Mandat de l'impératrice des Cieux - Imperial Princess Troubleshooter Space Opera Quest

You're starting to reconsider the life choices that have led you to this point. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but here you are: Naked. Handcuffed to a chair. Futilely trying to free yourself with a lockpick. A captive in your own house, lorded over by the fox that shares your bed and tilts you every second. Regret, regret, regret.

Then Amagi Ri-Sumeragi walks into view and your regrets vanish.

Her entire existence is tilt, but she's taken things to a new level. She strides forward confidently, powerfully, like an empress, wearing only a crimson haori trimmed with black and gold, the symbol of her position as a member of Great House Sumeragi. The silk haori is clasped by a gold brooch resting in the valley between her breasts, barely covering her, and your eyes track down to her favorite pair of black lace panties, brazenly on display. Your mouth runs dry as she brushes her cheek and traces the shape of her neck and breasts, circling her nipple. She leans against you, giving you a wonderful view of her cleavage, a view you can never tire of.

"Well now, Johnny," she smirks, "I hope you've had time to come to the correct answer to my question."

You almost surrender then and there, but barely manage to regain the presence of mind to resist. "No, Maggie. I'm not telling you what I got you for Christmas."

"I have ways to make you talk, Darling," she laughs, eyeing your cock. "Your only hope is to free yourself before it's too late."

"Okay look Maggie, first, Christmas is months away, and second, interrogating me for your present is not going to work. All you need to know is you have a present and I will give it to you on Christmas D-ayyyeeei!"

It's happened so many times before, but you're still embarrassed at how you squeak every time she touches you.

"You can't resist me, Darling," she purrs, caressing your leg. Her hand trails up to your back, and you shiver as she draws close, her lips inches away, her hand tracing patterns on your back. "You'll tell me what my present is. Or stay here in torment."

"No," you say determinedly, working the lockpick. "I'm freeing myself." Maggie laughs and draws back, daintily resting her knee against your cock.

"Tick-tock, you're on the clock," your tormentor tells you. Her husky, sexy voice sends shivers up and down your spine. Despite yourself, you can feel yourself hardening, at the sound of her voice, at the scent of her hair.

"There's no reason to make this hard on yourself," she smiles, caressing your brow. You stifle a start and an involuntary moan as her beautiful fingers touch you, running through your hair. "Tell me what I want to know, and I'll release you."

"We both know that's a lie," you gasp, straining against your handcuffs. "I may be naked, handcuffed to this chair, but I still have my pride! The Imperial Navy does not give in to bullying!"

"Even this?" she asks, and the inhumanly beautiful fox turns, bends over, and brushes her tails against you, touching your knees, your thighs, your sides, your chest, your cheeks, your face, filling your nose with her scent. You shoot forward, trying to bury your face in that tantalising fluffness, jerking the chair forward-

-and you feel that little piece of metal slip past your fingers. Damnit, Johnny.

"Ah, shit. Timeout, Maggie," you say, wincing at the bitter taste of defeat in your mouth. The shifting tails stiffen, then sway in resigned annoyance.

"You dropped the pick again, didn't you?"

"I dropped the lockpick again," you admit defeatedly, and Maggie sighs and stands up. She turns around, and you sigh regretfully as her gloriously beautiful tails depart from view.

"Really, Darling. Bad enough you've been struggling at this for far too long, how are you ever going to free yourself if you get captured?"

"Maggie, please, I'm the Third Star Lord. Who's going to kidnap me on the capital? If I'm going to get kidnapped, it's gonna happen when I'm on an inspection tour on the frontier, which means they got past my detail. Anybody who can take out my detail and snatch me... Basically, anybody who can do that? There's no way I'm escaping from them on my own."

"Hm."

"Oh come on," you complain. "That was a really good point, you gotta give me that."

"I have a counter-argument for you, Darling. I'm not going to let you out of your cuffs. That's all on you. Take responsibility for your situation."

