I woke when it was nearly dark, mouth dry, and my cock feeling sticky where it laid against my belly, fully soft. Rosalie was curled up under my arm, facing away from me, still wearing my t-shirt. Licking my lips and trying to work up any kind of moisture for my mouth, I gently worked my way up to a sitting position, doing my best not to disturb her, and slipped off the foot of the bed to stand on the floor. I could hear, faintly, the sounds of the Jeopardy theme song through the wall of my bedroom. I was comforting, in a way, to know I was surrounded by people living normal lives, enjoying normal things. A reminder that my life wasn't necessarily going to be like this forever.
Still naked, I crept my way over to the living room, grabbing one of the unopened cola bottles leftover from dinner, and gratefully pouring the fizzy sweetness over my tongue and down my parched throat. The room was blue and gloomy in the growing twilight, lit only by the street lamps outside, so I didn't fear anyone spying on me, but my eyes flicked over the the front door and the gap in the plaster from where the deadbolt was ripped through. As quietly as I could, I lifted up the end of one of the loveseats, and pulled it in front of the door, the other two legs scraping softly on the scuffed hardwood floor. It wouldn't make the greatest of barriers, but it was better than nothing. I should have done it before falling asleep, but my passions were in full control at the time.
Since Rosalie was still resting, I went and helped myself to a shower, grateful to be able to rinse away the sweat of the day's many exertions. My filthy feet made a muddy trickle to the drain as I hosed myself off, and while I knew I didn't have a ton of time, I took my time to give myself a thorough cleaning. I was lucky that, despite probably smelling like a gym bag, Rosalie still wanted to fuck and didn't seem to mind my aggression.
Aya didn't appear until I was stepping out of the shower, looking my body up and down appreciatively. "Your demesne grows, little by little, my prince," she told me with a grin, "And now you have taken your first concubine. You should be proud. May she be the first of many."
I gave the woman in the mirror a wry look as I reached for a towel, and found the pegs I usually hang them on bare. I only had a couple towels, and Rosalie must have helped herself to the last clean one without realizing it. I decided to wait on the bath mat until I stopped dripping, rather than wipe up after myself. To the lovely woman in the mirror, I shook my head. "Rosalie's not a concubine, Aya," I said with a note of exasperation in my voice, "But I'm glad you approve of us getting down. I guess you're not a jealous woman, or book, or whatever you are."
Her smiled widened. "A true prince, embracing their destiny, will end up with a stable of wives and concubines in their demesne, to attend to their needs," she explained, running a hand through her braids, her other on her hip, "I belong to you. You are my lord and master, though you must prove yourself to gain full access to my arcane secrets. It is not my place to be jealous of who my prince chooses to attend his lordly self."
I snorted a brief laugh. "A stable of concubines, huh? I've never even had a girlfriend for more than a few months, you know," I told her, turning to bend over the tub slightly. Aya playing with her hair inspired me to rake my fingers through my own, trying to wring out the excess water. I didn't mind Aya, I was beginning to quite like her actually, but standing there, naked, and having my sex life judged by the woman living in my head did not really appeal. When I turned back to fish my hairbrush of the medicine cabinet, Aya had her grumpy, skeptical look on, her arms crossed. I had to admit, she looked pretty cute when she was acting tsundere like that.
"A subject you take into your bed is no mere 'girlfriend'," Aya said, still able to speak even though I swung the mirror open, her eyes trying to follow me as she pivoted out of sight briefly. When I shut the medicine cabinet, she had "stepped" back behind me so I could brush my hair, but as usual she didn't pause in her lecture. "Go to your Rosalie again, and ask her to lay with you. She has been claimed by your magic, and she will not refuse."
That made me pause. "Wait, are you telling me that I'm mind controlling her? Can she even consent, then?" I asked, and having brushed my short hair back, put the hairbrush down on top of the toilet so I could brush my teeth. My mouth didn't taste nearly as nasty as when I woke up, but it still wasn't great. "I don't want to be a rapist. I want her to be able to enforce her own boundaries if I ask her to do something."
Aya rolled her eyes dramatically, behind my right shoulder. "Then tell her so," she said, sounding annoyed, "Just because you possess power over her, does not mean you cannot surrender it. Remember, the claiming works because at the moment of casting, she did not object to identifying herself as your woman. It might be unusual for someone who was a mundane human just yesterday, but do not succumb to self-flagellation simply because you do not understand your own abilities."
I paused with my hand groping for a toothbrush that wasn't in it's customary place in my bathroom cup. Glancing around, I spotted it in a dusty corner near my trash can, where I had dropped it in surprise that morning. With a sigh, I grabbed my toothpaste and began piping it onto my finger. I had to do something to clean up. "Look, things happened kind of quickly, and..." I trailed off, to narrow my eyes at Aya. "You don't care, do you? Your whole morality is power-oriented. If Rosalie is my concubine or whatever, according to you I have the right to do whatever to her that I please."
Aya's shrug was all the answer I needed, as I began awkwardly scrubbing my teeth to the best of my ability. I pushed down my outrage, reminding myself that Aya was a very different being from a very different time. Of course she would have a different ethical framework. I would have to be my own moral compass.
Shortly after, a sleepy looking Rosalie, still wearing my Calliope Mori t-shirt, came shuffling down the hall, yawning and brushing back her blue hair. "Ozzy? Who are you talking to?" she asked in the middle of a yawn, coming into the bathroom just as I was rinsing out my mouth. She sleepily wrapped her arms around my shoulders after I straightened, pulling herself close to me, not at all phased by my nakedness and damp skin. "That was so good," she murmured, "I've never felt so desired and safe at the same time. I was worried when I woke up and you weren't there, I just wanted t-" she cut off suddenly, eyes flying open as she looked in the mirror. She did a double take, glancing between me, the mirror, and the rest of the bathroom, before blushing red as a beet. "That's your..." she swallowed, "Your... mirror person?"
