Herta adjusted to life in my home far quicker than I expected.
Yelena, Katie, and Drum still looked at her with suspicion, but she didn't argue, didn't fight, didn't even flinch. She simply smiled, clung to me, and followed whatever I said. Her way of speaking was just as strange as the others warned me about: short, simple phrases, more like thoughts spoken aloud than conversations.
"Master warm. Herta likes warm."
"Master smile more. Pretty smile."
"Master strong. Herta happy."
It wasn't stupidity. Her eyes carried understanding — devotion, even. She simply didn't need long sentences to express herself. She said exactly what she felt, when she felt it, with nothing in between.
Her actions were the same. Straightforward. Simple. Always focused on me.
Herta's trait was clear from the start: she existed only to please me. If I told her to stay still, she'd stay until morning. If I told her to bring water, she'd spill her own body into a cup. If I told her to hurt herself — she'd smile and do it, just to see if I'd praise her for being useful.
Her love was unending. Her sweetness was suffocating.
And though she seemed simple-minded, there was madness in that smile.
It was on a quiet night after a quest when she revealed just how far that madness went.
The bath was already filled when I returned, steam curling invitingly over the stone. I sighed, stripping off my clothes and stepping in with relief.
The water was warm. Almost too warm.
I sank deeper, closing my eyes — only to feel the water ripple strangely. It clung to my skin differently than usual, thicker, smoother, alive.
Before I could react, the water surged upward.
I gasped. "What the—?!"
The bath wasn't water.
It was Herta.
Her body molded and rose, forming curves and limbs until her voluptuous, dripping figure stood over me. Her blue skin gleamed in the steam, her massive chest bouncing with each playful tilt of her head, her bikini-like scraps clinging so tight they looked painted on. Droplets slid down her thighs and pooled at her feet, reforming seamlessly into her body.
She giggled, her voice bubbly and sweet. "Bath is me. Funny trick, yes?"
I froze, face burning. She was naked. Completely naked, though with her body, clothing barely mattered.
She stepped closer, the water rippling around her as she pressed her soft, squishy form against me. Her breasts pressed against my chest, molding around me as though her body was made just to fit mine.
"Master red. Cute." She giggled again, leaning closer, pressing more of her body against me. "Like warm? Like soft?"
I swallowed hard, my body stiffening under the impossible sensation. Her skin was supple, slick like water, yet yielding like the softest flesh. Every touch seemed to melt against me, her curves molding perfectly around my hands, my chest, my thighs.
I tried to protest, but my hands betrayed me.
They rose, pressing against her breasts.
My fingers sank deep into her, the heavy orbs squishing between my palms, warm and pliant, yet somehow firm beneath the surface. My breath caught.
Herta gasped softly, her smile widening. "Master touching me. Good… good. Do you like chest?"
I couldn't lie. My cheeks burned hotter as the words tumbled out. "…Y-Yeah. I like them."
Her arms slipped around me, her entire body melting and reforming until I was encased in her embrace. Her breasts pressed harder against my chest, her thighs curling around my waist under the water, her slick, warm body sliding against every inch of me.
She giggled again, sweet and airheaded. "Good! Master likes Herta. Herta belongs to Master. Forever. Only Master."
Her lips brushed my ear, her words dripping with devotion. "If Master happy… Herta happy. Even if small way. Even if silly way. Herta useful. That enough."
Her voice was light, innocent, but her grip was unrelenting. Her whole body molded tighter against me, swallowing me in warmth. My length twitched against her thigh under the water, and her eyes lit up at the sensation.
"Master hard," she whispered, tilting her head in wonder. "Is this… for me?"
Before I could even answer, she pressed herself tighter, her breasts enveloping me fully, her thighs locking me down. She smiled like a girl given her first gift, completely overjoyed at the thought that I might want her back.
I gasped, drowning in warmth, in softness, in her bubbly obsession.
Yelena's neediness was overwhelming. Katie's protectiveness was suffocating. Drum's jealousy was crushing.
But Herta's madness was different.
It was sweet. Innocent.
And utterly consuming.