Random futa things

by Jokiba

Just as the title says pure smut

50. Ascent to Divinity is Lewder

This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder Than Expected

winterwhereof

Summary:

Levels. Skills. Dungeons.

As a nineteen year old living in modern society, these are terms Zoey is aware of. But had she ever expected to experience these videogame abstractions in the literal sense? To struggle through monster-infested realms, earning skills, casting spells, and acquiring rare and magical items?

Obviously not.

And more than the strange environment she finds herself in, Zoey contends with the bizarre reality of her class. Of being summoned by a sensual, perverted goddess who has gleefully bestowed a throbbing length between Zoey's legs, then sent her off with a single unhelpful instruction: to save the world, and ascend to divinity while doing so.

It's all a bit much.

But with so many cute girls to lay conquest to, and a new piece of equipment to help her along the way … well, things could be much, much worse.

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

"Hello? Oh, oh dear. Please wake up. I know my memory editing skills are rusty, but surely you're intact. Hello?"

The soft, concerned words floated from down a long hallway, from across a chasm, a world over, or somewhere even farther. They bounced around in the recesses of her mind, and Zoey stirred.

Or tried to.

"Oh," the soft exclamation of surprise came. "That's it, you'll be fine." A series of gentle pats on her cheek, which Zoey only half felt. "Come on, now. What's a little magical brain surgery, and dimensional travel? You're a tough cookie. Why do you think I chose you?"

Zoey's head lolled to the side, managing some miniscule form of movement, but still unable to open her eyes. She struggled from the fugue like a woman clawing from a pit of tar. The haze clung to her in sticky black strands, yanking her down as she tried desperately to pull herself to consciousness.

Several more pats on her cheek, sharper this time. Enough to leave a sting. "Up and at 'em. We've things to discuss, sweetheart, and I'm a busy goddess."

The words, and her stinging cheek, acted as the catalyst she needed. Zoey groaned, and her eyes fluttered open.

She stared into the warm, smiling face of an angel.

"There you are," the achingly beautiful woman said, relief plain on her face. "Had me worried for a second, if I'm being honest."

Even if Zoey hadn't woken from what felt like a hundred-year nap, she wouldn't have managed a more eloquent response than what stumbled out of her mouth.

"What?"

Enormous, white-feathered wings folded behind the woman's back, as if her form, and dress, hadn't been ethereal enough. Her inhumanity laid in plain sight, and Zoey meant that in the most flattering way possible. Humans had flaws. The creature in front of her did not. A flowing dress of diaphanous fabric draped from her shoulders and hips, so thin the woman might as well have been naked. Zoey could see everything. She might've blushed if not for how she stared dumbly, her brain failing to understand, even in part, what she was seeing.

"I realize you're disoriented," the woman said, "but that's to be expected, so please don't worry. Mortals aren't built for interdimensional travel. I lent you some of my essence … but mortals aren't meant for that, either." A laugh, light and airy, which stole Zoey's breath, as everything about the woman did. "Trading big problems for smaller ones. What's the life of the divine, if not that?"

"What?" Zoey repeated. She didn't stutter this time, at least, though she would have preferred to come off marginally more composed. She tried again. "Where am I? Who are you?" Zoey looked around, tearing her gaze from the heavenly being in front of her, an action that burned an inexplicable instinct inside her, like she'd performed a great blasphemy for doing so.

It took a second to place where she was: somewhere she hadn't been in forever. By the nostalgic plastic red chairs and single-unit wooden desks with cubbies underneath, she'd ended up at Riverwood Elementary. Miss Paulson's 3rd grade science class, to be specific, identified by the back wall, where a diagram of the solar system expanded outward, each planet neatly labeled and sloppily drawn by her classmates. Zoey had been the one responsible for Mars. Being generous to herself, it was only mildly worse than the rest.

"The name I was given," the woman said, surprising Zoey, who had been briefly startled from where she'd woken at, "is Ephythithys. But Ephy is fine, since I realize the former's a mouthful." She smiled. "For your first question … I'm not sure. This place came from your memories." She tapped a slim finger against her lips, looking around the room. "Somewhere important to you, I assume."

"It's … Miss Paulson was my favorite teacher, growing up. And I liked science class …" she trailed off, then shook her head. "Why am I here? What's going on?" She tried to stand from Miss Paulson's office chair, but she staggered in place, head swimming, then collapsed backward. She skidded a foot or so from the momentum, wheels squeaking loudly in the eerily silent classroom.

Ephy tutted at her. "I'll explain, but don't push yourself. You're still weak from the trip." Her hips swayed in an entrancing rhythm as she closed the gap.

Zoey took note, again, of how little her dress obscured her body.

Ephy ran a hand through Zoey's hair, electrifying where her fingers traced. Zoey's breath caught.

"But you're here," Ephy said, "because I have need of you."

Zoey's eyes flicked to Ephy's practically naked chest, then lower, to her crotch, the blonde hair shaved in a cute heart, and finally back up. Zoey flushed, and Ephy laughed.

"Not in that way, though maybe if we had more time." She tapped Zoey's nose in a playfully scolding way. "Important matters first. Settle down."

Every passing moment only confused Zoey further. Who this beautiful, inhuman woman was, why Zoey was here, and why she'd woken in her third grade science classroom. She racked her brain for how she'd ended up in this situation, and came up with little.

Too little. Her brow furrowed. She couldn't remember anything.

Ephy sat in Zoey's lap, then took her face in both hands. "Stay with me, darling. I'll return your memories in time. I just didn't want you to be distracted."

Having the most gorgeous woman Zoey had ever seen seated across her lap, with a clear view of both her bare chest and crotch, weren't circumstances that could be considered 'distraction-free'. "Making that difficult," she choked out. Even the bizarre claim that she'd 'taken Zoey's memories away' had difficulty piercing that much more primitive interest.

Ephy laughed, then moved her hands from her cheeks upward, curling her fingers into Zoey's short black hair. "As the goddess of sensuality, I'm afraid I can't help myself. But you really ought to focus. What I have to say is," her lips quirked, "rather relevant."

Zoey could tell an understatement when she heard one.

"You need my help," Zoey said. Attempting to puzzle anything out until she'd heard Ephy's piece would, at a guess, be an exercise in futility. She forced herself to focus, to ignore Ephy's warm weight pressing down on her lap, and the scalding proximity of their bodies.

Was the sitting-on-her-lap necessary?

Not that Zoey's less evolved brain was complaining. Just, what was she supposed to do with her hands? Zoey assumed the touching was a one-way thing.

"I needed a champion," Ephy said with a nod.

"For?" She ignored the absurdity of the statement; when faced with the already insane surroundings and circumstances she was in, the words digested easier than they should have.

"To save the world."

A long pause.

"I'm sorry?"

"Not yours, I'm afraid." Her lips quirked. "Or, pleased to reassure you? But one in the cluster I hold dominion."

"Save the world," Zoey repeated.

"And ascend while doing so," Ephy said with a serious nod. "Though those are tall orders, each, and the second more than the first. But I have faith."

Right.

"Why can't I remember anything?" Zoey set aside the insanity of what was coming out of the supposed-goddess's mouth.

"I made some adjustments," Ephy said easily. "Like I said, it's better if you're distraction-free. Your past life doesn't matter for the foreseeable future. Should you succeed, they'll be returned. You have my word."

'Adjustments'. As if she'd gone in and scooped out Zoey's brain.

Was she dreaming? Logic said yes, but everything was too painfully, crystally clear.

Zoey shook her head. "Okay. Okay. Start from the beginning. We're getting nowhere." Despite her claims of violating the sanctity of her mind, Ephy didn't seem like her enemy.

Ephy sighed. "It'll go in circles. Your doubt and confusion is reasonable, but also irrelevant. Let's move to practical matters."

"But I don't know what's going on."

"I've explained enough," Ephy said, shrugging. "You need to come to terms with it, but that won't happen until you have time to rest. But no matter. We need to get to why you're here, speaking with me. I have business to attend to. So. Character creation."

Even for all of the strangeness occurring in quick succession, the incongruent words 'character creation' made Zoey pause.

"I'm sorry. Like a videogame?"

Ephy paused, off-foot for the first time. "I almost forgot. You're from his plane." She said it more to herself than to Zoey. "Yes, like a 'videogame'." The words stumbled from her mouth, like they meant nothing to her, specifically, but rather, a second-hand account, something she'd heard of but never gained an understanding of.

Zoey's headache deepened. How did she manage to become more and more confused, when she'd started off as baffled?

"So," Ephy said. "That's good. I don't need to explain the concept. Are you ready?"

"No?"

"Perfect. Let's start." Ephy climbed off Zoey's lap, and Zoey missed the heat and press of her body immediately, and the gentle, coaxing way she'd been playing with her hair.

She considered trying to stand again, but didn't think she'd have much success. Her head still swam from earlier, and she felt faint.

"First, let's establish some important information."

That'd be a first.

"As the goddess of sensuality and eroticism, the benefits I can afford you will take some … getting used to. But you'll put them to good use, I trust. I picked you because you're a pervert."

"What?" Where the hell had that come from? "No, I'm not. I'm—" She was what? "Normal?"

Ephy didn't acknowledge what she'd said, which was mildly irritating. She couldn't level an accusation like that then say nothing about it. "Let's start with your body. Do you have a preference, or can I choose?"

"What?"

Ephy gave her a disapproving look. "I'm trying to work with you, but if you don't start answering in meaningful ways, I'll take things into my own hands. No more 'whats', 'huhs', and 'what do you means'. Body type. Do you have a preference?"

