Story: Britannian Breeding

 

One might imagine that having Milly Ashford as part of your harem is only a good thing. She's pretty, charismatic, and open to sharing. Kinda horny. Pardon, that was the wrong word to use: Ravenously horny. Yes, much better. However, as Shirley, Kallen, and ostensible head of the haremLelouch were all about to learn, where Milly Ashford was involved things were rarely simple.

Lelouch stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, his arms flung wide across the mattress. He had faced the might of the Britannian Empire. He had outmaneuvered generals with decades of experience and rewritten the laws of loyalty with a glance of his violet eyes. He was a master of the board, a conductor of chaos. Yet, as he listened to the distant, rhythmic thumping of footsteps in the hallway, he felt a genuine tremor of apprehension.

The door flew open as if surrendering to the one that had pushed it. Milly Ashford swept into the room, a whirlwind of blonde hair and expensive perfume that smelled of crushed peonies and mischief. She didn't stop until she was looming over him, her shadow blotting out the ceiling light.

"My dearest, most besieged Vice President," Milly chirped, her voice a melodic chime that usually preceded a catastrophe. "I trust you've had time to process the news of my induction?

Lelouch sat up slowly, rubbing his temples. "Process it? Milly, you didn't just join a group. You turned my social existence into a gambling circuit. I'm reasonably sure there's a betting pool on which day of the week I'll have a nervous breakdown.

Milly giggled, a sound that lacked any hint of apology. She sank onto the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. She leaned in, her eyes sparkling with a hunger that had nothing to do with the melonpan she'd been eating earlier.

"That's the beauty of it, Lulu! The stakes make the reward so much sweeter." She reached out, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw with a slow, deliberate pressure. "And I've heard... whispers. From Shirley. From Kallen. They say you possess certain... talents. Skills that transcend the ordinary.

Lelouch felt the familiar shift in his own composure. He had discovered this "talent" almost by accident - a biological fluke or perhaps a dormant extension of his charisma that manifested only in the most intimate of settings. It wasn't Geass, but the results were similarly absolute. When he touched a woman, the world narrowed to a single point of intensity. He didn't merely satisfy them; he dismantled their defenses, leaving them in a state of pliable, shimmering devotion.

"Whispers are often exaggerated," Lelouch replied, his voice dropping an octave. "I would think you know better than to trust idle gossip. Especially where I am concerned."

Milly's pupils dilated. She leaned closer, her breath warm against his skin. "I've always been a fan of empirical evidence. I find that theoretical discussions are dreadfully dull. Don't you agree?

"I do," Lelouch murmured. His gaze flickered down. He'd tried to avoid looking at Milly this way. He really had, but now that she was actively throwing herself at him, he really had no choice in the matter, did he?

He moved with a sudden, fluid precision, his hand snapping out to catch her waist and pulling her flush against him. The suddenness of the movement stole her breath, replacing her smug confidence with a sharp, audible gasp.

"Wait," a voice drawled from the doorway. C.C. stood there, leaning against the frame, a slice of cheese pizza held precariously in one hand. She looked bored, but her golden eyes were tracking the scene with a flicker of amusement. "The welcoming committee is here," C.C. announced. "And by committee, I mean the two girls who set this mess up in the first place."

Behind C.C., Shirley and Kallen filed in. Shirley looked hopeful, her cheeks flushed a permanent shade of pink. Kallen looked like she was trying to decide whether to enter the room or set it on fire.

"Is she already trying to monopolize him?" Kallen asked, crossing her arms. "We had a rotation agreed upon, Milly."

Milly didn't move from Lelouch's grip, though she cast a triumphant glance over her shoulder. "Rotation? Kallen, darling, a rotation is for tires. This is a harem. We need a hierarchy. A structure. A... let's call it a 'Management System'."

Shirley blinked. "Management system? I thought we were just... you know... loving Lelouch together."

"How quaint," Milly sighed, finally pulling back just enough to look at the other girls. "Love is the foundation, yes, but logistics are the superstructure. If we simply 'love together,' we have anarchy. We have scheduling conflicts. We have the potential for tragic, soap-opera-style clashes in the hallway!"

Lelouch sighed, sliding off the bed. "I am right here. I am a sentient human being, not a piece of communal property to be managed by a spreadsheet."

Milly stood up, her expression suddenly grave. She reached into her blazer and produced a neatly folded piece of parchment. She snapped it open with a flourish.

"Behold: The Ashford Harem Charter, Version 1.0."

Kallen stepped forward, squinting at the document. "Is that... a points system?"

"Exactly!" Milly beamed. "To ensure equity and maximize Lelouch's efficiency, we shall implement a meritocracy. Points are awarded for initiative, emotional support, and-of course-performance in the bedroom. High-scoring members earn 'Priority Access' weekends and the right to choose the movie for Friday night."

"I refuse," Lelouch said flatly.

"Oh, Lulu, don't be such a spoilsport," Milly teased, circling him like a predator. "Think of the order! The harmony! No more guessing who gets which night. No more awkward tension in the student council room. Just a streamlined, high-performance engine of affection."

"This is insane," Kallen muttered, though she didn't look away from the charter. "Wait, what does 'Bonus Points for Public Displays of Affection' mean?"

"It encourages bravery!" Milly declared.

Shirley looked distressed. "But I don't want to compete for Lelouch. I just want him to be happy!"

C.C. took a slow bite of her pizza, chewing thoughtfully. "She's already too far gone, Shirley. Milly has turned this into a game. And in a game, the person who writes the rules usually wins."

Lelouch looked at the four women. He had intended for this to be a strategic asset-a way to secure loyalty and create a sanctuary of trust amidst the war he was waging against the world. He had underestimated the sheer, concentrated energy of Milly Ashford. Which is impressive when you considered that he already knew not to underestimate her and had raised the bar quite a bit already.

"Fine," Lelouch said, a dangerous glint entering his eyes. "If we are playing a game, then we shall play by the rules of strategy. But if I am the 'asset' being managed, I reserve the right to veto any clause I find disagreeable."

Milly's smile widened. "A challenge! I love it when you get all 'Imperial' on us."

The atmosphere in the room shifted. The humor remained, but a new, electric tension settled over them. It was the tension of a hunt. Milly stepped into Lelouch's personal space again, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"So, tell me, Lulu. Since I'm the new recruit... Do I get an orientation? A private tutorial on the... specifics of your talents?"

Kallen stepped forward, her voice sharp. "Hey! We haven't even discussed the first week's schedule!"

"The schedule can wait," Milly purred, her hand sliding down to grip the hem of Lelouch's shirt. "I believe in hands-on learning."

Lelouch didn't answer with words. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of Milly's neck, just below the ear. He applied a precise, rhythmic pressure, a technique he had refined to trigger an immediate systemic collapse of willpower.

Milly's breath hitched. Her eyes fluttered, and for the first time since entering the room, her voice failed her. A small, soft moan escaped her lips, and her knees buckled slightly.

"My," C.C. remarked, leaning back. "He's getting faster."

Shirley gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "Lelouch!"

Kallen groaned, though her face was bright red. "Dammit. I hate how that works. Now I have to wait for my turn."

Lelouch leaned in, his lips brushing Milly's ear. "The orientation begins when I decide it begins, Milly. You may write the charter, but I am the one who executes the policy."

Milly shivered, her entire body trembling under his touch. The "manager" had been momentarily dismantled. She looked up at him, her expression a mix of shock and absolute, ravenous desire.

"I... I think I can accept those terms," she whispered.