I gave the wily wench Dakota the option to lay down to avoid certain difficulties. She took me up on the offer and reclined on a rundown couch in her office. Megan and Sally were hanging around with matching looks of anticipation. Either they didn't like Dakota very much or they liked her a little too much. Hmm.

I pulled a chair over beside the couch and plopped down. Truth be told even with a few casts of Regrowth snuck in here and there I was feeling a bit run down. Maybe I've been working a little too hard, not enough sleep. But there was too much to get done to really relax.

Eh, not like I had a choice. Not really. I wanted the best for people in general and even better for MY people.

Weird thought that, my people. Who the fuck was I to have people?

Nah, been down this rabbit hole before. Getting too caught up in my thoughts and concerns. Focus on the moment. I have a crazy lady to heal.

I place my right hand on Dakota's stomach. As the first pulse of my mana crashed through her body I was starting to get a sense of how unbelievably messed up she really was under all that odd rambling.

Botched cyberware damaging the organs around them. Followed by so many residual injures that never healed completely. Gunshots wounds, blade damage, and the leftovers of massive impact trauma. Her lungs were garbage, seared by chemical cocktails and it felt like actual fire damage. Lastly her digestive system was barely held together by hope and prayer. No telling want did all this mess. Did she swallow razor blades at some point?

"This is going to take a while. Brace yourselves." I started muttering about stupid doctors and crazy bitches letting themselves get wrecked this bad, as I dug deeper into the Regrowth spell than ever before. I started to instinctively alter the shape of the mana flow and poured every bit of energy I could fit through the new shape.

Yes, that worked much better. The mana seemed to almost have a will of its own as it rampaged through her body. A primal hatred of the injures and a desire to fix the broken flesh resonated within the flows of quintessence. I lost myself in the task, trying to wrangle the energy to focus on one injury at a time.

Her voice was rising in pitch and volume, heh. Let's see how like a coyote you really are.

The world faded out as I increased my concentration on the spell.

When I became aware of my surrounding again, I heard a hoarse voice groaning and grunting in ecstasy. The body under my hand jerked and twitched in involuntary reactions to being overwhelmed in mana induced pleasure.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"You're back with us? Good. You really worked her over good. She didn't stop howling the whole two hours you where working on her." Megan was running her fingers through my hair.

"Hahaha! I love it, you marvelous bastard. The legendary Dakota screaming like a new XBD porn starlet. Next target, Rogue herself." Sally gave me a crushing hug, I didn't mind.

"Who's Rogue?" I was a bit woozy after burning all that mana. Also I felt cold, an effect I had notice from overuse of magic. I'll have to look into that later.

Both ladies started cracking up. "She only the most preem and baddest bitch in all of Night city. She owns the Afterlife THE place for the best mercs and runners in the city and maybe the world." Megan started rubbing the tips of my ears. Nice, I really liked that.

"We could end up there someday soon. Especially once you start making waves, She'll want you under her thumb. Don't let her play you." Sally growl at the thought of this Rogue getting her hands on me.

I stared at the mess I'd made of Dakota, who still spasmed in a gurgling tangle. I was curious if she would thank me or curse me when she regained her senses. Could go either way. If she did end up cursing me at least she'd be doing it with a healthy body. She already looked years younger, another side effect of healing most women would be thankful for, I hoped.

Sally and Megan both looked almost eighteen again. I had started looking like a baby faced version of me, as well.

I won't lie, it made me feel both fulfilled and yet eager to grab Sally and Megan and rush home to express some more interesting sounds. The last few times the ladies had, after some conversation, made sure not to leave me hanging after our fun time. I was quite over having testicle cramps after our sessions. Thankfully they took a certain level of satisfaction from seeing how much they could get me to react to their ministrations, though it always turned into pushing my limits to see if I would loose control and ravage them. One day, and probably soon, I would give in and take them, but not yet.

I wanted something from them first and to have something to give them before we took that last step into a deeper relationship. I'd also would like to know that everything was as safe for them as could be before we lost ourselves in the dance of passion.

For now, hands and mouths were enough. In the depths of my darker thoughts, I enjoyed knowing I could turn them into puddles of mush at my whim while they had to work hard to achieve anything approaching similar results. Mana was like cheating at life, and I loved it. I supposed I wasn't as much of a good guy as I had thought.

Sometimes, I wondered if it was the classes affecting my mentality. A more primal nature from the Druid class, the desire to experiment and refine results from the Warp-Smith, physical dominance from the Paladin. While I had never been a push over, I certainly seemed to be getting more aggressive as my time here progressed. How far would it go?

I was loath to bother Meadran with my concerns unless it was a critical problem. He needed rest after his transfer here, and time to absorb more mana, to integrate fully with this world. I didn't know how I knew that, it was a idea that rose up when I thought of him, and I had no reason to doubt it.

Faergin would soon be rooting as well, another thought that just shifted from the void.

Lumi, when I brought it up, said I worried too much. His mindset was Power was good, control was good. Being the one with both was best.

Raynor had just snorted at me, saying "Don't worry, Hoss. You go bad and I have this great rifle you gave me."

He was joking, right?