"I have a meeting with Hood at 1000 tomorrow."

"Excellent, that gives you a little under twelve hours to free yourself." She smirks smugly at you and turns around, sashaying away. You call out to her.

"Maggie please, as my adjutant you have a duty and responsibility to get me to my meetings on time."

Her tails twitch in the way that tells you she's laughing at you. She turns, looking over her shoulder, hand on her hip, giving you a tantalising glimpse of leg through her silk haori's slit. "Johnny. Fulfilling that duty merely requires that I deliver you to the First Star Lord in presentable condition. So long as I do that, I can leave you all night long, while I am lying. In. Bed. Naked." Her smug look takes a sultry edge. "Imagine it, Johnny. You. Me. In bed. Naked. Together. You hold the key to your release."

It's not the first time you've slept in a chair. You've done it before, you can do it again. You spent your entire life being sexually repressed and riding out blue balls; you've done it before, you can do it again. You can resist this fox's spell on you, you truly can...

...But you don't want to, and you know this is a battle you've lost, so you sigh and contritely say, "Forgive me, my lady, but I beg your favor to loan me another lockpick, that I might prove myself worthy of offering my devotion to you."

"Excellent answer, peasant," she declares haughtily, but you can see her tails and know she's still laughing at you. Her hand trails up from her hip, tracing her curves, ending at the gold brooch nestled between her breasts, the only thing that's barely keeping her haori secured. She removes the brooch and plants her knee between your legs, brushing against your manhood, as she leans forward, unheeding of how her haori falls open, displaying her charms to you. Her fingers touch your arm, trailing a path down to your hands, gently depositing her brooch in your fingers. Her lips brush against your cheek, and you inhale sharply as she whispers in your ear: "Try again, darling."

You try again, using the point of the brooch, working it into the handcuffs-

And you nearly drop the brooch when she kisses you, on the opposite cheek; again, to your brow; again, to your throat; again, to your shoulder; again, on your lips. She sits in your lap, rubbing against you, making you well aware of how she's wearing only a tiny sexy pair of lace panties under her Great House Sumeragi haori.

"You can do it, Johnny," she urges you. "Fight through the distraction and pick your cuffs. Resist. Escape."

"Maggie this isn-"

She captures your lips, her tongue snaking in, and you counterattack, your tongue meeting hers, duelling in your linked mouths. It's a sensory riot: her taste, her feel, her scent, the way she presses against you, your sensitive cock hardening as it brushes against her legs, her hands clinging to your back; it's too much, far too much, and you can barely focus enough to keep working at your cuffs, resisting the urge to just drown yourself in her wave.

Lord have mercy.

Your fingers slip and you emit a frustrated cry as you feel the brooch slipping through your fingers-

-and her fingers close over yours, catching the brooch, dropping in your fingers. "Try again, darling," she whispers, seductive and encouraging and demanding, and you groan and try again, fumbling away at your cuffs. "Remember what I taught you," Maggie purrs, as she trails a finger up and down your chest, drawing circles over your pubic mound, and you jerk and squirm from the stimulation. You can feel pressure growing in your back, feel caterpillars running up and down your spine, the sensations so strong it's almost painful-

"You can do it, darling," she whispers, stroking your head. She caresses your back and the pressure subsides, the caterpillars slowing at her touch. She kisses you and you kiss her back in a light-headed haze-

You feel, not hear, the brooch slipping out, falling from your fingers, hitting the floor, and you snarl in frustration. Maggie strokes your head and kisses your chin. "Try again," she encourages you, planting kisses on the way to your ear. "Keep trying, darling." She draws herself down, sliding against your body. Her breath is hot against your cock as she reaches for the floor, picking up her brooch. Her hand is soft as it envelopes your cock, and you feel an irrational spike of fear as her mouth opens wide-

And she licks her lips and affectionately, fondly, lovingly kisses your cock, your mons, your navel, swirling her tongue around your nipples, kissing her way back up to your lips. "Try again, darling," she says, smiling beatifically at you, as she turns around. She leans back against you, her glorious wonderful tails brushing against you.

