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Dark Lord in Chains 53
🕑 Added 2021-11-13 06:12:27 +0000 UTCWatching Emma walk away with a determined gait, it was easier than I expected to come to a decision. Why should I bother trying to decipher her notes or go through all that effort to follow her, when I could just as easily interrogate her directly?
Not to mention, such directness came with one very important benefit. The interrogation didn’t need to be a bland, boring affair.
Still wrapped in shadows, I walked quickly toward the library door, intent on cutting Emma’s path, even as I shed my disguise. Emma was just impulsive enough to react explosively to a mysterious trader that accosted in the royal library, before I could give an explanation about my presence.
The dark lord that she was under the impression of freeing due to her spectacular mistake deserved a different reaction.
I waited until she was about to open the library door and leave before speaking, letting the shadows that wrapped around me fall at the same time. “What a nice coincidence to see you here, sweetie,” I said in a cheerful voice.
The way she turned toward my voice was enchanting. Her body flipped, coiled like a spring, ready to explode. The form of that explosion was never in doubt, her fingers already laced with an ethereal fire, ready to trigger a storm, the bright flash of light illuminating her beautiful face.
However, as beautiful as her aggressive stance was, the way her flames flickered and died, her beautiful face contorted in shock the moment she realized who she had been talking to. “W-what are you doing here?” she gasped in shock.
“Nothing much. I decided to go for a midnight walk, to stretch my legs. You know, enjoying my freedom,” I said mockingly, reminding her of the supposed role she had on my freedom indirectly. “How about you?”
“J-just some magic research,” she said, her beautiful green eyes doing their best to avoid my gaze. I smirked before turning my back and walked toward the nearest desk, explicitly avoiding giving any sort of order, or indicating for her to follow me. A small test of obedience.
It worked excellently, with her footsteps gently tapping on the floor. I sat on the chair, and just as she was about to pull one for herself, I tapped on the desk. Frustration flared on her face for a moment, but only for a moment. It died the next second, replaced by resignation.
Our earlier obedience training still had some hold over her, it seemed.
I said nothing, just leaning back, waiting for her to speak, applying one of the most underappreciated interrogation tactics. It wouldn’t have been too effective against a composed target, but Emma, caught in the middle of a sneaky activity, facing against the dark lord she helped to capture, and helped to free, was the farthest thing from being composed.
“I’m trying to develop a new spell, and trying to get some inspiration from ancient records,” she said a second later, latching the easiest explanation. She was clearly not doing the research for herself, but it was the interesting thing about lying. Trying to conceal the wrong thing could easily backfire.
“Oh, really, what kind of ancient records?” I asked.
She jumped at the opportunity to get away from the instigator of her visit, and started explaining. Amateur mistake, I thought humorously, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t listening to her explanation with rapt attention. She started explaining, and a few pointed questions were enough to delve deeper into the information she collected.
And the information she collected was interesting, far more relevant to my current plight. The first few magical information she provided seemed unrelated, both to my search, and to each other, but soon, it started creating an intriguing picture.
She was researching the same ancient magical formations I tried to find.
After listening to her findings, it wasn’t shocking that my search had been fruitless. She was clearly under the orders of someone, with a detailed guide for every scrap of information hidden in the depths of some random books of reference, but even then, the information only touched the edges of the information I had been facing. Only by seeing them together, aggregated, I could see the shape of my target, and even then, it was nothing relating to the core, just a shadowy silhouette drawing the edges.
The absence of the core information, however, was too apparent. Suspiciously so.
As if someone had gone through the library in painstaking detail, removing everything relating to the information I had been seeking. The mystery was getting deeper and deeper.
I deliberately tried to avoid trying to ask her about who asked her to gather the information, because she was doing her best to keep the discussion away from that topic. If I was interrogating someone else, that would have been the point I used some enhanced interrogation techniques, but luckily for Emma, I had a much more efficient way of loosening her tongue.
Along with the rest of her body.
“What an interesting spell you’re trying to design,” I said even as I put my hand on her thigh, still covered with her robe. Her voice tightened, but that was her only reaction to her otherwise smooth explanation, already accepting where that touch might lead after the ending of our last encounter.
“It’s smart, trying to develop a trump card,” I said, listening to her lengthy explanation, going deeper and deeper into the theoretical aspects, deep enough that I was having trouble following her explanation. I was good at magic, but that didn’t mean I could follow every little magical theory easily.
She just nodded at my words, more interested in the way my hand slipped under her robe, making contact with her naked skin. She tried to pull the hem of her robe reflexively, only to abandon that attempt a moment later. “Good girl,” I whispered, making her shiver.
“I need to go back to my room,” she whispered.
“Do you?” I countered even as my hand traveled higher, making her blush climb higher alongside it as well. As my hand moved up, it dragged her robe along as well, and soon, it failed to cover her bottom properly. It revealed her legs, pale and creamy, yet deliciously tight. More interestingly, it revealed her panties, black and lacy, almost invisible, far more interesting than I had been expecting her to wear for a midnight research activity.
After our adventures, she was starting to embrace her femininity, it seemed.
Her panties weren’t the biggest evidence of her transformation, however. No, that honor went to the growing wetness of her core, announcing her arousal.
It was always good to have confirmation of my partner’s excitement.
She noticed the target of my gaze, her magical explanation stammering as she tried to tighten her legs, but my hand positioned carefully, that attempt was destined for failure. “It’s difficult to explain complicated theories while distracted,” she whispered, though her throaty tone left it doubtful whether she wanted my touch to cease, or asking for permission to stop her explanation, so that she could properly on the treatment she was receiving.
“What distraction? I’m perfectly silent, and listening in rapt attention,” I said, earning a frustrated sigh in response, hardly helped by my forcing of her legs even wider, giving me a view of her core, its sight restricted only by her moist panties.
“You’re right,” she said in resignation, continuing her explanation into the intricacies of magic, only to be stutter once more when my fingers reached her panties. I pulled, and their delicate texture failed to resist my touch, allowing me to rip them off easily.
And her explanation got considerably slower once I leaned forward, pressing my lips on her naked slit. A moan forced itself between her words, and it got only worse when my tongue joined the fray. Her sweet taste blossomed on my tongue as I lazily caressed her knob, leading her to let out another moan, interrupting her explanation.
“Why did you stop?” I asked, pulling my head under her skirt, catching her expression turning from pleasure to frustration. A wiggle of my eyebrows just pushed the impression further.
“You…” she gasped. “You can’t expect me to explain complicated magical theories while doing … that.”
“As you wish,” I said with a sigh, even as I reached for my belt. Some fumbling later, my shaft was free from the tight prison of my pants, breathing freely. “Then, be a dear and help me back,” I said even as grabbed her wrist, and with a tug, pulled her down the table.
She was going to use her lips, one way or another.
A push later, she was kneeling in front of me, inches away from my shaft. “Don’t waste time, sweetie,” I said even as I grabbed her robe, pulling hard enough to rip the front, revealing the corset underneath, once again black and lacy.
I just needed to decide the intensity of the interrogation…
