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Recap of night of submission, light domination, & fun.
"An efty again. That does beat a double thisac, doesn't it?" he asked tentatively, willing it not to be so if that would wipe the scowl off Yeval's face.
Yeval was silent for a moment, but it was obvious that Gude did know that an efty beat a double thisac, so she just grunted and gave Gude a sour look.
Gude didn't want to push the point, though, so all he asked Yeval to do was to remove her hair comb, which she did with a small smile, shaking her head as she did and making Gude catch his breath and feel warm inside at the sight of the luxurious raven-black curls cascading around her face.
Then Gude turned to the sphere and contemplated it. He placed his hands over the globe and waved them a bit, and the slowly spinning sphere responded to him. The colors were changing. The blue was getting bluer and a brownish-green was separating from the blue, until there were distinct areas of blue and then of the brownish-green.
Gude then gave a little laugh, being pleased by the effect he had made, and he looked back at where the light was coming from, his attention caught by the play of the alternating areas of light and shadow on the sphere.
While Gude wasn't looking at the sphere, Yeval leaned over with a scowl on her face and petulantly punched at both sides of the sphere with her small fists, causing lumps to rise on a couple of the brownish-green sections. She was going to hit it again, but just managed to pull her fists back and replace her scowl with a beatific smile as Gude looked back at her.
With an apologetic look on his face, Gude picked up the firop and cast it again.
"Ah, that's a lot of nothing," he muttered as Yeval chortled.
Then Yeval grabbed up the firop and cast it with a fling of her wrists. "A thrice ewat. That beats you four ways from gesplot. Off with the trousers."
"The trousers? That's not how it's usually done. A shoe or something. This is supposed to be a progressive type of game. Slower, you know."
"The trousers. I get to pick." Yeval didn't even look at Gude as he shrugged and started to untie his sash. Her attention was taken by the sphere and what she could inflict on it. After a moment of contemplation, she leaned over and blew hard on it in separate puffs of breath. Areas of the blue retracted and sections of the brownish-green areas turned a dead brown color.
When Yeval looked back at Gude, she was pleased. He was well uncovered now, and had a hard body that made Yeval feel tingly inside and thinking all sorts of interesting thoughts.
Gude blushed and reached for the firop, but Yeval lashed out with her claws and took it up. "You forget. I won that round. So I cast first."
"Sorry," Gude said and pulled his hands back guiltily. The sorrow on his face was genuine. He had been disconcerted by the lecherous look Yeval had given him-and particularly so, as he felt himself stirring inside.
Paying no heed to Gude's distress, Yeval cast the firop hard and then hooted. "A virmic. I got a virmic. You needn't even cast. Nothing beats a virmic."
"Well, if I cast and got a virmic too-"
"Nope, whoever casts one first overrides all. I win this round."
"I don't know. I'm not sure that's-"
"You're not thinking of cheating again, are you, Gude? Thinking that since I'm female and you're male, you can just-?"
"Oh, no, no, sorry," Gude broke in, much in distress. "It's OK, you win. Don't cry. You win."
"Very well, then. You can lose that breechcloth while I decide what to do with the sphere."
"The breechcloth?" The words almost stuck in Gude's throat. "But . . . but, it's too soon to-"
"I get to decide. Those are the rules of the game. Of course, if you want to go all 'I'm man, I know best' on me-"
"No, no," Gude said meekly.