A tale of artists, intrigue, and the magical renaissance

Twisted Smut 5 – Amet Tabularii {Boring Accountants}

Anecdotal reports indicated that many found the Storm’s influence to be a kind of “buzzing” throughout various areas of their bodies. It sounded incredibly unpleasant to Fiora; as if other people felt honeybees working beneath the skin. She didn’t know if the Storm worked differently in her, or if others just weren’t as precise in their wording, but she was glad that, for her at least, the Storm was kinder.

The feeling was not a buzz, it was technically more apt to describe it as a purr. A “buzz” implied harshness, an annoying grating feeling. The tingles and tickles that were currently travelling through her shoulders now were more like a lover’s touch, familiar and relaxing. Her pen slipped across the pages of the small book easily, much smoother than the quill that a less equipped worker would’ve had, and the lines of numbers already took up an entire page.

There was something to be said about the artistry of her work, even if others refused to see it as such. She was an Artifex, and the tools Fiora used were a reflection of her art. She used a pen with a metal nib, a copy of the Machinator-made pen that Fiorentino had requested. The book she carried with her at all times was a rich brown leather, small enough to fit in the pocket of her waistcoat in those rare occasions when it wasn’t being used, yet large enough that it would be some time before she had to take the risk of getting another one.

Fiora finished the final row of numbers and leaned back, unconsciously biting the end of the pen as she let her eyes skate across the book. Tingling in the shoulders relaxed her tense muscles as the numbers shifted accommodatingly beneath her gaze, moving across the page to highlight some connection, or to minimize confusion. Fiora followed them raptly, occasionally making a noise beneath her breath as a little factoid clicked into place or when she saw something she hadn’t before.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to interrupt your work, I know how fascinated you must all be by it,” a voice tittered, breaking her reverie, and Fiora glanced up from her book with a frown of annoyance. She didn’t recognize whatever tour guide or dignitary had just interrupted the entire room, but she already didn’t like her. The tone of the blonde-and-too-young dignitary had made it clear that she wasn’t sorry, she didn’t know, and she had trouble imagining anyone might actually find this work fascinating.

“Ah, it is no interruption at all,” The head accountant sat at the front of the room, his desk overlooking all of his underlings, “I’m sure no one will mind the distraction, especially for such an honor as this.” Fiora made an effort to smile through her annoyance, closing her book and capping her pen, placing both in their pocket of her waistcoat. Her stormtouched quite clearly didn’t mind the distraction, but she certainly did.

“Oh Cosimo you naughty man,” the young dignitary waggled a finger at the head accountant, “you weren’t supposed to know who our mysterious guest was! Well, for the rest of you then,” the woman turned and addressed the other eight men and women at their desks, each with an Echoe standing beside them, “may I present Prince Ulisse, visiting us from the lovely city of Venecchi. I’m told he’s visited before you before, but I’m sure you all appreciate the great honor each time.”

Fiora’s annoyance vanished almost at once as the Prince and his retinue entered. Ulisse himself was no reason to celebrate, but if he was here it meant his retinue would be here as well. The accountants all straightened and looked properly honored as the Prince entered, his guards and other assorted personnel close behind, but Fiora didn’t bother. While he might’ve been the sort of dangerous man who flew into a rage when his worth was questioned, he was also the sort of vain man who twisted everything he heard or saw into a compliment. The man was the perfect example of a ruler whose most redeeming quality was that he listened to those wiser than him.

Fiora very resolutely did not allow her gaze to flick behind the man, to those wiser than him. He hadn’t brought his aide or either of his advisors, but he had brought her

“Cosimo, I hope you realize that a large part of this trip is to confer with you personally about the state of those books we’ve sent over,” Prince Ulisse made a good attempt at ignoring the bows of the other accountants and their Echos, but the smug tilt to his mouth betrayed him.

The man is greeted with bowing and scraping every day of his life since he became Prince, Fiora thought with disdain, it is astonishing that he’s still able to feel smug about it. How unfulfilled must his life have been before royalty?

