Elsa & Lee Work

I had a job. Technically I even had a Huntsman's license, even if it was from the false life I'd stepped into when I came to this world.

I didn't work as a Huntsman, though. I worked for the White Fang. I'd get marching orders - go here, take care of that, do this - and I'd do them without too much concern about the whats and the whys. It could only make me less effective, if I cared about the long-term results, since Susie had decided to make sure I was compliant by limiting my powers to only work when I was doing 'evil.' Whatever vague definition that used, it meant I tended to get the dirtier jobs.

The fact that my close subordinate (slave, but they didn't know it) was Elsa Granhilte, battle maniac who was known as the Bowel Hunter in her original world due to her love of disemboweling people, probably didn't hurt. I let her loose when we had people to kill, such as tonight.

* * *

Elsa Granhilte perched herself on the edge of one of the tall, concrete buildings so common to this world, her eyes peering down at the people below. She knew the vague details of why she was being allowed to kill them - something about crossing the White Fang in a business deal? - but she didn't care too much for the specifics. All that really mattered was that they were members of a criminal gang, which might mean they were going to be marginally harder than ordinary people. She simply slid down the side of the building, giving one jump at the last second and arcing out with two knives that cut into the guts of two of the men in question. They predictably collapsed, and she would have so loved to watch them die, but she had things to do, people to kill.

Lee - her master - emerged shortly after she got her first kill, keeping his distance and starting to monologue. "Your bosses really pissed off the White Fang, it seems like," he declared in a tone of voice that was clearly intended to piss off everybody there, feeding his Semblance with their negative emotions. "I'd rather gut your bosses, but that can be problematic, so you're the ones who are going to have to pay the price. Too bad you're such a bunch of spineless wimps and I won't even have to involve myself in fighting you."

The more they hated him, were angry at him, feared him, were disgusted by him - in short, the more negative emotions towards him they felt - the stronger he'd get. The longer the fight dragged out, the stronger he'd get. Elsa didn't really care about any of that, though. She cared about the white-garbed man with the sword in front of her, a criminally-aligned Huntsman of some type, his Aura glistening with each strike the pair exchanged, the sharp press of blade against blade a true delight. She caught his sword against her knife, tried to twist around to cut off his arm, but he managed to dodge and pull back from that.

He didn't speak, didn't monologue, which was nice. She loved to read the hearts of her opponents in their footsteps and their swordplay, rather than their words.

Not as much as she liked to read their hearts in the way they responded to getting carved open, of course. But it was still nice, seeing how he danced around, the seriousness in his gaze, the way he occasionally glanced over at the still-monologuing Lee, who appeared to be inviting contempt by just stepping on the bodies of the dead and declaring how much of a bunch of pussies they were, to get killed so easily by a woman, and he didn't even have to do anything, and on and on and on. It honestly annoyed even her a little, but she supposed that was just to his benefit.

A second Huntsman arrived in the midst of her duel with the first; she managed to clasp her ankles around his thigh for a moment, twisting her whole body to send him hurling off towards Lee. Her master could handle the man. He'd interrupted her dance with her current partner.

* * *

As the body of the Huntsman was hurled towards me, I supposed it was about time to stop playing with the food. Elsa wouldn't have sent him this way if she could have handled them both on her own, after all.

"You're interrupting me, that's rude, you know?" I said, playing the role of the monologuing jackass to a T. It was fun, honestly. My Semblance meant I could actually feel the mood of the crowd lower the more I said nasty things.

I had mostly been reliant on ordinary, mundane animals to expand my repertoire - Grimm were hard to eat, especially the good ones - but nevertheless, my body twisted up into something truly monstrous, fingers turning into great claws, wings rippling out from my back, a long, barbed tail slithering around and around as muscle layered on muscle and Aura and Semblance boosted it all.

I was on my opponent in a heartbeat, just ramming into him with overwhelming speed and force. He gasped in surprise at the power I brought to bear, the way I suddenly shifted from the taunting, monologuing villain to the monster. He had some kind of spear, and grimaced as I grabbed it in one powerful arm, twisting it away from me, leaving him open and undefended. He actually wound up abandoning the thing to leap back from melee - then just kept running.

"Coward! Go on, run home to your boss! Tell him that his men are dead, humiliated and killed by the White Fang! Be sure to describe the faunus who did all this!" For some reason, stealing credit for Elsa's kills always gave me a tiny extra power boost. Maybe because Elsa didn't like it. Maybe because it pissed off whoever I was talking to, that I was such a narcissistic glory hound. Probably it was both.

Since I'd already entered combat mode, I lunged in to help Elsa out, even going so far as to grapple the Huntsman in question and expose him to her. The woman loved to disembowel, after all, and never get between a woman and the things she loves. She licked her lips as the freshly-disemboweled Huntsman hit the ground in a wet thump, twitching and gasping as his intestines splattered on the ground wetly.