"For myself?"

Ephy made an irritated noise, then crossed her arms. The expression she leveled Zoey's way was scathingly unimpressed. Where'd the demure, kind woman go? Surely she couldn't be getting impatient … Zoey's confusion was extremely justified, especially when she'd explained so little.

"Yes, for yourself," Ephy said. "This is your last chance."

Zoey bit her tongue on another clarifying question. So. Ignore the absurdity behind Ephy's words, and what she was implying she'd do: change Zoe's body, somehow.

"I like how I am. So, no changes?"

"That's a sweet sentiment, and good for you. But for a champion of mine, I won't take less than perfection. Those hips are going wider, that chest is getting fuller, and you are growing at least a seven-inch cock."

One of those things was not like the others.

"Excuse me?"

Ephy paused at the shock in Zoey's voice. "I suppose I could make an exception," she reluctantly said. "Just, flat chests are attractive in their own right, but for a goddess of fertility, a full bosom is more fitting with—"

"Not that! The—the cock!"

"What about it?" Ephy asked, confused. "How else would you fill your seed into the unexpecting women of the Fractures?"

Zoey sputtered, for more reasons than she could name.

Ephy made a sympathetic sound, as if coming to a realization. "It'll take some adjusting, but you'll grow to like it. It really is such a great sensation, emptying yourself into a cute little conquest as she squirms and spasms against you." Ephy sighed dreamily. "It's almost as good as getting filled up yourself, but I know that's not your thing, and I'm ever the goddess of accomodation. Now! You really are taking too long to get through this. As I said, I'm a busy divinity, and I have matters to attend to. My brothers won't be happy I'm meddling. So last, last chance for input."

"Black hair," Zoey said, somehow pushing away the strangeness of everything—and the apparently mandatory cock she'd be receiving. If this was happening, then she would at least have a say in the matter. "Short, cropped. And, uh, tall. Six foot or more. Lean. Intimidating, not all soft curves."

Ephy pouted. "I feel like you're saying something about me, now."

Zoey pointedly didn't pay attention to all the 'soft curves' Ephy had brought to her attention. Maintaining her focus hadn't gotten much easier. The implied seriousness of the situation was the only thing corralling her attention away from Ephy's sensual figure.

"I'll work with you on that," Ephy said. "But like I said, you're getting hips and a full chest. If you want to be tall, dark, and handsome, I guess I can help you out, but you will look like one of my champions. Now, close your eyes. This'll feel strange."

Zoey closed her eyes, thinking surely this was a dream, a fabrication of her mind … but knowing it wasn't.

Her body started to tingle, then burn. Not painfully, just … uncomfortably. It spread, fire ants crawling across her body, igniting every inch of her skin.

The strangest part was, of course, the tingling in her crotch, then the alien sensation of something starting to grow. Zoey's hips squirmed back and forth as something new took up residence between her legs, growing and growing and growing. Her eyes shot open, unable to help herself, and she watched as the cock expanded upward, harder, bigger, and more pulsing by the second. A thick vein ran up the edge, and Zoey couldn't believe how large it got—then continued to get.

"I thought you said seven inches," Zoey gasped when it finally stopped.

"Lower end," Ephy said sweetly. "But a champion of mine wields the best, and you didn't specify."

"How big is this thing?" Zoey stared down at the monster between her legs. It had to reach up to the base of her breasts, if she leaned over. Breasts which were now three times the size they'd been before … though that only put her somewhere in the upper range of 'busty', because she hadn't had much to write home about, before.

"Hm," Ephy said. "I'd guess … between twelve and fourteen inches?"

Fourteen inches! What the hell? "It won't even fit!"

"I'm not that mean," Ephy scoffed. "It'll fit. You'll just have to figure out how your runes work."

"Runes?"

"Down the road," Ephy said with a wave of her hand. "Once you've landed in the Fractures. Character creation, remember? Your body's done, so now, class."

Zoey hadn't remotely had enough time to come to terms with her body—which, while resembling her old one, was changed in every way—but Ephy pushed forward with enthusiasm, not giving her an opportunity to reel.

Maybe that was the point.

"Three choices. Charmer, Siphon, and Bonder."

It took all of Zoey's effort to focus on the question, and not least because the addition between her legs was even more interested in Ephy's naked form than Zoey had already been, and she'd been exceedingly interested as things stood. It twitched of its own accord, and Zoey fought the excruciating urge for her hands to go to it, to grip and stroke to relieve the pulsating ache.

Why the hell was it so intense? Were all cocks this sensitive?

"What's the difference?" Zoey struggled out.

Ephy seemed aware, and amused, by her plight. She sashayed over, then sat on Zoey's lap. Zoey let out a little groan at the way her cock pressed into Ephy's stomach. "Well," Ephy said, "like I said, they're all derivatives of powers I can offer you as the goddess of seduction. But they're different, yes."

"I thought you said goddess of sensuality," Zoey groaned, fighting against the urge to buck her hips, gain purchase against Ephy's soft stomach. "And eroticism."

Ephy leaned forward, and whispered into Zoey's ear. "Well. I'm a woman of many talents."

"Stop," she gasped, "stop teasing. Why is this so, mmm, intense?"

"Yours is more sensitive than most. Only the best, for champions of Ephythithys." Ephy slid her hips forward, grinding the paper-thin cloth between the two of their crotches. Her lower lips parted into Zoey's shaft, sliding up and down her length.

Zoey's mind flashed white, cock pulsing hard. A foreign urge slammed into her: to grab Ephy by the hips, to shove her to the floor, and bury herself as deep as she could, to piston and jerk until she expended a convulsing cock's worth of hot, sticky seed into Ephy's fertile womb.

C-Christ. Where the hell did that come from?

"How generous of you," Zoey said breathlessly. "And so much for avoiding 'distractions'."

Ephy laughed, probably knowing what was happening inside Zoey's head, and inside her twitching cock. "You'll have plenty of relief, down in the Fractures. But I'm afraid, none from me." Ephy leaned back then flicked the tip of Zoey's dick, which thrilled a lightning bolt of pleasure through her.

"What happened to being in a rush?" Zoey ground out. "Seems to me you have plenty of time, if you're teasing like this."

Ephy laughed. "Oops. I guess you're right. Didn't notice … it's in my nature, okay? Classes. I'll summarize each, but keep in mind nuance is lost in brevity. So. Charmer. Influence people's minds, or those of creatures. Siphon, take other's power for your own. And Bonder." Ephy huffed. "For the gross, gooey romantics. Share yourself with others, and grow with them." Ephy sighed. "I have a feeling what you're going to choose, and I'm not happy about it."

"Charmer sounds … troubling."

"Sensuality cares little for consent," Ephy said with an uncaring shrug. "Don't mistake me for something I'm not."

Zoey paused, the frankness catching her off guard.

" … Bonder," she eventually said. If she was being forced into this—whatever 'this' was—then she'd be taking the least troubling 'class'.

"Shocking," Ephy said with a roll of her eyes. "I hope your time down in the Fractures gives you some … adventurous spirit. But results are all I'm after, so, so be it. Be a gross romantic, if you want." Ephy leaned forward, and Zoey whimpered at the way Ephy's crotch pushed into her throbbing member. "One last choice. Your discipline. A craft, to go with your class. Engraver, alchemist, or blacksmith?"

"And each of these relate to your … mmm … mantle as a goddess, I'm assuming?"

"It's almost like you pay attention."

"So an alchemist would brew potions relating to …"

"All manners of wicked, pleasurable delights," Ephy grinned. Then, sobering, "And more practical matters, in the same way your class will be functional. Saving the world isn't all conquest of tight, nubile bodies, unfortunately. Those are just stepping stones along the way."

"Right." Ephy had a way with words, Zoey was finding out. "They're what they sound like?"

Ephy nodded.

"Then … alchemist?" There was an appeal to the craft that called to her, though the concept of the other two were fascinating as well. It had been a harder choice than her class.

"Perfect," Ephy said. "That's it, then. I'll send you on your way."

Zoey blinked rapidly. "But you haven't told me what I'm supposed to do."

"Didn't I? Save the world. Oh, and don't mention me, or your … home. That could complicate things."

"'Save the world'? That's—that's so unhelpful. What does that even mean?"

"You'll figure it out," Ephy said, patting her cheek for the fourth or fifth time, and this time, it was condescending, rather than comforting. "Stop being a baby. Are you ready?"

"Not remotely—!"

And then she was gone.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

There was no transition. One moment Zoey was talking to the blonde-haired goddess, and the next she opened her eyes to a crammed, tight space, a warm body pressed beneath her. Despite the lack of cognitive shift, she gasped and startled, as if she'd been asleep for a long time and had just jerked to consciousness.

"Shit, you're awake," a foreign, crisply accented voice said. "Calm down. Easy."

Zoey shoved herself up, but she hit her head, stopping her. Her hands shot up to grab at her now-banged head, but those were stuck in place, too.

In fact, as her panic mounted and she started to thrash in place, she discovered she was locked in place. Wherever she'd ended up, the space was compact enough she had zero mobility—or close enough. Zoey didn't have claustrophobia, but who the hell was okay with being crammed so tight they were unable to even move one's hands to their head?

For several moments she panicked in a desperate attempt to escape the dark, tight space she found herself in. Her movements became violent as she flailed. The soft body pressed beneath her yelped, then protested.

"Hey. Hey. Listen to me. I said listen."