You most certainly do not squeak like a little boy as her divine softness engulfs you.

"Johnny," she purrs. "If you can escape before I make you cum, you can use my tails to get off."

"That's sacrilegious. Degenerate. D-dep-praved," you stammer hoarsely, even as your cock gets painfully harder.

"That wasn't a no, Darling. You're my degenerate. Own it. Don't repress yourself. Performance deserves a reward. Perform."

You're the third in command of the Imperial Navy, you are most certainly not whimpering in dismayed excitement.

Lord have mercy.

Maggie stands up, and you breathe a sigh of relief and close your eyes, feeling the handcuffs, testing the lock, working the brooch-

And pleasant warmth engulfs your cock and you groan and open your eyes. You look down into Maggie's smug royal blue eyes, as she expertly tenderly fellates you. "Maggie," you groan desperately. "Maggie."

She releases your cock, licks her lips, and parts her haori. She engulfs your cock with her breasts, smiles smugly at you, and licks her nipple, and you nearly cum then and there.

"Don't give up now, Johnny," she purrs. "Your reward is on the line. I'm betting on you."

Those words make you irrationally happy. You redouble your efforts, picking at the lock, testing, pushing, desperately trying to free yourself. Maggie kicks things into high gear. You squirm and groan and focus through the haze of pleasure, driven to a frenzy physically and mentally-

And your world turns upside down, it's like you're falling off a cliff, your head spinning, falling down and down and down into that pillowy softness, giving yourself completely into heretical rapture-

Your mind goes blank, you see stars. Time ceases to have any meaning for you. It takes you a while to realise you're the source of those panting breaths you hear, and you groan as Maggie's breasts coax the last drops of your load out. You've made a mess on her chest, a depraved abstract painting; she tsks and shakes her head, smirking. Smugly, she coats a finger with your cum and draws your initials above her breast, and you swallow as you feel yourself reacting to that sight. She pops that finger into her mouth, sucking it off erotically, and she sighs dramatically.

"Johnny. Whatever shall I do with you, darling?"

In one brief moment of exhausted clarity, you find the center, and press in. With a click, your handcuffs pop open, and you tiredly groan in relief. Maggie just shakes her head, dramatically disapproving.

"Well, that was a slight improvement. But still, not good enough. Discounting your false starts, you're still taking too long, Darling. Unsat. Failed to meet standard."

You lift your trembling hands, bringing them to your lap, your fingers stiff and numb. Maggie reaches out one beautiful hand, and you sigh happily as you intertwine your fingers. You inhale and exhale, taking deep breaths, calming your racing heartbeat. Unsat? Failed to meet standard? If it's so easy, you do it yourself!

"And so I shall," she declares, and you sigh, realising you said that aloud again.

She's kneeling on the floor, disheveled, her chest painted with your cum, her haori undone and barely hanging on- but despite that submissive posture, despite the worshipful look in her eyes, you don't feel in control at all. And then Amagi Ri-Sumeragi smirks and stands and immediately seizes the upper hand from you. It's amazing, the way she always keeps you on the back foot, lording it over you in your own home. You're a Fleet Admiral, the Third Star Lord, surely you rate this vixen fawning over you?

"That would be boring, Johnny," she purrs, staring down at you. She's physically shorter than you, but her presence fills the room as she draws herself to her full height, spreading her tails behind her. She shrugs languidly and the haori flows down her back. You rise, your mouth dry, stepping aside as she sits on that chair as if it were the Imperial Throne. She crosses her legs, and you're struck by her poise: she is naked save for a tiny pair of panties, wearing your cum on her chest, your initials painted above her breast, and yet she is confident, poised, powerful. An empress - no, a goddess seated on her throne, awaiting the devotion of her worshiper.