“It has been both a joy and an honor to be allowed the privilege, my Lord,” Cosimo said with another half-bow. Fiora’s mouth tilted up in a half-smile at the lie. She had found it a joy. Some of the other Echoes had found it a joy. Cosimo and the accountants had found it a chore, one that could only be undertaken with the greatest amount of complaining possible. “We found it so much an honor, my Lord,” Cosimo continued, “that we’ve taken the liberty of rewriting the accounts into books more fitting of my Lord’s position.”

Cosimo indicated the shelf on the wall behind him, where the gold-and-leather bound books sat looking imposing and official.

“How marvelous!” The Prince clapped his hands with delight, “this is what I’ve come to expect from the accountants of Florezia, Cosimo. It takes dedication to take something so dull and turn it into a work of art like that.”

“It is very kind of my Lord to say so,” Cosimo said modestly, “and as we have begun work on the final book, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that we’ve almost completed the task you’ve set us; going through all of Venecchi’s records.”

Fiora allowed herself a small breath of relief. As expected, the elaborate and unnecessary bindings on the books had impressed the Prince enough that he didn’t care the accountants had rewritten them from scratch, replacing the unintelligible scrawls and hasty footnotes and margins with a beautiful record of financial history.

They were a work of art, although less because of their shiny bindings and more because of what they had done with the slovenly wreck of numbers they’d been given. Prince Ulisse would never understand the beauty of what they had done, but she consoled herself with the knowledge that the true ruler of Venecchi would.

Fiora had been trying to avoid looking at her the entire time, but her resolve finally broke at that thought. She gave a single glance behind the Prince, casually, carelessly. The Prince’s Echo was far less subtle and had been staring at her intently, so that even a careless glance was enough for them to lock eyes.

It didn’t matter how many times she saw them, Fiora’s breath was always taken away by Ulia’s eyes. Her hair was raven black, but her eyes somehow seemed darker, and the look in them flew through Fiora like electric shocks or flying arrows. Looking into Ulia’s eyes was like staring into a dream of all the days and nights that could be spent, just the two of them, alone together.

One of those dark playful eyes winked, a movement so fast one could’ve missed it in a blink, but it was enough to make Fiora’s knees weak. She returned her attention to Cosimo and the Prince before she did something foolish like blush.

“I am very pleased to hear that the work is progressing so smoothly, but I’ve learned to expect great things from you accountants. You all handle the most dull and tedious work in the city and we all love you for it.” Prince Ulisse was saying, “I plan on taking all of my accounts back to Venecchi when I leave in two days, and I’m sure my own accountants will be pleased to see what you’ve done with them.”

“Two days?” To his credit, Cosimo didn’t actually gasp, but the dismayed look on the various accountants’ faces betrayed their horror, “my lord, I don’t know if…that is to say…” He spluttered a few more times before falling into an awkward silence.

“Now, Cosimo, I don’t normally do this, so I want you very aware of what an honor this is,” if he noticed Cosimo’s distress, the Prince didn’t comment on it, “but you have all done such an amazing job on these accounts that I wanted to do something a little special for you.”

“My Lord, you didn’t have to do any-”

“No no, I insist. There is a feast being held in my honor tonight, in less than two hours’ time. I’ve decided to allow you all to attend.”

“Your Lordship is too kind.” Cosimo’s tone clearly expressed that he would’ve prefered a reward of more substance, but Prince Ulisse once again didn’t seem to pick up on the tone. Fiora stared very resolutely at her Stormtouched’s desk in front of her.

“Nonsense, you’ve all earned it. I shall leave you to wrap up your work now, and I’ll see you in the dining hall in two hours.”

The Prince and his guards and hangers-on exited, Ulia giving another glance over her shoulder that made Fiora shiver before she left.

Regio vastata,” Cosimo swore after the door had shut and the footsteps died away, “two days? He expects us to have the final book done in two days? A week would strain us, two days of late evenings and early mornings is what he’s resigned us to.”

“But…but not tonight, right sir?” Fiorentino ventured from his desk near the back of the room. “On account of the feast? It’s not every day we’re invited to a Prince’s feast, you wouldn’t keep us from going, just to work over some more books would you? The Prince won’t mind if we’re a little late, he’s the one who invited us after all.”