Elsa watched the whole thing with wild, lustful eyes, licking her lips hungrily as the man's life slowly faded from him. "I love this so much," she monologued, a woman after my own heart. "Seeing the life slowly fade out of a person... reading their entrails like an oracle..." She shivered softly as the man's life faded completely, going limp, his eyes unseeing. "The moment they die."

Her eyes turned up to me, a warmth and eagerness in them that spoke to lust and desire on her part. Maybe her brain came pre-fucked like this, or maybe some part of how my commands had layered themselves over her preexisting personality was to blame, but the end result was that after killing, she always really wanted to fuck. I dragged her with me over to a nearby alleyway, just tearing at her clothes and slamming inside her waiting cunt. She was drenched, letting out a low moan into the wall as I thrust inside her. If there normally wasn't any point to being gentle, with Elsa, that fact became true in triplicate. She was a maniac who wanted to get fucked hard, she loved battle and the pain that came with getting hit. She actually disliked Aura because of the way it stifled and hid the pain of combat wounds.

I just went in on her. My balls wetly slapped against her thighs as I rammed away. I tugged on her hair, enjoying as that beautiful face of hers contorted in lewd pleasure almost immediately, as my slaps and spanks of her ass served only to intensify her pleasure. Each thrust made her cheeks grow that bit more a sharp shade of red, made another few droplets of saliva dribble down out of her mouth lewdly, and it made her cunt clamp down on my dick as she orgasmed hard, her whole body spasming lewdly, thrashing about beneath my forceful penetrations.

"Fuck, you are one horny little murderslut, aren't you?" I breathed out in the woman's ear, and she just nodded, lost in her pleasure for the moment. Or possibly forever, for how long her orgasm was going on. "Aren't you glad I still let you kill people?" Again, another nod, her pussy gripping my dick still tighter as I just pushed her into the wall, pressing the bare flesh of her cleavage against the stone wall. "I could stop fucking you any time I felt like it. I have a new sex slave now." I was just bullshitting, but I wanted to see the great Elsa Granhilte's response to those words. Would she desperately plead for my cock? Something else? Hopefully the first thing.

It took her a bit to gather enough of her senses to offer a meaningful response, panting against the wall as she shifted her weight, a bit of drool running down her lower lip. "Kuh, keep fucking, me, it feels, so goo~ood." She had this really erotic way of speaking, her voice husky with need and desire, her tongue slithering hungrily across her lips. "Especially after a good kill," she added, almost exuding the words as a soft little pant, another few droplets of spit running over her lower lip, her eyes unfocusing as she orgasmed again.

I just kept on using her, enjoying that flexible, pliant, sexy body. She was fucking wasted in Re:Zero, the hot bitch could orgasm fifty fucking times on my cock in a single go if I tried to hold back. There, she'd just been a murder hobo and villain that got unceremoniously killed. Here, she got to come her brains out after killing whoever I told her to, just like a good little fuckpet should. I ran my fingers through her hair, petting her, and a grin crossed my lips. "That's a good fuckpet," I told her. "You're a good little human pet for your faunus master, aren't you?"

She couldn't speak by that point, not with the intensity with which I was fucking her, but that was just fine with me. I made her nod with a grip on her head, enjoying the implicit humiliation - all the more because she clearly didn't give a fuck. "Aren't you thankful that I made you my pet?" I hadn't actually chosen her, Susie had, but whatever. "You're so fucking lucky, you should be thankful," I said, as she spasmed on my cock in a fresh orgasm, her juices drooling all over the ground beneath us.

After a couple dozens orgasms on her part, I finally came inside her, just leaving a thick quantity of cum in her pussy as she quivered and slunk down the wall to her knees, scraping along it lewdly, her cheek pressed against it, her eyes lidded with lust. It was a temptingly hot show, but I did have other things to do, so I grabbed her under one arm and just hefted her up, carrying her like a sack of cement away.

By the time we arrived at our destination - the hotel room we had rented - Elsa had recovered enough to stand on her own two feet and get herself properly attired again. She was soon dangling off my arm like a hot date.

We weren't going on a hot date, though. No, I'd been tracking somebody down for the past few weeks, and this mission had brought me to Mistral, where said somebody hung out. I'd felt it was better to leave Tyuule and Emerald back at our home, since Emerald was still new to being my sex slave, and Tyuule could keep a better eye on her at home than out in the middle of some foreign city.

"So, who are we killing next, Master?" She asked, her tongue flashing out to lick her lips.

"We're not killing anybody else." I didn't have to say more than that - her standing orders kept her from killing or attacking people without my explicit permission, for obvious reasons. "No, we're looking for another recruit. A bit different from Emerald, though. No, this one will become a mole for me at Beacon Academy." I didn't even really know why I was bothering telling Elsa this - it's not like she could come along, since she got off on scaring people and my current plan involved around not scaring this one. At least not until he was branded.

* * *

Jaune Arc sneezed.