The hiss—commanding and infuriated—jerked Zoey out of her panic by dint of intensity alone. She quieted, hyperventilation still in full force, but at least getting a hold of her thrashing.

She blinked down into the piercing blue eyes of her entombed partner.

"Shards are brutal, and oftentimes strange," whoever was pinned beneath her said, "but always fair. We wouldn't have been summoned here only to be provided a slow death with no escape. So stop panicking, and think."

The authority in her voice forced Zoey to do as ordered: to think.

Unfortunately, it was about the cloudy-ice of her pale irises, and the sharp edge of her jaw, the refined accent she spat each of her words with. The delicate, small frame of the person crushed beneath her.

The way their bodies were crammed together.

The way their naked bodies were crammed together.

Breasts, shoved against each other. Stomachs, crotches, thighs, too, a tangle of sweaty limbs, the tiny space suffocating with warmth from their extended sharing.

Zoey's cock twitched.

Her partner of circumstance sucked in a gasp of air as Zoey's member expanded, slowly but steadily filling the space between their stomachs. It was far, far from a subtle thing, with how generous Ephy had been in her bestowal. It engorged with blood until it had stiffened all the way to above their belly buttons. It scalded Zoey's skin, so she assumed it must be doing the same to her partner, that the heat emanating wasn't in Zoey's head.

Her face burned, and by how her partner's eyes had widened, Zoey assumed she had also been shocked out of a response. Though, it was only a natural reaction, considering the position they found themselves in. Or so she assumed … she was hardly a veteran in this whole, cock-wielding profession.

"Well," Zoey eventually said, breaking the stunned silence. "Good news is, I'm not panicking anymore."

"Why the hell are you hard?" her partner shrilled.

"Because I'm crammed, naked, in a dark space with a gorgeous girl stuffed beneath me?"

"And? So what! How dare you! Do you know who I am?"

Do you know who I am? That was an interesting response that had burst from her partner's mouth. It indicated something important, at a guess, though it was low on Zoey's priority list to find out what.

And so much for the calm, assured composure Zoey had been introduced to. Being confronted with a slow death in an underground prison barely large enough to fit two girls wasn't enough to unnerve her, but a cock pressed against her stomach had her stuttering over her words? Her priorities might be disordered.

Not that Zoey was handling things well, either. The awkwardness of their situation burned into her, lighting up her face, neck, shoulders—probably her whole body. Because what a situation. Just, Zoey's discomfort tended to manifest as sarcasm, not a lack of composure. "Where are we?" she asked, ironically the calm one, now. It was a deliberate, strained type of composure, seeing how having the soft, hot flesh of a girl's defined stomach pressed into her cock was excruciatingly difficult to ignore.

"The entrance to a shard, obviously. Now, if you don't mind, get that thing under control."

"Not really a choice I have." The only 'choice' was to not start viciously humping, which every instinct in Zoey's body screamed to do. But however erotic the circumstances she found herself in, Zoey wouldn't do that to a clearly unwilling participant.

"Well, figure it out." The girl beneath her squirmed, wiggling Zoey's cock between their stomachs, and the action wrenched a moan from Zoey's lips. A moan which silenced—and stilled—the other girl.

"Maybe don't do that," Zoey suggested in a sarcastic pant. "Trying to keep things under wraps, remember?"

The rapid breathing of her partner—which hadn't existed until now—pierced the tiny space they were in, louder even than Zoey's.

"Alright," Zoey said. "What's going on?"

"We're stuck," the girl said tightly.

"I've deduced that." Zoey took a calming breath. "What's your name? Mine's Zoey."

"Are you serious?"

"Seeing the situation we're in, I think pleasantries are in order."

A long silence, in which only their panting could be heard.

The girl swallowed. "Rosalie."

"It's nice to meet you, Rosalie."

"Enchanted." Sarcasm dripped from the response, but Zoey forgave it.

"I don't know what's going on," Zoey said. "You said there's a way out?"

"A shard wouldn't just kill us, no alternatives offered, so yes. There has to be."

Zoey shelved the term 'shard'. "You've been awake for a while?"

"Long enough."

"And you couldn't figure anything out?"

"Clearly not. The solution lies with you, since none of my runes are applicable here."

Ephy mentioned those, didn't she? "What are those? Runes, I mean."

A long, disbelieving pause.

"Is that some kind of joke?"

"No."

"You're in the Fractures. In a shard. What do you mean, 'what are runes'?"

"Look, princess," Zoey sighed. "We're buried underground together, with about an inch of breathing room, so how about you humor me?"

Rosalie's response came after a few tense moments. Zoey had stopped supporting her head, instead resting it to the left of Rosalie's, pressing her forehead into the coarse material of whatever casket they found themselves in. She was trying very, very hard to ignore her cock's positioning sandwiched between their bodies, to little success.

"Runes are … the progenitors of skills."

That said nothing of use, not to Zoey. "Skills?"

Another long pause, but Rosalie eventually answered. "Evolving a rune grants skills associated with it. Skills are … the fundamental unit of power for a Wayfarer. An ability, granted by the gods. How we survive in the Fractures, conquer shards, and claim their riches for ourselves and Haven."

To say Zoey was having information dumped on her would be an understatement. Then again, seeing how she'd just had a conversation with the goddess of eroticism, then been dropped into a new world as her champion, that was expected, wasn't it? She tucked away the terms—shards, Wayfarers, skills, runes, Haven, the Fractures—and focused on the immediately relevant.

"And I have those? Skills?" It was more of a prompting question; Ephy had implied she did. At a guess, it would be related to the 'Bonder' class she'd been given.

"All Wayfarers do, the moment they enter the Fractures."

"And you think mine will get us out of here? How do I use them?"

A tense pause. "How are you even here? How could you possibly have managed to delve deep enough into the Fractures to enter a Shard, without knowing how skills work?"

"I don't know," Zoey said honestly. "I can't remember much besides my name." And flashes of her old life, stripped of personal context. Like seeing memories on a t.v. screen.

"Oh," Rosalie said. After adjusting to this announcement—and seemingly believing it, or at least choosing to for now—she said, "Well. Do you at least remember how to draw your tabula anima?"

"Don't even know what that is."

"That could be … a problem."

"Why?"

"Skills are intuitive, but you need to know what they are to use them. And bringing forth one's tabula anima takes practice. Most Wayfarers spend their first week—or several—learning how to draw it, and how to use their skills effectively."

"Guess I'm getting the crash course, then. Skipping the training wheels. What's the rundown?"

Rosalie was quiet for a second. Their asynchronous, mismatched breathing patterns was serving to heave sweat-covered skin across her cock in a consistent rhythm, and the constant stimulation—not to mention the situation itself—meant it wouldn't be going down any time soon.

"There's an easier way," Rosalie said slowly. "I can read your anima myself."

"Oh. Do that, then." Why hadn't she already?

Rosalie studied her with a perplexed expression. Again, Zoey was apprehended by those serious, piercing ice-blue eyes. "Baring one's runes and symbols is a highly personal matter. You don't seem to realize that. Your memory problems, I assume. So make sure you understand what you're offering."

Zoey laughed, the dire circumstances and the concern in Rosalie's words tickling her for a reason she couldn't place. "Of course you're a sweetheart," Zoey said. It made total sense, for some reason, for all the girl's serious, domineering attitude.

"I am not." Rosalie sounded offended Zoey had even suggested it. "It's—it's simply private, intimate information, and your memory is allegedly scrambled. So. I wanted informed consent."

"Pretty sure we're a few steps past sharing 'intimate' information," Zoey said amusedly. Her cock pulsed in emphasis. "So yeah. Go for it. What do we need to do?"

Rosalie huffed. "Skin contact, but I think we have that covered."

Another laugh, shaking her body, which really wasn't doing favors for keeping movement to a minimum, and Zoey's general attempts to ignore her predicament.

"Besides that," Rosalie said, "just don't refuse my request."

"And that means?"

"You'll find out. Close your eyes."

Zoey did so. The conversation stilled, Rosalie focusing on something Zoey couldn't begin to guess at. That lack of distraction—the banter and flood of information—no longer assisted Zoey in ignoring her aching member.

Eventually, a tingle somewhere in the back of her spine appeared, and Zoey's first instinct was to push it away. But it felt artificial, somehow. Like a 'request', as Rosalie had put it, though Zoey couldn't explain how she'd come to that inexplicable conclusion. She didn't fight it.

A second later, Rosalie sucked in a breath of air.

"What?" Zoey asked.

Rosalie didn't reply. Zoey opened her eyes, and saw that Rosalie's own were closed, and her brow was furrowed down in surprise—or concern.

Zoey tried to be patient, but to say her curiosity was killing her would be an understatement. And she would prefer for the distraction of conversation to return. She was trying not to lose herself to the biological, maddening urge to jerk her hips back and forth, to take hot, slippery relief against Rosalie's stomach.

"Well," Rosalie said, eyes still closed. "I believe you're in strange circumstances, as you told me."

"You thought I was lying?"

"You're first evolution on all of your runes," Rosalie said, ignoring her. "It's like you just arrived to the Fractures."

Zoey almost responded 'I did', but as Ephy had instructed her, her involvement with the goddess, and her transmigration from Earth, needed to be kept a secret.

"Evolution?" she said instead.

"How far advanced your runes are."

"It worked? You can see them?"

"I can." Rosalie paused. "I'll read them out for you."

Rune of Bonding

[1: Bond. Release seed onto or inside target and activate skill to form Bond.