Fiora suppressed an urge to close her eyes and sigh. Fiorentino was a good man, but there were times when she wondered how on earth he could be so stupid and guileless about the business world he lived in. Instead she made a face of exasperation and met Cosimo’s eyes over the unfortunate young man’s head.

“I’ll have to think on that, give me one moment, Fiorentino,” Cosimo said with a sigh. “Fiora, I believe I asked you to make note of the King’s tax collection changes, would you mind giving me a quick rundown?”

“Of course sir,” Fiora slipped the small book from her waistcoat pocket as she moved down the empty space in between the two rows of accountants. She set the book down on Cosimo’s desk, holding it carefully to both keep her place and keep it from vanishing. They both bent over the book, poring over the two blank pages she showed him.

“I’m sorry sir, I’ve been trying to help him but I think I’m only making things worse.” Fiora said quietly.

“You’re not the one who needs to be sorry for anything, the boy is an idiot,” Cosimo muttered. “I wouldn’t waste any more time trying to get him to think like a real accountant.”

“I know, but I’m afraid we’re both stuck with him.”

“Mmm,” Cosimo stroked his goatee and pointed at the empty pages as if showing her something. “So. Two days to finish Ulisse’s last book out. What do you think Fi?”

Usually Fiora didn’t appreciate any shortening of her name, even when Fiorentino did it. From a fellow true accountant, someone she considered a fellow professional, it wasn’t so bad.

“I think we can handle it, sir. It’ll be a rough few nights, but we’ve dealt with worse.”

“Have you now?”

“Of course, you didn’t think Nezella actually finished all of Count Atticus’s estate estimates on her own did you? In one day?”

“The little bitch certainly made it seem that way,” Cosimo chuckled quietly, “I might’ve known she couldn’t have pulled that off on her own.”

“I’m offended you didn’t recognize my individual flair.”

“For a blissful week, I thought I was lucky enough to have two Fioras working for me. Can’t blame a man for wishful thinking.” The pair were silent for a moment before he spoke again, “What do you need from me to get this done?”

“My team will stick around, I doubt I’ll even have to ask them. All I need is my desk.”

“If you were anything else I’d be worried about you calling them ‘your team’ and ‘your desk’.”

“You’d be worried that I was aiming for your job?”

“I’d be worried that you’d take it. Someday you should tell Fiorentino exactly why I’ve kept him around all these years,” Cosimo said. Fiora smiled, but returned to her desk without comment as Cosimo cleared his throat and spoke loud enough for the rest of the room to hear, “as for your question Fiorentino, of course I wouldn’t stop anyone who wants to attend the Prince’s feast.”

 


 

Fiora wasn’t bothered that Matteo had stayed to work late. She of all people could hardly blame anyone for being dedicated to the job, but then she had patience and a love of the work she was doing. Some of the others were probably getting a little impatient. She finished another line of neat precise numbers, and looked up as they took a few moments to rearrange themselves on the page.

The room was much more quiet after official work hours, when nearly everyone had left. The only inhabitants of the room were Fiora, four other Echoes, and Matteo, who was just setting his pen down and rubbing a crik in his neck.

“I can’t believe they just left to go to the feast,” Matteo grumbled. “This is going to be a huge project, I would’ve thought more of them would realize that.”

“Some of us care about the accounts, some of us only work when it is our duty to do so,” Fiora gave Matteo a calculating look over the frames of her glasses. “I suppose the distinction is made tonight.”

“No offense to your Stormtouched, Fiora, but Fiorentino should be the one pulling late hours if he wants a chance at advancement, not you and definitely not me. Sometimes it seems like he’s content being our juniormost member forever.”

“No offense is taken. Between you and me, I think Fiorentino is one of the latter. He arrives when he’s paid to arrive, he leaves as soon as he can. It’s not a wrong way of thinking, perse, just different.”

The numbers had settled back down, pointing her in a direction she hadn’t thought to go, and Fiora went back to her little book, moving on to the next page with the new direction in mind. She hadn’t thought Matteo the type to actually care about the numbers, but here he was several hours after the others had left.

