Akira stroked his chin, smiling to himself in devilish glee at Lorica's sudden shift in demeanor.
"So you're calling me 'Master' now, hm?"
"Master," Lorica repeated, bowing her head once more as she regained her feet. "The only way to lower the [Battle Dome]..."—she looked up sharply at Akira—"is for a contest to be decided between the two [Pocket Maids] locked inside."
Akira blinked. "Eh? You mean we just have to finish the battle."
Lorica positioned herself behind Cindy: blushing, with an expression of a vacant, dreamlike stare and pouty lips ajar shared across both of their blushing faces. Nestling the side of her face against the Forbidden's neck and shoulder, that glistened with sweat; cupping their minuscule breasts in her palms.
"There is a much faster way, Master…"
She traced a finger, downward, along Cindy's lean bare torso until—