[1: Alacrity. Bonded targets evolve runes with less effort.

[1: Bolster. Provides a powerful, temporary boost in strength to Bonded target.

Rune of Arcana

[1: First Circle. Cast spells up to one circle in complexity.

[1: Element: Ice.

Rune of Sensuality

[1: Lust. Mana replaced with alternate resource system Lust. Symbols are activated by expending Lust.

[1: Harvest. Perform erotic acts onto self and others to harvest Lust. Bonded targets provide greater yield.

Rune of the Alchemist

[1: Identify. Ascertain name and use of basic alchemy reagents.

Generalist Skills

[1: Inspect. Discern basic information about equipment linked to the System.

[1: Inventory. Store and withdraw items from inventory-space.

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Zoey sat in stunned silence as she absorbed the information dumped onto her. She had expected one or two skills, but instead, she had ten alien abilities to puzzle over. Everything Ephy had detailed came into clearer view: the game-like terminology she had been using, runes, skills, and so on. Rosalie had detailed the list of supernatural abilities offered to her in a clinical, removed voice, but that didn't mitigate the perplexed amazement Zoey felt.

So. She had found herself in a world that operated on RPG-like principles.

For how oddly things had started, how was her situation only becoming stranger?

"I see," Zoey said. Like usual, she focused on the here-and-now. "So. Escape."

The two of them stayed silent. They had individually put together what needed to happen. It was fairly obvious.

"It seems to me," Rosalie said tightly, "that you need to Bond to me, then use Bolster. The boost in strength will allow me to wrench us free."

Assuming they weren't buried underground, and that this strange box they'd found themselves in could, in fact, be escaped from.

"And you're … okay with that?"

"Let's see," Rosalie said. "Starving to death in a tiny coffin, or having you jerk off on me. I guess the second's preferable." She turned her head to the right, avoiding meeting Zoey's eyes. "So. Get to it."

It wasn't the most glowing of consent, but Zoey got the sense Rosalie wasn't the type of person to be providing happy, overt permission for these circumstances. And what choice did they have? Zoey's hands were as bound as Rosalie's. They were stuck in this situation together.

How they'd ended up in such a strange scenario … Zoey suspected a meddling goddess.

Her breathing—and heart rate—picked up. It had calmed from their earlier analysis of the situation, Zoey's runes and skills. Her lips parted as she started to pant, and it grew loud in the cramped space. Rosalie probably felt trickles of the humid air against the side of her face. There wasn't any way for Zoey to avoid it, pushed in against each other like they were.

Zoey pressed her body up by her elbows, gaining the tiny inch of space they were provided. Her cock twitched, once, in preparation of what she'd been given permission to do.

"Okay," Zoey said. "Well. Might as well get to it. Are you ready?"

"No," Rosalie said, eyes closed and still facing away. "But take longer, will you?"

Again, it wasn't the happiest of permissions, but it was permission.

Zoey gave in to her newly found biological urges.

Her hips jerked forward, across the tiny distance she was afforded, and her throbbing cock grinded against sweaty skin. That first, slick indulgence of Zoey's cock grinding against Rosalie's stomach couldn't be put into words. It was mind-erasing. It forced one of the lewdest noises out of Zoey's mouth that she had ever produced, a mix between a whine, a moan, and an agonized sigh.

Finally. Relief.

Zoey was far from happy that Rosalie couldn't refuse, but it wasn't like Zoey had options, either. She was forced to do this as much as Rosalie.

And sure, Rosalie might not want to have her compact, muscly, pretty little body used as Zoey's plaything, a slab of meat to extract a pulsing orgasm from, to be covered in cum for express purpose of allowing them to escape, but Zoey didn't want this either. Not cognitively, at least, as a sapient being who didn't enjoy being forced into something as intimate as sex—or something close to sex.

However much her hips moved on their own accord, now, however much Zoey couldn't have stopped if she wanted to.

But this was the situation they were in. Zoey humping her girthy girlcock against Rosalie's stomach—between their stomachs—providing a sweaty, filthy friction, using lubricant of pre-cum and exertion as Zoey finally got the relief she so desperately needed.

The first hints of rapture started to build deep in Zoey's lower body. Slowly, bit by bit, still a far way off, but arriving. It was a hot, aching sensation she had never experienced before. Zoey's head fell forward, overtop Rosalie's ear, which she panted into, and Zoey closed her eyes and lost herself to the feelings crashing through her length.

Rosalie's own gasps were loud, painfully obvious. For not doing anything, she was breathing shockingly hard, sucking in breaths and hiccupping. And seeing how, based on their alignment in this coffin, their crotches were pressed into each other, Zoey didn't think all that wetness they were sharing was entirely sweat, sweat produced from the muggy conditions. Plenty of it, she thought, was arousal. From both of them. Natural lubricant from their aching lower halves. Rosalie's slickness, and her own, provided a slippery liquid that spread with the humping of Zoey's shaft, coating her cock as she slid between them. Zoey jerked awkwardly up and down, sliding her stiffness forward, then back, again and again, building to a pulsing, twitching climax.

Rosalie's hips bucked for the first time, joining in with Zoey's diligent efforts, and it didn't seem intentional. Rosalie's body locked up, as if the serious, formal-speaking girl was shocked at what she'd done.

"Keep going," Zoey exhaled hotly into her ear. "That's a good girl."

She wasn't sure where the words came from. Zoey was adrift in a hot sea of pleasure, bliss coursing through her lower half. Zoey wiggled her body around to get her upper thigh pressed against Rosalie's slick entrance, providing better purchase for her to grind against.

Rosalie acquiesced.

Her hips bucked a second time. Then a third. Soon enough, the two of them worked into a rhythm, grinding against each other, Zoey against Rosalie's abs, and Rosalie against her leg, building toward their mutual salvation. Because that was what this was. Salvation. They weren't doing this for pleasure. Sure, pleasure was a byproduct, but their hot, sweaty indulgence was from necessity, and nothing more. They needed out of this trap they'd found themselves in. Anything else, a byproduct.

The slide of their bodies together had nothing to do with want. With the gross, sticky pleasures of human lust.

"Shit," Zoey groaned. "You, you ready?"

"As ever," Rosalie gasped back, her hips jerking and wiggling against Zoey with almost as much fervor as Zoey herself.

Zoey focused on the building, white-hot burning at the base of her cock. She'd had plenty of orgasms in her life, of course, but always as a girl. She'd heard that guys' climaxes were more intense, or at least more sudden, that they burned fast then were spent. But that wasn't her experience. The feeling built, and built, and built, so much higher than anything she'd felt in her life, and not slowing down, but spreading through her body, erasing rational thought, waves of pleasure drowning out everything.

Maybe it was the reality of the situation. Maybe it was Rosalie's perfect, reluctant-then-willing body grinding against hers that built Zoey to such an unbelievable high. Whatever it was, the orgasm that clenched her stomach was unlike anything she'd felt. The world-ending relief hit her all at once, her cock spasming as it finally released its sticky payload.

The first spray escaped Zoey's girlrod, and Zoey cried out in half-pain, half indescribable pleasure. Sandwiched by their two stomachs, the cream had nowhere to go besides between them, coating Zoey's continued thrusting. It spread between their abs, providing an even slicker, slippier surface for Zoey to rub against. Rather than slowing, Zoey's pistoning picked up speed, and Rosalie's own body started to rack in pleasure.

She was cumming, too? They'd been rubbing against each other for a while, but that was still surprisingly fast. But those thoughts passed her mind only briefly. She was occupied in the erasing pleasure of white-hot orgasm.

The second wave of hot cream escaped her cock, turning an already coated surface drenched. Her seed spilled between their stomachs, flooding between them, nowhere else to go. But Zoey's cock wasn't expended. The third wave suffused her throbbing member, jettisoning out another load of hot, lewd liquid. Flooding turned drenched, then overflowing. Her cum was everywhere, working between them as they humped their bodies against each other.

Rosalie's body continued to convulse, shaking from the strength of her orgasm. Zoey had been with girls before, of course, but the pride of success that suffused her was different from those encounters. Her pulsing, sticky member being the provider of that spasming pleasure fed into Zoey's imagination, forcing her cock to seize harder, because even after three drenching spurts, she hadn't been emptied.

Zoey shoved off the ground as hard as she could, somehow growing the tight space between their bodies further, so that the sticky load of her cock could make greater distance.

And it worked. The next batch of gooey white batter made better distance: it flew out, caressing her cock with hot bliss as it did, launching onto Rosalie's chest. Further, even. Onto her neck. Rosalie didn't mind, or notice. The two of them thrashed against each other, moaning with obscene volume, their husky voices echoing through the tiny space they shared.

Zoey couldn't believe how quickly the situation had devolved. Rosalie had seemed so composed, but by the way her body twisted and her lower half shoved desperately against Zoey, she wanted this as badly as her, if not more.

In reality, she was a cock-hungry whore. She wanted pleasure. If Zoey had been in a better position, she would have wanted Zoey to thrust inside. To have her pussy walls convulsing and twitching against a stranger's massive girlcock as she milked out hot seed into her womb. Rosalie wanted to be filled up. To be stuffed with sticky, impregnating girlcum.

Zoey closed her eyes, and pretended to provide that to her.

Another convulsion of her cock, the strongest of all the ones prior, and the sheer strength of the seizure launched white strands all the way to Rosalie's face, who produced a surprised squeak of noise. It was almost unbelievable how much seed escaped from Zoey's cock, considering how much had already burst from her.