Perhaps I misjudged him. Perhaps I should’ve kept an eye on him even after the tax law disaster-

“Well, I don’t really care about feasts, but I’m not fond of the idea of breaking my back when they aren’t willing to,” Matteo sighed in frustration and closed his book with a sharp snap, quill wedged inside as a bookmark.

Perhaps not.

“It’s about time,” his Echo Mat said, closing his own book, “I worried I’d be stuck here after I finished my novel.”

“Let’s see, only Echoes left…Will you all be much longer? Should I leave the lanterns lit?” Matteo asked the room in general as he stood.

“I don’t think Cosimo would mind if you left them on,” Fiora understated, “and it would let us finish up in here.”

“I don’t know how much work he gets from Echoes working late, but Cosimo could probably save money on lantern oil if he just let you all leave with the others…” Matteo trailed off as an Echo entered, passing through the door to the room. Ulia’s dress was beautiful, ruffled and lacey in the pinks and whites of Venecchi, and her short dark hair and vibrant eyes contrasted with it in a way that drew attention to every bit of her.

Matteo seemed suddenly at a loss for words. “…Ah, your majesty…I mean, that is to say your majesty’s Echo? Or rather his majesty’s…I’m sorry, how can I help you, your…ma’am?” He continued, growing more and more awkward in the face of her silent smile.

“Princess Ulia is a mute, Matteo,” Fiora tried not to take too much amusement from the man’s flustered tone, “she often comes by our offices when Prince Ulisse visits, since she advises him on accountancy matters in Venecchi. She enjoys learning of how we do things here.”

“Oh, I had no idea…would you like me to stay and help show her around?” Matteo glanced at the door longingly.

“It’s quite alright Matteo, I think I can answer the Princess’ questions. I don’t believe you know how sign language, do you?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t. Well, I leave you in very capable hands then, Princess Ulia,” Matteo was moving for the door even as he spoke, “Have a good night Fiora, Otto, Gia, Jac.”

None of the five Echoes spoke as Matteo locked the door behind him with a series of clicks and rattles. As soon as the sound of footsteps faded away, the entire room seemed to relax, as if collectively releasing a breath that had been held for days.

“I was starting to think he wouldn’t ever leave,” Gia stretched and stood from her seat, leaning over the desk to continue her work standing, the way she liked. “Why stay so long if complaints are all you have at the end of it?”

“Did you see his eyes go wide when the Princess came in?” Otto grinned, “it’s nice to see you again Ulia, we’ve missed you.”

Ulia smiled wide, and Fiora’s stomach did a flip, but she gathered up her book and pen and stepped over to Cosimo’s desk. He had left the chair pulled out just as she liked it, and he had cleared his desk of papers leaving it clean for her. Fiora sighed with satisfaction as she took her rightful place in the room. Her team was all that was left, and any of the official rules that hampered their effectiveness were gone.

It was Fiora’s office now.

“Alright team,” the Echoes gave Fiora their full attention as soon as she began speaking, “it’s a week’s worth of work we’ve been asked to do, and two night’s time to do it. What are we facing here?”

“To their credit, they actually tried to organize this one,” Jac had risen from his chair and was sitting cross-legged on Jacob’s desk, poring over the loose pages his Stormtouched had left for him, “unfortunately for us they organized by person, not by date, and didn’t leave any indication of when each transaction happened.”

“Alright, we can deal with that, and some organization is better than none. Gia, your status?”

“I’m afraid I’ll be useless to you this evening Fiora,” Gia frowned, “Giani must not have been thinking, she took some of her pages with her when she left.”

“Do you remem-” Fiora stopped herself from asking a silly question; Gia didn’t have to remember what the pages said, her Storm would fill in the blanks. “Very well, I’ll let you get on to transcribing them. And don’t say you’re useless Gia, we would’ve had to have kept a record of Venecchi’s files anyway, transcribing them is a required step even if we do it out of order.”

Now that’s interesting, Ulia signed, approaching the desk at the head of the room slowly with a mischievous smile. Why would Florezian accountants keep duplicates of Venecchian books? Are you keeping secrets Fiora?

