had touched her, and kissed her. She literally hadn’t conceived of this happening.

We stuck around, bathed in the adoration and goodwill of her fellow Niceicles. Chrysta was regaled with the travails of her former species, the Saxwhacket clan who had ventured out of the freezing mountains to seek out other companion Nakamamon. Never had they encountered a fellow Hauntcicle, nor had they ever considered they would encounter one outside of the haunted lands, the places that belonged to the dead.

They ended up asking her how she had come to be away from the haunted lands, but others among them cheerfully pointed out that the human had bonded her, and the Healer was her anchor outside of the dead and haunted places in the mountains where ghost aspects dwelt. Rather than correct them, Chrysta turned an indulgent look my way, the only show of emotion I’d seen on her face since making contact with her and kissing her.

Some hours passed, with Chrysta making friends and having some joyous nostalgia times with her people. Laughter was shared, tears periodically threatened, and a whole lot of anecdotes went down. Finally, she begged off, telling them that her Healer was freezing to death (I wasn’t) and that we should get going.

She turned and beamed at me as we made our way out of their row of houses. “Fletcher! As a ghost, I was literally condemned to haunt this place and steer clear of my kind. It is only because of you that I could meet up with more of my kind.”

I gave her my warmest smile. “You deserve to have more than just duty to the Divinity Rescue Corps, and occasional sexy times,” I told her.

“You must also know that my transformation into a Haunticle is a mysterious thing, shrouded in many unknowns for the Niceicles. What you have done gives the Niceicles hope and assurance of an afterlife, even if it is a lonely one. And now they have an idea of where their loved ones may end up after they have passed.”

“Oh. Well. That’s… good. I’m glad to be of service in that case.”

This prompted another hug, and a tearful one. I knew this because tiny hailstones dropped out of her eyes and onto my shoulders.

“You know,” she said quietly, “you already have two bond mates. If your capabilities increase, and you find yourself capable of having a third… it would be my pleasure to bond with you.”

Chrysta couldn’t know how my ability worked or that I already had the capacity to bond a third Nakamamon. I gave her yet another kindly smile and hugged her tight, feeling a swell of affection for the poor Guardian.

“Thank you for the offer,” I said. “I will see what can be done.”

She was kissing me, right there in the street. She had her hands on either side of my face and pressed her body against mine. I was hardening up, and she knew it. One hand slid down between us and caressed me, and she moaned into my mouth.

“It’s different now,” she breathed.

“What do you mean?”

“You… feel different to me. I can’t say I understand why. You are… lighter. I wish for you to feel good. Does this make sense?”

“Not in the least,” I said, never failing in my quest to keep smiling.

With that, I swept Chrysta into a wide arc and spun her around, then dipped her low like I was Fred Astaire and she was any of the women who danced with him in his many TV and movie appearances.

She laughed again, and I realized that in all the time we’d been together so far, she hadn’t ever laughed until she met other Niceicles. Until I made her alive and held her hand and spun her around.

“You’re silly!” she said. “My mission is to guard you, not to fall prey to your sexual advances.”

“I am not sorry in the least,” I told her, and kissed her again. I then danced her right down the street, while the Nakamamon chuckled or started dancing themselves, or began to make music to go along without dance scene.

So far, I had gained a whole lot of Relationship points with my lovely Guardian, and we’d done little more than kiss, dance, and nearly shed tears over her people.

“I want this,” she said, and pulled my hand so it was between her legs. The area was already hot to the touch, and her sex was in the process of emerging. Just like other Nakamamon, she could go around in the nude. Her body appeared something like clothes, and somewhat androgynous… until it didn’t. “You need to be inside me.”

Her eyes clouded over with that unmistakable look of lust, and she breathed on my neck.

“I want it quite badly,” she admitted.

I spotted a small door off to one side of a building, a forgotten place that probably stored heaps of broken things collected over decades, and made a beeline for it. The door was locked, but not for long. Chrysta seemed to get what I was doing, and wrenched it, snapping a very old, flimsy lock within. When I shut it and opened it again, it was to my storage room.