The white batter clung to almost every inch of their bodies. It gathered in sticky pools beneath them, dripping between their legs and off their stomachs. And yet Zoey's convulsing provided more, and more, onto Rosalie's face, neck, upper chest, still not spent. Every last drop of girlcum was milked from her twitching cock as Rosalie thrusted her desperate lower half against Zoey, until Zoey truly did have nothing else to give—and they sat in a pool of her cum.

Ephy hadn't been kidding. Only the best for her champions. So much had escaped her it was nearly comical.

Zoey collapsed, her orgasm finally concluding. Almost as an afterthought, she activated Bond, which had been the whole purpose of this.

She's not done yet, Zoey's brain registered through the haze. She rallied, drawing on some second wind to keep grinding so that she could ride Rosalie's orgasm to its own maximum. But Zoey was so unbelievably spent that she couldn't do much. She wanted to be a considerate partner and help Rosalie—for all that the well-spoken, stiff girl would never claim to be wanting this—but Zoey didn't have it in her. This newer form of orgasm was so much more exhausting than the ones she could coax out of herself, back when she hadn't wielded a massive slab of meat between her legs. Still, she gave it her best, exhausted effort, because Rosalie deserved pleasure as much as she did.

Rosalie's twitching finally ended, and she collapsed, her body stopping its writhing. Zoey did the same. The tiny space finally went quiet—relatively—no longer suffused in moaning, whining, and groaning, only the gasping inhalations of two girls who'd just humped each other until their hearts had nearly exploded. They sucked in air, dizzy from exertion and body-racking orgasms.

Hot, sticky liquid coated the bottom of the box, and every inch between their shared skin, their tits, even the strands that had reached up to Rosalie's face and hair. Pressed into each other, plenty of it had gotten onto Zoey herself.

It was a long time before one of them spoke.

"Well," Rosalie said. "You did it, right?"

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

The wooden box creaked as Rosalie's empowered body shoved with full strength. Wood tore as nails ripped, metal popping and wrenching from their securements. Underneath her, Rosalie's body shook with exertion. Her awkward positioning didn't help, hands and knees finding leverage wherever it could in the shared, cramped space.

With a final snap, the lid sheared, then buckled from its nailed-in edges, flying and clattering somewhere to the side. Orange light, and fresh air, flooded in. Zoey and Rosalie clambered out, then rolled over and collapsed onto cold stone. Zoey's cum clung to their bodies, and it wasn't until the air of the room reached her nose that she realized how musky their shared space had been.

Though they'd already rested briefly from their grinding, intimate pleasure, the next series of panting as they lied shoulder-to-shoulder and stared up at a crumbling stone ceiling was born from relief of a different kind: that they weren't doomed to slow starvation in a wooden box.

Zoey had used the word 'coffin', earlier, to describe where they'd been stuck, and it turned out that'd been accurate. A tiny, glossy black box laid to their left, the previous nailed-in lid discarded somewhere to the side.

Rosalie patted Zoey's stomach in a 'let's get to it' gesture, then stood. Zoey did as told.

She took in Rosalie, in detail, for the first time.

She was short, five-three at a guess. But at the observation, Zoey paused, because her judgment was likely impaired from the changes to her body. Ephy had sprouted her height up by six inches or more, and so Zoey should be six foot or taller, now, though Ephy hadn't specified what exact changes she'd made. So maybe Rosalie was average height, or even taller. Her perception when it came to height was in disarray.

Her body, though, was the kind women would kill for. Zoey's cock had become delightedly acquainted with Rosalie's hard stomach, and the sight in front of her confirmed what she had learned by feel: this woman was a warrior. Not only was her body hard in all the places Zoey liked (despite the soft curves, wide hips, and shapely breasts), more than a few scars littered her stomach, shoulders, and a cute, faded streak ran horizontally across her nose, which the darkness of the coffin hadn't allowed her to see.

Her skin, of course, glistened in the dim light of the wall torches, covered equally in sweat and Zoey's cum.

Zoey's cum. That was her sticky fluid marking Rosalie's body in nearly comical amounts. Hers. It was hard to explain the intense, dominating pride she felt at the sight. Her cock twitched, though didn't harden again. It was spent from earlier escapades.

Zoey wasn't the only one to appraise her partner. Rosalie's eyes had been crawling across Zoey's body, taking stock of the woman she'd been thrust into strange circumstances with. Hers was likely of a more clinical nature.

"Well," Rosalie finally said, her appraisal not something Zoey was privy to. Her face was cool and collected. Impassive. "I suppose it's time for a proper introduction." She stepped forward and held her hand out. "Rosalie. Lancer. Second advancement. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Zoey was taken aback by how the composed, intense demeanor had returned, especially after what had happened. But maybe that was Rosalie's natural state, and their erotic circumstances had simply resulted in a break of her composure. In fact, perhaps it was the circumstances themselves that had Rosalie needing to impose formality between them.

"Zoey, for the second time," she returned, shaking her hand. "And, uh, I've got no clue what Lancer means, or second advancement."

Rosalie paused. "Right. Memory problems." She withdrew her hand. Zoey wondered if they were really pretending Zoey hadn't drenched her in cum just a few minutes prior, and that this was their first meeting. But whatever. If it made Rosalie more comfortable, then sure. "Lancer is—" she paused. "Let's ensure we're safe, first. Then talk."

Zoey nodded; that was a smart idea. She turned and inspected the room they'd escaped into.

On first inspection, it gave the impression of an abandoned temple, though she wasn't sure whether they were underground or above; there were no windows to check. Thick green vines sprouted from various places, wiggling through the cracked stone brick, and giving the room an overrun-by-nature feel. Decaying red banners, moth-eaten at the edges, draped from the walls. Three more coffins laid in an aligned square; she and Rosalie had woken in the front-left. The others had their lids parted, not having been nailed in. Only they'd received that pleasure, Zoey guessed.

She walked to the wall and studied the vines. She rubbed one of them between her fingers, wondering why they were covered in a slippery, clear fluid. Water? It didn't feel like it. Honestly, it felt like lubricant.

Which, uh, gave her a bad feeling. Zoey was from Earth, after all, a twenty-first century girl, and she'd spent her fair share of time on the internet. Considering how this 'shard' had introduced her and Rosalie, finding slimy green vines coated in what felt like lubricant implied some … concerning things. She almost opened her mouth to mention it to Rosalie, then realized how insane she would sound. Careful of the vines. They might want to molest you. Zoey was surely being ridiculous. The vines hadn't responded to her touch, anyway.

Just paranoia. Or perversion.

At a sudden ripping noise, Zoey turned to see what Rosalie was doing. She had torn one of the red banners off the wall and had started wiping herself down. Which was fair … but Zoey frowned, because she'd greatly enjoyed the sight of Rosalie's body covered in her seed. But it was only practical. Ephy had said saving the world wasn't all 'conquest of tight, nubile bodies', and that there would be genuine danger ahead, mountains to climb, and obstacles to overcome. So cleaning themselves off and focusing on practical matters was for the best.

Once Rosalie was done, she tossed the fabric to Zoey, who did the same. It didn't do the greatest of jobs. Her cum had dried a slight amount already, and without water, it wasn't the easiest thing to clean off. Oddly, Zoey felt satisfied at that. No small amount of the girlcum she'd splattered Rosalie with would be left over, caked onto her. Possibly for a while. Until they could shower or bathe, which Zoey didn't see in the short foreseeable future.

Seriously, cool it with the perviness.

Zoey wouldn't ever have called herself the most chaste, blushing of people, but she didn't think she'd ever been this sex-obsessed. Was it the addition between her legs? Definitely a contributor … but maybe it was what she had just been subjected to, and the implication by Ephy more would be coming. Though with Rosalie? Zoey had her doubts. She didn't seem the type of woman to be pouncing on someone she barely knew. That first time might have been their last, since it'd been strictly necessary.

But she hoped not. Zoey's eyes locked to Rosalie's ass as she moved around the room, watching the way it swayed. Such a small, defined girl had no reason having a butt that perfect, that filled-out.

A stirring between her legs forced her to look away. It seemed the refractory period was ending, and Zoey would rather not have to explain another erection. She wouldn't have the excuse of being piled on top of a naked girl, this time. Rosalie would know she'd been staring, and imagining lewd things in the safety of her mind.

"Find anything?" Zoey asked.

Rosalie turned to Zoey, and Zoey maintained firm eye contact. Rosalie's perky, pale tits were still plainly in her peripheral vision, and further down, situated beneath defined abs, a neatly-trimmed patch of platinum hair, same as the shoulder-length tresses above. But if Zoey tried hard enough, she could pretend she didn't see any of it. Settle down, girl, she said to her stirring lower body. Or was it boy? Cocks were obviously pretty masculine … but she didn't like the idea of calling it such. And besides, hers was kind of cuter, more feminine, wasn't it? Okay, that was a lie, it was huge, veiny, throbbing, and definitely an angrier, more impressive piece than any man on Earth could wield, but it was a girl anyway, damnit.

"We're safe here, I assume," Rosalie said. "Only one exit, that door. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like my spear or armor is here. It must be somewhere in the shard, but it could take time to find. So. Considering we've been given a reprieve, now's the opportunity to form a plan of attack."

Talking business. Absolutely. It would help tremendously with not embarrassing herself by raising mast in front of her impromptu partner. And there was a lot of business to talk.

"Okay," Zoey said. "Can you catch me up? Shards. That's where we are, you said, but what's that mean? And the Fractures. Haven, too? And advancements … you said you were second. And—"

Rosalie raised a hand. There was a casual, assumed authority in the movement that gave Zoey pause.