“We keep all of the records of our work Ulia,” Fiora explained, “books are lost, stolen, destroyed or hidden every day. The humans haven’t learned to keep more than one copy around on their own, but they have learned to listen to us when we tell them to do things.” Fiora was rewarded with silent laughter, Ulia’s shoulders shaking beneath the ruffles of her dress. She turned to Otto, pleased with herself. “Give me some good news, please.”

“The good news is Princess Ulia is here,” Otto said with a grin, “the work’ll go fast boss, you’ll see.”

Fiora tried to give him a severe frown, but the effect was ruined by the half-smile that kept cropping up on her face.

“Alright then ladies and gentlemen. Let’s get some actual work done.”

It was a very different sight than the first part of the night had been. Jac sat on top of the desk and worked, Gia stood at hers, Otto leaned back and rested both feet on the back of another chair. Princess Ulia moved from Echo to Echo, looking over their shoulders at the work they did and occasionally signing questions which they would answer. From time to time Fiora glanced over her glasses at them with pride. Each working in the way that they did best; efficient, quiet, careful, studious machines every one of them.

Every now and then one of them would glance her way with anticipation out of the corner of an eye, but Fiora believed in the power of anticipation. She waited for several long hours before she finally gave in to the subtle, silent pleas.

“Your Highness,” she said lightly,“I can’t help but notice the difference between your fine dress and our clothes.”

Fiora could see in her eyes that Ulia had been waiting for this moment, but the look was replaced a moment later with one of innocence.

I’ve always found the accountants’ clothes quite fetching, she signed. Fiora glanced down at herself. A waistcoat and long pants, all in a dark brown that didn’t go very well with her light brown hair, was the uniform of the accountants in the room. She didn’t much care for it, but looking at Ulia’s enthusiastic face she could believe that Ulia actually did find it pretty.

“You look lovely as well, Highness,” Fiora smiled, then straightened her back and gestured, “but I don’t think any of us can work well while distracted by how underdressed we are. We can’t exactly leave to find nicer clothes, so you’ll have to take that dress off.”

But Mistress Fiora, I’m not wearing anything underneath the dress! Ulia signed gleefully, Surely you can’t mean me to be so exposed in front of everyone-

“I said ‘take the dress off’, Ulia,” Fiora interrupted, “and I don’t believe I phrased it as a request.”

Princess Ulia was a bad actress, but Fiora found it endearing. She may have feigned reluctance as she slowly untied the bodice of her dress, but the delighted smile that played at her lips betrayed her true feelings. Ulia let the dress slip off of her, the pink and white sliding down and exposing pale skin. Fiora allowed herself one long look as it fell away.

With her short black curls and her dark eyes and pale skin, the Princess was a work of art with only splashes of color. Fiora let her gaze travel across those touches. The pretty pink blush on Ulia’s cheeks matched the pink of her full lips. The twin necklaces of gold draped around her neck, matched the gold earrings peeking through her hair, and beneath the necklaces her hard pink nipples stood out from milky breasts. No color adorned the curves of her hips and her long legs, but they contrasted with the black hair, trimmed and neat, that lay between them.

“I think everyone can agree that is much better,” Fiora tried not to purr as the gorgeous ballgown vanished from where it fell, and she turned back to her book with an air of professionalism. From the corner of her eye she saw Ulia smile, and the pretty expression made her heart jump. “Though your pacing back and forth between the accountants is rather distracting. Stand still where you are, if you please.”

Princess Ulia stood obediently, clasping her hands behind her back in a way that pushed her breasts forward, parting her legs ever so slightly. Fiora had to battle to keep herself from staring, beginning to get uncomfortably warm in a pleasant way. She was keenly aware of Ulia’s gaze, her head tilted ever so slightly, watching her through her eyelashes.

“Still distracting,” Fiora said without looking up. “Perhaps it is because you’re too tall. On your knees, if you please Highness.”

You want me to kneel while you all work? Ulia signed, her mouth twitching as she fought a smile, I can’t imagine anything more humiliating-

“On. Your. Knees.” Fiora commanded. The princess knelt obediently on the carpet, in front of Fiora’s desk and in between the others, Gia and Jac on one side, Otto on her other, her hands still clasped behind her back.