"Clean me," the fox-goddess commands, pointing at the abandoned haori. You pick it up, and wipe her inhumanly beautiful body, ruining the ultra-expensive silk with your fluids. Half of you is horrified at the decadent wastefulness - that haori's worth as much as a luxury SUV! The rest of you feels savage glee at twisting a symbol of Great House Sumeragi into a common cleaning rag.

Maggie's eyes flutter closed, and she permits herself a sigh of pleasure as you clean her body, as the silk glides across her breasts, as you thoroughly wipe her down. You withdraw all objections to costs.

Her royal blue eyes open, locking onto you, and she gives you a meaningful look and raises her hands. You move to stand behind her, leaning past her tails, drinking in the beautiful sight of her bare back, cuffing her hands. You stand in front of her and swallow. Her beauty is inhuman. Divine. She sits there, exposed to you, without a care in the world, while you just want to shrivel up into a ball and hide your loathsome body from the world.

She smirks and thirstily, smugly, licks her lips, and you marvel at how her divine perfection could ever long for your mortal ugliness.

"We'll start the clock from the first lick."

"As you wish, Amagi-sama." You kneel before her and reach for her hips. She parts her legs, and you slide her panties down, discarding the scrap of tilting cloth at her feet. You inhale deeply, drinking in her scent, and crawl forward. You kiss your way up from her ankles, worshipping her legs, traveling from her calves to her thighs to her mos. You rest your cheek against her belly, and your wife makes a soft, unidentifiable sound. "My brooch," she commands, and you mimic her earlier action, trailing a path down her arms to her hands, gently depositing the brooch in her fingers. You draw back and look into the goddess' eyes. Neither of you need words. As one, you move together. You can see her hands shifting as she works the lock. She spreads her legs wider and leans back, and you descend to her lips like a man drinking from a hose. Her scent fills your mind, and you struggle on light-headedly, the only thought in your mind being to pleasure the beautiful fox who shares your home. You lick, suckle, kiss. You devour her pussy, tonguing her clit, your hands traveling up and down her body, stimulating her erogenous zones. She moans lustily and squirms. You are a bee, drinking of her flower's sweet nectar, driving her to-

A hand caresses your head, running through your hair, and you look up.

With a supremely self-satisfied look on her face, Maggie calmly displays the unlocked handcuffs to you. You kneel there, looking up dumbly at her. All you can do is sigh long-sufferingly.

Maggie doesn't say a word; she doesn't need to. She just looks you in the eye, drops her brooch by your knee, and cuffs herself. She slides forward, kneeling before you, legs spread, wearing only a smug, indulgent smile, licking her lips lasciviously.

"My lord," she purrs. "I am your spoils. Enjoy me as depravedly as you wish. I am completely at your mercy. Use me."

You sigh. You know what she's doing, she's throwing you a bone. She's taking pity on you. It stings your pride, to be sure, but you won't refuse what she's offering. Still…

You spy the lockpick lying on the floor and lean past Maggie, picking it up, enjoying how she twists her body to rub her breasts along your arm. You palm the lockpick, hiding it under your tongue, and reposition before her, meeting her expectant gaze. When you kiss her, it's like you're melting against her, your tongues fervently caressing each other, drinking of each other. Your mind is filled with no thoughts but of her and you kiss her desperately, passionately, longingly. You're panting when you release the kiss, and to your gratification you see Maggie's face is as flushed as yours, her tails wagging in excitement. Naked, kneeling, hands behind her back, brazenly displaying her inhuman beauty to you, Maggie is such a sight that your mouth is dry with desire, and it takes you a few moments before you can swallow and try to speak… which is when you realise that you swallowed the lockpick. You stifle your sigh, and lean forward to pick up Maggie's brooch-

"Darling?"

"Yes, Maggie?"

"Did you swallow the lockpick?"

"...I don't know what you're talking about."

"Johnny."

You meet Maggie's eyes, sighing. "We both know the answer to that."