Don't you know who I am? Rosalie's words from earlier echoed in her head.

And that. Zoey should probably bring that exclamation up. Who was she? Somebody important, based on her arrogant posture, her ramrod-straight back, the way she carried herself with such assured confidence and commanded Zoey around.

"I'll give you an overview," Rosalie said, "but I'm hardly going to explain everything you've forgotten. It's a world's worth of information, literally."

Ironic phrasing. "The basics are fine." And finally addressing a matter Zoey knew had to be addressed, she said, "And can you, uh, cover yourself up? With one of the banners? I don't want to, uh, embarrass us again."

Rosalie's eyes flicked down to Zoey's cock, and at the attention, it twitched. It didn't fully stiffen, but only at great effort by Zoey, who ran through the least arousing scenarios in her head that she could invent.

"Right." Zoey could tell by the stutter in Rosalie's voice, and the flush and blinking, that something along the lines of, why didn't I think of that, crossed her mind.

They each made impromptu clothes from the decaying, moth-eaten banners. They wouldn't be functional for moving around, and definitely not fighting, but it bought them some temporary modesty—and Zoey some reprieve.

Though not having such a gorgeous woman on display … Zoey hated herself for being the one to suggest it.

"Shards," Rosalie said firmly, corralling them back to topic. "Shards are pocket dimensions separated from the greater clusters that makes up the Fractures. Deeper, further removed—little is known for certain, and theoreticals are irrelevant. Functionally, know they're dangerous pocket realms that need to be cleared before we can return to the Fractures."

"Which is where society is?"

"Wayfarer societies," Rosalie said. "But yes."

"And that means?"

"Civilians live in Haven, not in the Fractures. The Fractures are for … the adventurous." She paused. "With exceptions, of course. Plenty delve down to provide services to Wayfarers. Even tailors make good money in the Fractures, many times what they could up above, because of the implied risk." She shook her head. "But that's not important. Yes. Society in a vague sense lives in the Fractures, not within shards."

"And we're trying to return there."

"Sure," Rosalie said. "You, at least. I came here intentionally. Shards are lucrative, and evolve runes faster than the monsters found above. So my real goal was to clear this shard, emptying out any resources I could find. Routine. The usual goal of a Wayfarer." Her lips pursed. "You've complicated that. You're unfit for delving a shard, and memoryless, so I'll need to escort you to safety, rather than taking my time to loot the structure dry, as I normally would."

"Hey." Zoey didn't know why she was offended. Obviously she was unfit for adventuring; this woman exuded competence, and Zoey knew without demonstration that she could fight, that she might have been trained for it since birth. "I guess you're right, but—"

But what? Zoey didn't like being treated as dead weight? Well, she probably was, and that didn't change regardless of if she wanted to delve the shard (the new terminology felt a bit odd to use, but she'd have to get used to that). But did she, even? Want to? Ostensibly that was what Zoey's mission here was, as delivered by Ephy.

Speaking of mission, what if Zoey refused? To 'save the world', whatever that meant? Could she go settle down somewhere? Live a normal life, for a sense of the word? Did she want to? Would Ephy intervene? She wouldn't get her memories back, for sure. Did she care if she didn't? They'd been excised so thoroughly the fact they were tattered in incoherent patches didn't even bother her. She was missing the faces of her parents, siblings if she had them, friends, and so on—but so what? They didn't exist to her anymore. Weren't 'distractions', as Ephy had put it, the exact reason she'd done it in the first place.

Her head started to hurt. Now that she had a moment to think, the enormity of everything that had happened slammed into her. No small amount of dread, either.

For her own mental health, she went along with things as they'd been laid out for her. She would acquiesce to Ephy's orders … until she had time to actually think about all this chaos. At a minimum, she could shelve it until she found civilization, a place with people, and safety. They were far from out of the woods, regardless that they'd escaped from the coffin.

"I guess that's true," Zoey finally said. "But I'm sure I could do something to help. Two pairs of hands is better than one, right?"

"Not remotely. You'd get in my way, and I'd expend more effort saving you than you'd offer in return."

The words stung, but again, they were probably true.

Rosalie bit her lip. "But … your runes … I don't know."

"What?"

"Well. They're quite useful."

"They are?"

"They're the strongest first-advancement skills I've ever seen. And your Rune of Bonding. It's … I've never even known a person with a mythic-tier rune. Even my father—" Her teeth clicked shut.

Smooth, Zoey thought. Real subtle. So she was trying to keep some things about her past under wraps? She wasn't good at it. But Zoey didn't point that out. "Mythic-tier?"

Rosalie waved her hand dismissively. "Just know it's quite rare. Vanishingly so. I mean, this bond you formed with me … it accelerates the evolution of my own runes." She sounded disbelieving, though she'd read the words from Zoey's tabula anima herself, so the legitimacy of the skill wasn't in question.

"That's good?" Zoey asked.

Rosalie gave her a flat look, not answering outright. Zoey could put two and two together.

"There's a gap between us," Rosalie said, "a significant one, but perhaps … well, I'm curious to see how you develop. You might be useful."

The cold analysis amused Zoey. "Not interested in me for me, huh?"

"I'm sure you're a delightful woman to be around," the compliment was lost in the impassive way she said it, "but I have goals a little loftier than to be picking my teammates on merit of how well they deliver a quip."

She really was a bundle of seriousness, wasn't she? It was kind of cute. "Okay. So. You do think I can help."

"Depends. Do you remember how to cast spells?"

Zoey hadn't been flinging fireballs around back home, so no. She shook her head. Then for full disclosure, "Never even been in a fight."

Rosalie blinked at that. Zoey guessed in this world, the modern standard of non-violence wasn't quite the same.

"I thought you don't have your memories," Rosalie said, having been blinking at her for a different reason than Zoey had assumed.

Zoey paused. She'd just a second ago been amused for Rosalie poorly keeping things under wraps, and there Zoey went, doing it too. "I remember … some. It's foggy." Honesty was the best policy here. "But I guess I can't say I haven't been in a fight for certain. It's all in tatters."

Rosalie studied her for a second, then seemingly shrugged it off. At a guess, whether Zoey was lying or not didn't especially matter. "Well. You see the problem, then? You can't cast spells, much less fight."

"I'll get the hang of it?" Zoey suggested hopefully. "I'm sure I can do something to help."

Rosalie bit her lip, considering the claim. She glanced at the wooden door, then a decision solidified on her face. "We have time to find out. Let's see if we can get you acquainted to flinging a basic ice spike, and we'll go from there."

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

"Well," Rosalie said. "You're better than most novices. If you keep out of the way, you might be able to help. In … some small way."

It was far from glowing praise, but it meant Zoey wouldn't be forced to stay out of the action entirely. That was a win, in her book.

And why the hell was spellcasting—utilizing her Rune of Arcana—so difficult? Hadn't she been summoned to this world by a literal goddess … shouldn't she be a prodigy at everything she did, or something? Instead, Rosalie seemed distinctly unimpressed, even after Zoey had spent an hour clumsily crafting together one-circle spells, and the same one again and again: a simple ice spike given velocity.

"Now," Rosalie said. "For your mana situation."

It's called lust, actually . Zoey had picked up a thing or two about how this world worked, by now, during the lessons Rosalie had provided her. Mana was what normal mages used to fuel their spells, but Zoey's resource system had been replaced by 'lust', which was recharged by … well, by things such as what she and Rosalie had done in the coffin, which had been what topped her off in the first place.

"I'm running low," Zoey said with a nod. "It's time for us to recharge."

Rosalie stared. "Us?"

Zoey blinked. She realized the assumption she had made. "Well, I just mean, uh, it says bonded targets provide more … and I figured—"

"You are perfectly capable of jerking yourself off, thank you very much," Rosalie's incredulous reply came.

It seemed Zoey's earlier assumption—that their intimacy in the coffin had been a one-time thing—was true.

"Right," Zoey said. "Right. Didn't mean to assume—uh. Anyway. So, like, I should do that now, then?"

"Unless you're waiting on something?" She made a shooing motion. "Do it in the corner. And don't let me hear you."

Zoey paused, feeling a bit demeaned. "I know this is an odd situation, but—"

"A disgusting one, actually."

"Disgusting?" Her temper flared; Rosalie's snippiness was getting to her. "You didn't think that an hour ago, did you?"

" Excuse me ?"

"You were just as into it as me, princess."

"I was not ." The words were two full octaves higher than normal.

"That body racking orgasm was … an act, then?"

"Orgasm? I absolutely did not . Are you—are you insane?"

Zoey stared incredulously. She was denying that? "Okay. The fact you joined in, then? Or are you denying the humping, too?"

"Because I wanted it over faster, pervert . And you told me to."

"There's no need for insults."

"And there's no need for you to be propositioning me to jerk you off, either. But you did that, didn't you?"

Zoey realized she needed to be the mature one here. Rosalie's embarrassment over sexual matters was even higher than Zoey had thought it would be. And while the harsh rejection and insults stung, she could tell Rosalie needed to be able to deny what had happened—for her own comfort. Zoey could do that, at least.

"Fine. Fine. I'll go … take care of it. Alone."

"Don't take too long."

Zoey bit her tongue on a retort. Rosalie had been otherwise pleasant—if serious and domineering—up until this point. She'd only been rude when sex had been brought up.

Well, not even sex. It'd just have been a handjob. But whatever.