Jac, Otto, and Gia were quite clearly enjoying the display, but after a few moments they too returned to work, only pausing now and then, every few minutes glancing up to take in the sight of the docile, naked princess before going back to their tasks. Fiora resolutely did not look up from her work.

An hour passed, one of those hours that made Fiora feel more alive than any other. Numbers, work, art, and in the center of the room Princess Ulia, willing and patiently waiting for her attention. Patience was a virtue that so few had these days, and the quality was as beautiful and attractive to Fiora as the Princess’ body. The other Echoes, her team, probably found the woman a pleasant distraction, but for Fiora her presence was a focus. More work had probably gotten done in that hour than the entire accounting group of eight humans and Echoes did in two days. It wasn’t that Cosimo was a bad leader, it was just that Fiora knew how to inspire them to greatness.

It was all a matter of the right motivation.

“Jac,” Fiora suddenly broke the silence so suddenly that the others jumped.

“Yes Mistress Fiora?”

“Do you recall last week, when you did such a good job with Lady Amaya’s importing numbers?”

“I do remember that, Mistress Fiora,” Jac said respectfully. Fiora didn’t smile, but she enjoyed how easily they all slipped into that form of address.

“I believe I promised that you would be rewarded for that work. How would you feel about having the Princess Ulia as said reward?”

“I would feel very well paid, Mistress.”

“And how would that make you feel, Your Highness?” Fiora asked, letting some of the fire of the evening show through her eyes, “if I were to give away your body as I saw fit, to use you as a sex toy to reward my co-workers?”

She could see Princess Ulia’s naked chest rise and fall faster at the suggestion, and although she made no move to sign, Fiora didn’t have to ask to know how it would make the Princess feel. She would feel humiliated…used…and nothing would turn her on more.

“Jac, you may take a break from your duties. Approach the Princess.”

Jac carefully put his small book into a pocket in his vest and moved next to the Princess, who eyed him from her knees in anticipation. Her hands were still behind her back, and she looked so submissive it was hard to imagine her ruling Venecchi through her Stormtouched the way she did.

“Jac, place your hands behind your back, you are not to touch the Princess and I don’t want you to be tempted.”

“Yes Mistress,” Jac complied just as obediently as Ulia had, and Fiora felt heady with the power of it.

“Now, Princess Ulia, take off Jac’s trousers and begin. Just use your lips at first, the rest of us still have quite a lot to do and I want the entertainment to last.”

In her haste it was a wonder Ulia didn’t rip Jac’s pants. His member sprang from the restriction of his trousers, already hard from watching the naked Princess on her knees. As instructed, the Ulia used only her lips, brushing them across Jac’s length, planting small gentle kisses up and down it.

Otto quietly took his book and crossed the room to have a better view, but other than that the three other Echoes simply watched and continued their work. Long minutes passed, with no sound but the heavy breath from Jac or the soft sigh of one of Ulia’s kisses. Fiora enjoyed both the work and the display in the middle of the room, but after a long ten minutes she relented.

“You may use your tongue, Highness,” she said, “however you think will give him the most pleasure.”

Princess Ulia’s pink tongue started at the base of Jac’s member, then slid all the way to the tip. She played with it, flicking her tongue in wet circles around the head before sliding it into her mouth, sucking on it and then letting go to kiss delicately. Jac moaned, and behind his back his hands clenched tight. Fiora watched the pair with a look halfway between fondness and passion, once in a while glancing at the other Echoes.

Otto was watching enraptured, slowly touching himself through his pants, but Gia was still trying to split her attention and get her work done, though she was blushing and breathing heavily as she did so. Fiora smiled at the sight.

“Oh god, Ulia,” Jac breathed a heavy sigh. His hips moved forward each time the Princess took him in her mouth, and his fingers clenched and unclenched behind his back. Without being told she was using her delicate fingers now as well; whenever she leaned back to playfully flick her tongue along his shaft she would stroke him back and forth, her other hand gently massaging his testicles.

The sight was extremely distracting, even to Fiora. Eventually even she couldn’t keep track of the numbers anymore. Gia had slid her hand into her pants, and Otto had stopped touching himself and was lazily compiling work, occasionally stopping to watch either Gia or the pair in the middle of the room.