“This thing is the gift that keeps on giving,” I breathed, just before being pushed against the wall beside the door and kissed all over my face.

Chrysta was beautiful in a willowy and pure kind of way. She wasn’t sexy, but was instead lovely. Her body was thin and she was so light I could’ve thrown her twenty feet in the air. So when I picked her up, she looped her very solid legs around my waist and I held her without any trouble whatsoever.

“I need this,” she said in between kisses. “I need you to make me feel.” I thought she’d trailed off, and she wanted to say ‘feel wonderful’ or ‘feel like I deserve to feel’ or something like that.

Chrysta didn’t experience feelings like humans did. It was a ghost aspect thing. She responded only to the harshest of anger, responding in kind. Only now, all that had changed. She rubbed herself up against me with abandon, pulling my shirt up and not even bothering to get it off, before she rubbed herself up against my chest. The pants followed; she wrenched them down to my knees and ground herself against me before I had a chance to do or say a thing.

She was relentless too. Even as I pulled off my shirt she was bending to get her tongue on my skin.

“You taste,” she panted, “so good, Fletcher.”

She then knelt and licked up and down my stiffening shaft next. Holding my balls up for a good licking, she lavished them with attention before worshipping me with her mouth.

I let the fire inside her consume me for a time. She never stopped moving, caressing, touching. When she encountered my pants around my ankles, she slipped my shoes and socks off without missing a beat sucking me off. All this happened without stopping, without pause. Chrysta needed to be in intimate contact with me, and she made damn sure it was very intimate contact indeed.

Finally, with my clothes discarded, she could get her hands on my legs and feet, up over my hamstrings and over my butt. I hadn’t had my butt squeezed like this before, but Chrysta used it to force herself further down my length, until her face was pressed tight against my abs. I felt like her throat was a fist, grabbing me tightly. The ice Nakamamon choked herself, lashed the underside with her tongue, and forced tears to come to her eyes. Only then did she back off.

“Are you nearly at your climax?” she asked.

“I thought you could join me in climaxing together.”

“Ohhh I would like that very much, Fletcher, but I owe you a sliver of the joy you have given me just now, and one orgasm will not suffice.” She dove back down and forced all of me into her mouth, eyes tightly closed and leaking one tiny ice cube tear.

It was so wrong that I let go of the control I’d been holding. Warning her I was going to cum didn’t make any difference; she kept right on sucking and licking at me, only to start repeatedly swallowing time and again.

Wiping her mouth and getting to her feet, Chrysta (who was almost as tall as me) gave me a warm and weary smile. She’d worked hard, after all. “I am glad the taste is to my liking,” she said.

“That makes two of us,” I replied, and when she led me over to the bed and got on all fours, I knew just what to do.

I made sweet love to her for the next hour, slowly finding the pace she liked, the angles she liked, and the depth she liked. I liked all of it, especially the part where she slowly built up to loud and clenching orgasms, where she flopped around on the bed for some twenty or thirty seconds. Now that she was no longer a ghost, temporarily anyway, her body was much warmer and wetter, and I kept my head about me. We exchanged cool kisses, while frost grew around the room and crunched every so often with the rocking of the bed.

And then there was the part where I pulled her to me, got my arms under her legs, and lifted her bodily off the bed.

“Oh!” She cried out. She was delicate and tiny, and so easy to lift, I could sex her just like this without breaking a sweat.

Next, I pushed her up against the wall and got up in her deep. She could barely handle it, up on her tiptoes, and when I really went hard, her feet came off the ground all together.

“I’m going to…”

“Yes,” she hissed. “Do it.”

“Inside?” She knew all about my Fertility skill by now.

“I’m a ghost,” she grunted. “I can’t have eggs.”

With final spastic thrusts, holding her hips down, I poured all I had up into her womb.

“I can feel it,” she muttered. “There is… so much.” Her eyes glazed over and rolled back in her head, and she shuddered with a tiny orgasm.

This is Christopher wondering if he’s going to sire a ghost.