Zoey walked to the corner, feeling like a pretty giant idiot. 'Don't make any noise'? Could this be any more embarrassing?

She shrugged off the banner she'd been wearing, then set it out against the floor to sit on. It shielded her from the grime and dirt of the stonebrick, though the banner itself wasn't the cleanest thing.

She spread her legs out and stared down at her cock.

Well. Time to make personal acquaintance. She hadn't had an opportunity to do that, yet.

She poked at the sensitive flesh. Even when it was soft, the size of the thing was comically unwieldy. Zoey had always preferred girls, so cocks hadn't ever done much for her. Strap-ons were fun, sure, and she didn't have anything against cocks; just, she'd never been interested in men, so.

Having her own wasn't so bad. At least as far as that interaction with Rosalie had gone.

At the reminder, she started to grow.

She wrapped a hand around the shaft, feeling it expand in her soft grip—and wondering at her slim, feminine fingers wrapped around the massive rod of meat. It was probably—scratch that, definitely—weird to be turned on by seeing her own hand wrapped around her cock, at seeing her own cock grow, but she'd be lying if she said it didn't do something for her: the mismatch in sizes, the way she could barely fit it in her grip. Seriously, why the hell was it so big? Ephy must have a size kink, to be forcing a monster like this onto Zoey.

And maybe Zoey had a bit of one, too, based on how she admired the fact it just kept growing . Especially since Ephy implied the whole 'fitting' thing shouldn't be an issue, once she 'figured out her runes'. Which hadn't happened yet, but runes evolved and new skills were revealed, so Zoey assumed that'd be down the line.

Finally full mast, Zoey admired her impressive weapon. She gripped it in both hands, thin fingers covering a comically small amount of space.

So. Jerking off, guy-style. How did it work? It couldn't be that complicated. Didn't they use lotion, though, or something? Lubricant?

She gripped herself and ran her hands up and down, but with how much real estate there was, Zoey quickly realized she'd be needing some sliding, if she wanted to be effective about things. Unless … a hand went to the top, where she caressed the tip, then tried a few jerking motions. Zoey winced in pleasure—that had definitely been better. But still. Lubricant would help.

Her spit?

There was no shot she could produce enough to cover herself, not with her size, and spit dried up pretty fast anyway. After being spoiled by Rosalie's convulsing, sweaty body, Zoey could tell it would take some work to get herself off; spit wouldn't last long enough. Her first interaction had set a high bar, and since she'd been so thoroughly emptied just an hour prior, she didn't even have the advantage of being pent up.

An idea popped into her head. She shimmied on her butt a few feet to the wall, where the vines sprouted between the stonebrick. They still glistened in the flickering orange torchlight, covered in that slick liquid Zoey had noticed when they'd first arrived.

Well. How convenient.

She wiped both hands across the various green protrusions, collecting the lubricant across her fingers, then she re-gripped her cock and started spreading the liquid. The effort worked fabulously; a few more applications, and Zoey's cock glistened in the light, covered from base to tip in the oily liquid.

Zoey gave it another shot: she ran both hands up, then down, squeezing with a firm grip. Her cock pulsed happily, and Zoey let out a breathless moan of content.

Time to get to it, then .

Zoey laid down across the red banner draped on the floor, then closed her eyes and got to work.

She experimented for a bit. The cockhead was most sensitive, of course. Squeezing her fingers shut, then having her cock pierce between them, felt heavenly , like Zoey was slipping into some lewd part of a woman, and not her own hand. But it was also bursts of pleasure, where simply working away in a pumping motion with both hands served better for building her toward orgasm. Which was still a long way off. She didn't even feel hints of it yet, for all that she was enjoying her efforts.

Probably need some mental assistance. There was an obvious person to fantasize about, especially considering they'd already mutually orgasmed against each other during one of the most erotic situations Zoey had ever found herself in. So she focused on that memory: on the feeling of her cock grinding against Rosalie, and all the cute, agonized noises she'd been making as she tried desperately to get herself off.

Definitely working, Zoey thought as another breathless moan escaped her lips.

A squeaking noise pierced the room, briefly making Zoey open her eyes, before shutting them and refocusing. Zoey assumed Rosalie had looked over and seen Zoey working away at her enormous shaft. Zoey might've laughed if her attention hadn't been so intently directed at coaxing out the building pleasure in her member. Because had Rosalie thought Zoey wouldn't make any noise? Zoey would be accommodating where she could, but not that accommodating. And it'd been her fault she'd looked over. What Zoey would be doing was pretty obvious.

Zoey's hips started moving on their own accord, joining in on her hands' efforts in milking out an intensifying pleasure that finally made itself apparent, that starting building deep in her cock, and the core of her stomach, heralding the start of the end. She pumped faster, falling deeper into her fantasies. It wasn't her hands sliding up and down her cock, but actually the spasming walls of the cute, serious platinum-haired blondie in the other corner of the room. Rosalie's cunt squeezed around Zoey's cock as she bounced up and down, ass impacting her crotch, the tight, hot wetness of her breeding hole doing its hardest to fulfill its biological imperative. It wanted to be filled. It wanted to be stuffed to overflowing with Zoey's hot seed. And she could provide that, couldn't she? Just had to work … a little harder. Go a little faster. Harder. Faster. Please. Please.

Zoey's feet slid back on their own accord, and she arched her back, so that only her feet and shoulders were making contact with the ground. Her hands pistoned with as much speed and strength as she could muster. Her cock stuck out an angle, and she realized in this position she'd be spraying all over herself, but in the condition her melting mind was in, she didn't care remotely. It was coming. The heat. The pulsating, aching, relief. She needed to empty herself. It was Rosalie's tight pussy begging for it. Zoey could do it. For her. For Rosalie. She needed to be filled . To be bred. To have Zoey's sticky spunk spraying into her womb.

Zoey whined as she milked out her first solo orgasm.

It erupted with a spasm, and a hot splash of liquid hit Zoey's face. She wasn't particularly interested in tasting it, so she cemented her lips shut, but the idea she was coming over her own face was insanely hot, so rather than aiming away, Zoey let the next spray hit the same place again. With the strength and lack of finesse Zoey was pumping away with, plenty of her baby batter went astray: across her stomach, tits, shoulders, neck, and surely everywhere nearby, too, not just her face. Like her previous orgasm, Zoey had a lot of spunk to shoot out; that it'd been only an hour since her last didn't seem to matter. Her face was well and thoroughly covered by the time Zoey's hips sagged down, and she had coaxed out every last drop she could manage.

She lay panting on the ground for a while, then finally sat up and started cleaning herself, starting with clearing the spunk from her eyes, so she could open them.

She had a Shard to explore. Saving the world wasn't all perversion.

Just mostly, from the look of things.

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Rosalie peered out into the hallway, then, after a few moment's quiet analysis, stepped forward and waved for Zoey to follow. She did so. At a distance, as they had discussed.

They had dropped the impromptu banner-clothing. By high odds, they'd be getting in a few tussles in the upcoming adventure, and tripping over hastily tied, decaying cloth would be a pretty hilarious way to go, especially when both she and Rosalie had already milked out orgasms from each other; modesty really ought not to be a concern of theirs. Rosalie was embarrassed about sex and related fields, that much was obvious, but even she wasn't that impractical. Her good-sense as a Wayfarer overruled her desire to cover her body up.

And so Zoey got a great view of her ass as she walked carefully down the hallway, inspecting for traps, or potential threats. If Zoey hadn't just emptied herself, her cock probably would've risen up in its stiff, angry seal of approval. Because Christ, this girl had one of the best asses she'd ever seen. And Zoey had had the internet, back home, so that was really saying something.

Like the room prior, the hallway was nondescript besides the vines curling from between crumbling gaps in the wall. The presence of plant-life was much more pervasive. Zoey's paranoia flickered again, but she forced it down. Rosalie was the expert here, and she'd thought nothing of the vines, even when Zoey had roundabout brought it up, asking whether they were dangerous. For that effort, she'd only received an odd look, and a snide comment about how using the slime to jerk herself off had been dangerous, because who knew if it was poisonous, but otherwise, no, they were just vines.

So. Clearly they meant nothing. Just a convenient (in regards to Zoey's earlier plight) part of the scenery.

Zoey didn't know what to expect from this adventure. Combat, certainly. Traps, a given. Loot—an interesting upcoming event. Rosalie had given her an overview of how the world worked, but every shard was different. Each came with their own form of monsters, and obstacles, to overcome. Like the coffin debacle, and that Rosalie's weapons and armor had gone missing.

Hopefully forever.

Not really, because she needed those, but damn, Zoey wasn't going to be happy when she didn't get to see that ass wiggling in front of her. She wanted so, so desperately to discover the sensation of burying herself into Rosalie, and feeling those soft cheeks pressing into her crotch, but while Zoey's horniness levels had skyrocketed since her new addition between her legs, the urges were far from overwhelming, at least in a literal sense. She could control herself. She wasn't some savage. She admired from afar.

But maybe someday …

A vine, thicker than the previous, drew Zoey's attention as they slowly advanced down the hallway. It was laid out across the floor, from wall to wall, serving as a stumbling block. The strongest paranoia yet hit Zoey, the need to call out and warn Rosalie, who'd clearly seen it, but thought of it only as scenery, something to watch her footing for. Zoey bit her tongue.

Rosalie knew best. Right?