“Stop, both of you,” Fiora ordered. Princess Ulia and Jac froze, although a trembling intake of breath told her that Jac had been moments away from finishing. His shaft twitched, a thin strand of precum trailing from its tip to Ulia’s mouth inches away. Fiora let the tension hold steady in the room before she spoke again. “I’m curious, Jac, how does it feel knowing I could order the Princess to step away, clothe herself, and leave?”

“Whatever you think necessary, Mistress Fiora.” Jac’s voice didn’t even waver, though his fingers clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. Fiora smiled.

“Excellent answer. Ulia, you will allow Jac to finish in any way he pleases. Jac, you may use your hands. Do not be gentle.”

The command had no sooner passed her lips than Jac grabbed a handful of the Princess’ black curls. He clearly meant to thrust into her mouth, but she was already taking him, pushing forward until his entire length was in her throat. Jac gasped, and she pulled back to flick him again with her tongue, then slid his cock back into her mouth.

Fiora put her book and pen away in her waistcoat pocket, carefully buttoning it so that it wouldn’t fall out. The more turned on she became, the more deliberate and careful her actions, and she walked around the desk to lean against it and watch the pair very carefully indeed. Ulia was pulling Jac toward her with one hand so that he continued to thrust down her throat, while the other was between her own legs, her fingers slipping in and out of her sex.

“I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, Highness,” Fiora said severely. It was clear that if Ulia could’ve made a sound she would’ve moaned around Jac’s cock in frustration, but as it was she simply withdrew her wet fingers and rested them on her leg, gripping so hard she left nail marks in the pale skin.

Jac came with a long groan, his legs shaking as he did so, pulling the Princess forward until his member was in her mouth down to its base. Ulia swallowed the first few spurts, but as he continued to spend himself she pulled away and leaned back on her rear. She smiled wickedly as his seed landed on her chin, her cheeks, and dripped down onto her breasts, and he moaned again with his last few spasms. He stood over her for a few moments longer, panting, the grip on her hair turning into a caress.

“Back to work with you, Jac,” Fiora said quietly. Jac pulled up his pants and returned to his desk with a wide grin on his face, and he seemed to attack his books with fresh zeal. “You seem to have satisfied Jac quite well, your Highness.” Princess Ulia returned to her previous posture on her knees in front of Fiora, making no move to wipe Jac’s mess from her face or chest.

Thank you, Mistress Fiora, she signed.

“Such good work deserves some reward, I think.”

As you say, Mistress Fiora.

“So, how exactly would be the best way to reward you for your attention to Jac?”

A long moment passed as the Princess pretended to consider the question. Fiora waited patiently. Aroused and wet as she was, she knew that the Princess was turned on enough to break before she did.

Attention from you, Mistress Fiora, the Princess finally signed. Fiora didn’t waste anymore time, crossing the distance between them in the space of a few seconds. She stood over Ulia and held her head in her hands, running her fingers through the Princess’s dark hair. With a silent sigh of contentment Ulia closed her eyes.

Fiora knelt and pressed her lips against the Princess’ hungrily, and with the action lost her restraint. When the kiss deepened she clasped Ulia close to her, the taste of Jac’s semen on her lips exciting and pleasant. The naked woman writhed in her arms, and Fiora kept on kissing her, pressing forward eagerly as the two fell to the ground. Ulia arched her back and ground her wet slit against her, and her delicate fingers worked their way into Fiora’s pants.

Ulia would moan into her mouth if she could’ve, and the thought was intoxicating enough that Fiora moaned into hers. Vaguely, as if at a distance, she heard Gia give a high-pitched sound as she finished, and beneath Fiora’s kisses Ulia smiled. Fiora didn’t need noise to tell when the Princess came; her body tensed and shook, her legs trembled, and her fingernails clawed at Fiora’s lower back and rear.

Fiora regretted she hadn’t slipped her fingers inside of her lover to feel her tighten and quiver, but Ulia seemed more than satisfied. When the Princess stopped trembling, the waves of orgasm finally leaving her, she gently lay her, worn out, on the ground.

