CHAPTER 23: CHAPTER 23: PLAYFUL CAMARADERIE PART 3.

Triangular barriers are erected by the Unholy Doll, covering the bodies of the 3 challenged youngsters.

Doubtless, N’Ïrk strips naked, the costume package says «Lifeguard», picturing a muscular man wearing bright orange shorts, a small but long white towel is hanging from his waist, sunglasses on his head, a whistle attached to a strap around his neck, placidly resting on top of a white shirt.

Or at least that’s the supposed content. But reality is very disappointing.

"This weird Uniform is incomplete". Warns N’Ïrk. Indayra ignores the comment, and urges the other two ladies. "Ready, Pushovers?".

"Not yet!, and don’t call me that!". Screams Vluk’Shïan, having difficulties with the garter belt of her outfit.

"Almost!". Blurts Evennette, going out of her mental fantasy, refocusing partially after sighting the slumbered manhood between N’Ïrk’s legs.

{He has a Titanoboa down there!}. A strong trepidation courses through her spine, spiking curiosity and a bit of fear in her senses. Touching herself above her clit, trailing her index to guess how deep could go N’Ïrk. {For sure he fills my womb!}.

Gulping a mouthful of saliva along her dim doubts. Evennette dares to do a slight adjustment to her «Lifeguard» costume.

Indayra doesn’t wait longer, dispelling the first barriers. N’Ïrk is only wearing a red speedo and his gauntlets.

"What are you wearing?!".

"What you gave me, Porcelain Nun. This is all that came in the package". He shows a plastic polymer clothe, barely larger than a handkerchief, but thicker than a rug.

Indayra’s eyes ogle in disbelief around the man, searching for more accessories without success.

The wandering comes across N’Ïrk’s toned legs, causing Indayra to flush profusely with the notorious bulge protruding from the man’s groin.

"Can’t you control yourself a bit, N’Ïrk?!. You compared me to a Snow Owl Bear, and the beast here is not other than you!".

"I state the fact myself, Porcelain Nun. But if you keep swaying your tits so much. They are going to pop up, and i may get in the mood to break a Doll".

The proclamation provokes a disturbance in the damsel’s control. The third group of barriers lose cohesion, vanishing in a colourful wisp of variable lights.

"I told you i wasn’t ready!". Vluk’Shïan exclaims furious. Her gaze is aggressive, yet, she is mellowing after sighting N’Ïrk’s nigh naked silhouette.

The Lemon Vixen is damped, her sex crying fluids, craving for attention, and taking away the strength of her thighs.

With jelly like legs, she falls forward to the ground, her knees landing first, a ripple shocks her body, squirming in pleasure without taking her blue eyes from N’Ïrk’s predatorial gaze.

Vluk’Shïan mistakenly thought her interest on the young man was about the training. The truth is quite distinct.

Opposite to the Negative Imprinting in the Tarzöns. The Orchqüim fall in love and Imprint a Mate on their mind.

If the feelings are not reciprocated or attended by the Mates. The Mares become nymphomaniacs when they turn 25 years of age, trying to fill the emotional void through drowning themselves in sexual pleasure.

Nevertheless. Just like the Tarzöns. The Orchqüim are ignorant of their Biological needs, depending on instincts or half assessed wisdom to cope up with their natural development.

"The Lemon Vixen appearance and acting are top notch". Estimates Indayra. N’Ïrk just nods. His muscles harshly tensed to be locked in place and not jump at Vluk’Shïan.

Evennette whispers to herself. "She looks like the abused Maiden working under a Lecherous Lord".

"What did you say?!". Screams Indayra, fear creeping up in her voice, the connotation is severe, and for once, she doesn’t want to cut ties after having fun and starting to have a bond with people she can somehow call friends, not just future classmates.

But if Evennette can see through her blurry barriers. N’Ïrk and Vluk’Shïan could do the same. Perhaps Niveilia knows her secret too.

But no one mentioned anything. {They didn’t care?. Or they don’t mind?}

Still, panic and rage takes a good hold on Indayra’s feelings. "Since when you know, Evennette?". Demands the Frosted Witch, the barriers crumbling like shattered glass.

The damsel is clad in a cherry red harness swimsuit, though the fabric is basically absent, barely covering her moistened pussy but letting free her huge breasts and stiff nipples.

"Indayra. Look, i...".

"Answer me". The tone is cold and detached, but stung Evennette, harder than receiving a hit with a whip.

"I just started doing it during the food".

Indayra takes her mask off, showing her scar and burned mouth when Niveilia enters the Common Room.

"Did someone say food?. Because i am bringing the first round of Creampies~...".

The cheerful melodious voice of the smiling Busty Lady trails off.

Indayra gets coy. She was mad, but ripping off Niveilia’s innocence from the damsel’s naive expression, is just too much to handle.

The Busty Lady leaves the tray on the nearby furniture. Her gentle face becoming enraged.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?".

*Eh?*. The question surprises everyone, especially when Niveilia points to the sofa. "Sit down!".

The command is determined and firm. Not leaving space to doubts or personal interpretation from Indayra.

"I’m in charge of the Deck. I said that, and i mean it!". Niveilia breaths slowly and calms slightly. "This includes the health of those who live here. I may not know how to fight, and i am terrified of harm others".

She shrugs, shaking her head and straighting her back. "But I can make all of you to endure for longer. So you can fight on my behalf. You’re not the only one who can put up barriers, Indayra. But i am the only one of us with the ability to restore our bodies".

{Restore?. Not Heal?}

"This is for everyone. Tell me if something is hurting you, i will deal with it. But don’t ever occult an injury from me!. I don’t want to lose a friend i could have saved".

Niveilia hesitates slightly her hand glowing with a crystalline coral shade, more vibrant than the tonality of her hair. The tender light leaving her hand is tranquil and steady, making N’Ïrk wonder if maternal love feels like that.

The coral shade is constant, removing the gruesome burn on Indayra’s chin and lower cheeks, like an eraser would lift away the graphite of a pencil...