She doesn't laugh, not out loud, but her tails are shaking in that way that tells you she's howling at the moon. You just sigh and shake your head ruefully. You kiss Maggie again, maneuvering both yourselves to a standing position. Carefully, reverently, you guide your wife to the chair, seating her. She gives you a quizzical look.

"I'm at your mercy, my lord," she reminds you." "For you to indulge yourself with, to depravedly enjoy."

"I know," you tell her, and you press the brooch into her hands, angling the point into the handcuff lock. As understanding blossoms on her pleased face, you give her a small nod.

You kneel between her legs and you worship your goddess, wholly focused on offering her your devotion, all thoughts driven out of your head, save one:

Oh shit, what am I getting her for Christmas?

[X] Expand your investigation team


You consider your three options, to have Daniel personally resume the SA-Caledfwlch investigation, expand your investigation team, or to investigate the anonymous lead. All of these are worthwhile choices, but you can only pick one option, and you have to act judiciously.

You reject resuming the SA-Caledfwlch investigation; while you'd much prefer to have Daniel running that assignment as his loyalty to you is unquestionable, he's right; you need him here and he's been away from you for too long. You'll just have to roll the dice on Major Yamashiro and her team. You might not fully like it, but you'll just have to deal with it. That's life.

Choosing between expanding the investigation team and investigating the anonymous lead is less straightforward. Both options have compelling reasons behind them. The anonymous lead is implied to be time-sensitive… but that could also be maskirovka to entice you into a trap. In terms of sensitivity, in critical importance, the lead is so much more critical than expanding your investigation team, but if you don't spend the time to expand your team now, when will you get the time to do it? The middle of the next crisis would be the worst time to do that.

You sigh, and then sit up, your decision made. "Daniel," you command. "I want you to focus on expanding the investigation team. I still think that the lead is something worth following up on, but we can't be running from one fire to the next. There will never be a perfect time; we don't get to put the Empire in refit and then use that time for training up. Let's move forward with expanding our team. And while we're at it, I want to recruit two investigation team leaders, so that in the worst case, we can have three active investigations ongoing."

"Yes, ma'am," nods Daniel. "I've already made some preliminary enquiries to that effect. I'll assemble dossiers for you, with my choices." He hesitates, considering. "There's something to consider, Your Highness. How long do you want me to spend on recruiting efforts?"

"Not too long, but long enough," you say. "We need to be quick about this, but at the same time, I want to get things right on the first shot."

"Get it right the first time, every time," muses Daniel, quoting one of Fleet Admiral Chew's favorite maxims. "I already have a pool of promising candidates. I'll proceed to vetting them and then approaching them and making the pitch. I'll work with Kitakami on the hiring packages, then present you the budget and paperwork for your review next week while I vet the candidates."

"A solid plan, Daniel. Let's get it done."



You spend the next week reviewing Ahri's work, and thinking about her study plans for the next months. Following Uncle Johnny's suggestion, you bring Ahri to your house for a long weekend, a chance to get out of the palace and stretch her legs: a reward for being obedient and doing her work. An opportunity for her to relax and rest, to spend the day by the pool and take a break from being Empress Meigyoku, where she can just be Ahri, visiting her cousin Yui.

As promised, Uncle Johnny comes to visit. Your black and red three-piece draws a raised eyebrow from him. "Huh. I had even odds you'd be wearing a Navy swimsuit."

"Mummy persuaded me, and Ahri likes it," you shrug.

"Likes it so much she got a matching swimsuit," he muses. "That's a message, isn't it? Usually women can't abide wearing the same dress as another woman."

"It's a social dominance thing, and if you're wearing the same dress as your rival, you're liable to be mistaken for her."

"Hence wearing a different dress every time. Or bikini." He purses his lips. "Her ribs aren't as prominent as before."

"She's eating a bit better now. It's a slow process."

"Ame-no-Mihashira wasn't built in a day," he agrees. "Alright, I'll go setup and start prep."