Fiora sat up and slid the single strand of hair that had fallen out of its bun behind one ear. Jac was contentedly working at his desk, Gia adjusting her clothes. Otto was still rubbing himself, but the sight of the naked Princess, hair plastered to her face and Jac’s seed still covering her chest and face, would be enough material for him to finish.

“I think the feast is over,” Jac remarked from his desk. “I just got exhausted, Jacopo must’ve gone to sleep.”

“I think Giovanni is asleep as well,” Gia yawned.

“I had hoped we could get a little more done tonight,” Fiora frowned. “But we’re at least further than halfway through the books. We’re ahead of schedule.”

“Funny how that always seems to happen when Prince Ulisse visits,” Jac grinned, “it’s as if we have a little extra motivation somehow.”

Without opening her eyes, Princess Ulia signed My pleasure from the ground, and Fiora smiled.

“Alright, I suppose there’s a limit to how much we can cover for our Stormtouched’s laziness,” she grumbled. “That’s enough work and play for the night.”

“Are you planning on sleeping here?” Gia slipped the loose handful of papers into her pocket and prepared to leave, covering another yawn with an arm.

“Fiorentino will take a half hour to fall asleep. Longer if he got lucky at the feast. I think I can wrap up a few more things before I have to sleep. I can also tell the Princess a little bit about our new filing systems.”

You’re going to have to give me a few moments before I’m ready for that… Ulia signed from the ground with a tired smile.

Fiora settled back into Cosimo’s chair, slipping the book from her pocket again. Gia, Otto, and Jac said weary goodbyes, leaving her alone with the flickering lanterns, the naked Princess, and her numbers.

“The most boring work in the city,” Fiora murmured with a smile.

 

10 responses

  1. I learned a lot of things with this, the last of this batch of donation chapters.

    1) It is possible to make a sexy version of any profession.
    2) Accounting nerds are sexy, magical accounting nerds sexier, ancient pseudo-italian magical accounting nerds (or APIMAN, for short) are the sexiest.
    3) I am physically incapable of writing the name “Fiora” without first writing the name “Fiona” and then going back and correcting it.

    It wasn’t required to read the chapter, but if you’re feeling generous or you think Twisted Cogs is amazing you can still toss me a vote on TopWebFiction! That #4 spot was pretty delicious, it tasted sweet like apples and honey :D

    *Maddi wanders off to see if she has real apples and honey ’cause that actually sounds really tasty now*

    Like

    2014-09-27 at 11:26 pm

    • panster

      This….was really awesome.

      Like

      2014-09-28 at 12:37 am

      • Is that an insult? You tryin’ to insult me panster? Well two can play this game buddy. Your FACE is really awesome panster, how ’bout that. Your MOM is really awesome.

        Totally showed *you*, so *there*

        Like

        2014-09-28 at 11:59 pm

  2. Good lord, you have quite the imagination.

    Like

    2014-09-28 at 3:07 pm

    • Bahaha, little do you know D.D. Webb, all of this is actually factual information about true history; I haven’t made up a word. I’m only presenting it as fiction so that the government doesn’t shut me down.

      Wake up Sheeple! Your history books have been lying to you!!

      (by the way, thank you for your lovely review on WFG. It made me so happy I did a little dance in my chair (which caused my co-workers to give me very strange looks))

      Like

      2014-09-28 at 11:56 pm

  3. eduardo

    But the echoes work will have to be transcribed into physical books or else it will vanish, no?

    Like

    2014-09-28 at 8:18 pm

    • Absolutely correct! In fact whenever crunch time comes around for this department, a large part of Fiorentino, Giovani, Jacopo and Ottavio’s work day consists of copying down the numbers and work from their Echoe’s notebooks, occasionally asking for help understanding the more complex bits.

      Like

      2014-09-28 at 11:54 pm

      • im kinda interested in the existence of the books, I guess its like clothing. If thats the case, how much stuff can be created and held, and if its far enough away to vanish, does it vanish forever, or can it be recreated. (I know, i know, those are answers for next time, or laer. Lol.

        Like

        2014-10-11 at 11:36 pm

  4. Unmaker

    Typo:
    to listen to use when we tell them to do things
    to listen to us when we tell them to do things

    Like

    2014-10-17 at 11:57 pm

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