"Didn't you bring a swimsuit? Spend some time in the pool, I know you love swimming."

"Yui, please," scoffs your godfather. "Nobody wants to see me in a swimsuit. I myself don't want to see me in a swimsuit. You carry on and have fun, and I'll call you when it's time to start cooking."

You spend the rest of the day in the pool, only coming out with Ahri when Uncle Johnny calls you to cook early dinner, putting on a poolside barbeque. He's right that he isn't the most skilled or accomplished chef, he's certainly not at the caliber of the staff at Huangshan Palace… and yet there is a satisfying homey comfort in his food, as he cooks for you and Ahri. Peanut butter honey toast, grilled sausages, grilled tomato and bacon rolls, meat and vegetable skewers, garlic butter enoki mushrooms wrapped in foil, butter rice with a dollop of soya sauce, steaks… it's nothing fancy or earth shattering. You've all had better food.

But it tastes wonderful, because it's being made by someone who loves you. You can tell Ahri feels the same way, quietly sniffling as she takes a bite. Uncle Johnny pretends not to notice as you hold her hand and she dabs at her eyes with a napkin.

You'll let yourself cry later. When she doesn't need you to be strong for her anymore.

Ahri definitely enjoyed this small staycation, and Uncle Johnny's acquired taste has grown on her, as you knew it would. You can see her relaxing in his presence, hanging off his every word as he teaches her how to cook, as he shares stories of his younger years with Daddy, his patience as he guides her through failed attempts, encouraging her to do better.

His startled, surprised look of pleasure when Ahri accidentally calls him "Uncle Johnny", is a moment you'll treasure forever.




The weekend ends, alas, and you have to return to work. Ahri resumes her studies, and Daniel presents you with his planning.

"I have a preliminary list of candidates of varying specialities. On paper, they all look good, and I'm reasonably confident in them. What I need a decision on is how long to spend on the vetting process, Your Highness.

"A thorough vetting of all candidates would take at least three months, no later than six in total at most. This would let me thoroughly investigate all candidates and be sure that I've identified all red flags, if any. I would also be able to generate additional candidates for the pool within that timeframe.

"Alternatively, I could spend four to six weeks on expedited vetting of the candidates. The advantage is that we could get the teams up and running sooner, but I might not catch any red flags." He purses his lips thoughtfully. "The shorter vetting period also means that anonymous lead's trail might not yet have gone cold, should you still wish for me to investigate that."

"What about mixing the duration and thoroughness of effort?" you ask Daniel. "I want you to be thorough, but we can't afford to spend too much time paralysed on this one task."

"If I'm being thorough with a short vetting period, I'll have a smaller pool of vetted candidates for you, ma'am. The more time I have, the more I can do." Daniel makes a face. "Another potential option might be to reach out to the IRG for assistance with vetting the candidate pool. It would allow the work to progress faster, and more people can do things than just my own self. There's a good chance I can finish in time to investigate the anonymous lead, but you would obviously owe the IRG a favor, and it would give them a glimpse into what we're trying to do."

"Or we could reach out to friends within the Navy," you muse. "We do have contacts outside of 13th Fleet."

"We do, ma'am, but again…" Daniel spreads his hands, making a weighing scale motion. "Asking assistance from outside parties, even within the Navy, introduces another variable into this mix. We would still owe them a favor, and they too would get a glimpse into our activities. I'm sorry to belabor this point ma'am, but I would be remiss if I did not bring it to your attention. Ultimately, the decision is yours, Your Highness."

"That's fair, Daniel, and your diligence is appreciated."


How long will Daniel spend to vet the candidates?

[ ] Short duration
[ ] Long Duration

How thorough should Daniel be?

[ ] Expedited Vetting
[ ] Thorough Vetting

Will you reach out for third party assistance, at the cost of an unspecified favor? (Will turn Long Duration into Short)

[ ] Request IRG assistance
[ ] Request Navy assistance
[ ] Do not request assistance