Rosalie stepped carefully across the thick protrusion, and Zoey felt silly, for a brief, ridiculous moment. She'd overreacted. Of course it was safe. What was it going to do, grab her and—

Then the vine shuddered, and Zoey barely made out what happened next. The vine came to life, snaking out and wrapping around Rosalie's legs at thigh-level, securing her in thick, green loops, like an anaconda. Rosalie was swiped from her feet with barely time to squeak in surprise. She dangled from the ceiling, upside down, and in response, the mass of vines on the wall started to writhe and animate, heeding the incapacitation the larger, trap-vine on the floor had provided.

Oh, shit. Zoey hadn't been paranoid; she'd been dead right.

Of course the dungeon they found themselves in wanted to molest them. It had crammed them in a coffin and forced Zoey to orgasm across Rosalie's body as their very first obstacle, for god's sake.

And while what was about to happen to Rosalie would be an amazing show, and something Zoey would have loved to see in an abstract sense, Zoey sure as hell wasn't letting Rosalie just hang there and be groped by slimy vines. Not if she didn't want it, at least. Which, knowing Rosalie, was definitely the case.

Not that she'd be getting out entirely unscathed. Zoey could only do so much, and the slimy green vines were on Rosalie in a blink. They wrapped around her torso, and her arms, further securing her in place, and the most enterprising of the bunch shoved itself into her mouth.

At least her lower holes seemed to be spared, since the thick, securing vine had her thighs solidly shut.

Her tits and mouth, not so much. Rosalie thrashed about, trying to fight the vines off. Zoey finally startled into action; she was hardly some trained adventurer, and everything had happened in what felt like half a second.

Her arsenal of tools was small, but she could at least try.

An hour of practice was far from enough time to have become a proficient spellcaster, but she had at least some. She called forth that strange well of energy, then in some inexplicable way, activated her Rune of Arcana, calling forth a single circle: the fundamental unit of spellcasting.

Mentally drawing the swooping, interlocking diagram for a high-velocity ice spike in the way Rosalie had taught her, she flung out the first of her spells, aimed directly at the largest vine, the one that had Rosalie's legs incapacitated.

It cut through green plant flesh with surprising efficacy. Two more spikes had the largest of the vines severed, and Rosalie thumping into the floor. The strength of the bindings at her legs now cut off, Rosalie's thrashing gained purchase; the grip started to loosen at her thighs, and Zoey could hear the vines start to tear. Rosalie's mouth was still occupied by a squirming occupant, and—Zoey paused in surprise. It was emptying some kind of fluid into her mouth. A translucent, pink material dribbled from her chin and out her nose. Based on the second, Zoey assumed the vine must be injecting its payload with no small amount of force.

Shit. That wasn't something dangerous, right? Seeing how it was a trap, it couldn't be pleasant. Zoey needed to get Rosalie out, like, now.

She almost slapped her forehead in realization, then genuinely despised herself for forgetting—again, she wasn't some hardened veteran. She'd forgotten the other tool she had available.

Like she had once before in the coffin, Zoey pushed a surge of strength into Rosalie, utilizing their bond to Bolster her.

Gaining newfound strength, Rosalie's efforts finally yielded fruit; the vines at her thighs ripped, and her arms broke free from the smaller assaulters. She grabbed the vine squirming into her mouth and pulled it out, gasping air and hacking at the liquid in her throat and lungs, then crawled from her squiggling prison, Zoey assisting in dragging her to safety.

Rosalie collapsed back, and Zoey leaned over her, panicked and not sure what to do. Rosalie was hacking out whatever pink liquid her molesters had shoved down her throat.

"Are you good? Are you—shit, is that stuff dangerous? It's not poison, right?" She felt incredibly useless, and fumed at herself for not doing more.

Ironically, or perhaps expectedly, Rosalie was calm despite the attack. She waved away Zoey's concern, not able to talk as she gasped and coughed out liquid, but conveying with body-language that she was fine. It did a lot to assure her … but not entirely.

"It's not poison," Rosalie finally said when she could speak. She hacked between words. "This is only a first advancement shard. None of the traps are deadly."

Zoey took the reassurance at face value, but she still had a bad feeling. "What's it do, then?"

"Weakens me, at a guess. We'll be finding out." She cleared her throat for a tenth or eleventh time. Reluctantly, she said, "Thanks for the help."

"I should've used Bolster as soon as you were snagged. I'm so stupid." Maybe she'd have been able to tear herself out before the vine had gotten into her mouth, but Zoey'd been an idiot and hadn't reacted in time.

Rosalie didn't contradict her, but she didn't seem to blame Zoey, either. "You're new to delving. Mastering your panic is one of the hardest steps." Rosalie wiped her hands down her chest, and they came back covered in clear liquid. Strands bridged from her hands to her breasts. "Gods, I'm covered in this stuff. I feel like I've been dumped in a tub of sap."

Zoey's panic finally settled, and she took in the nude woman covered head-to-toe in gooey lubricant. In the glinting light of the wall torches, it served as oil, turning her body glossy and very much something Zoey's cock appreciated.

Ah, shit.

Well, this was going to be a hard erection to explain.

Rosalie gave it one look, then shook her head in disgust. "Pervert."

"I'm glad you're fine," Zoey said.

Rosalie huffed and forced herself to her feet. "It caught me off guard. It won't happen again." Her pride was stung that she'd fallen for the trap.

"I knew something was weird about those vines."

"I suppose you did," Rosalie said sourly.

A short silence, and given the proof she'd needed, Zoey chose to broach a topic she felt needed to be, however strange it might sound.

"I think the dungeon wants to get in our pants." The euphemism felt silly considering their nakedness, but it felt better than saying 'molest' … or an even harsher term.

"Dungeon?"

"Shard," she corrected. The world was game-like, but they had their own specific terms. Not a dungeon, but a shard.

Rosalie was quiet for a bit. "You might be right. I've never heard of such a thing … but." She bit her lip. "It might have to do with you."

"Me?"

"Shards conform to their opposition. Seeing how your runes encourage …" Rosalie didn't finish the thought. "It makes sense the shard latched to that, and is a pervert, too, now. I just … didn't want to consider the possibility."

Pervert, too? She'd been throwing that word around a lot. Zoey had hardly asked for any of this, okay? And getting an erection at a naked, drop-dead gorgeous girl covered in oil was far from a 'perverted' reaction. But Zoey had learned to take her licks. Rosalie was pleasant otherwise.

"Regardless," Rosalie said. "Let's keep it moving forward."

Rosalie—and Zoey—eyed the mass of vines on the wall as they passed, but as soon as Rosalie had freed herself, the plants had reverted to their inert nature. They didn't so much as twitch as they creeped by.

They advanced down the hallway, quickly putting distance between them and the coffin-room.

It didn't take long for action to find them.

She heard the skittering of the creature before she saw it. Rosalie, of course, did as well. Her foot skidded back and she dropped into some form of combat stance—or what seemed to be so, based on Zoey's amateur appraisal.

A knee-high, black-furred thing appeared around the corner, and spared not a moment to launch itself at Rosalie. Zoey, like previously, reacted with a delay, shocked despite her mental preparation for a fight. Because what the hell was that thing? Not that she'd expected some, she didn't know, coherent animal like a dog or a cougar, seeing how she was in an alien world, but seriously. The squeal, the blur of black fur, and the way it threw itself forward with reckless abandon, freaked her the fuck out, okay?

This time, at least, Zoey activated Bolster immediately, feeling her energy reserves dip.

Rosalie made short work of it. Zoey would've helped, but with Rosalie wrapped in a violent, lightning-fast struggle of flesh and fur, Zoey didn't remotely trust herself to launch an ice spike and not cause collateral damage.

Rosalie didn't need the help, anyway.

It was a nauseatingly violent affair, Rosalie's killing of the monster, but what had Zoey expected?

"Well," Rosalie said when things had concluded, as she stared down at the beast that had been beaten into submission. "The shard's only goal isn't getting in our pants. It's normal to some degree."

"What a relief," Zoey said dryly.

She had liked the vines better.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Rosalie was acting strange.

The culprit was obvious. Had Zoey really thought nothing would come from the pink liquid that had been shoved down Rosalie's throat? It had been a trap. Traps didn't imply nothingness when they succeeded.

"Are you sure you're fine?" Zoey asked carefully, after the seventh time she caught Rosalie turning around and staring at her cock. She had effusively denied it each time, because Rosalie was Rosalie. She'd even denied that the liquid was having any effect, but the truth was plain as day.

An aphrodisiac. Rosalie had had a bucket of aphrodisiac injected into her stomach. And the effects were showing.

Which was a troubling realization. Zoey wouldn't be taking advantage of the situation; that much was a given. Honestly, she didn't think Rosalie would be yielding to the sensation, anyways. She was prideful like that.

And repressed, more frankly. She'd never admit she wanted Zoey's cock inside her. However many times she got distracted when she looked Zoey's way, then had her eyes ensnared by the enormous, soft protrusion of girlmeat between her legs.

"Fine?" Rosalie asked, her cheeks flushed almost a crimson red—as they had been for the past ten minutes. "What do you mean? Please don't tell me you're still worried about the trap. Clearly, the liquid didn't do anything. It would've shown by now."

Uh-huh, Zoey wanted to say. Rosalie's stalwart adherence to refusing to acknowledge that her skin and mind had been set aflame by a liquid influence would have been amusing—scratch that, was amusing, just concerning in equal measure—if not for how distracted she'd become. Seeing how they were working their way through a shard, where dangerous critters and traps lay at every corner, distractions were really not what they wanted, for safety's sake. Zoey's eyes certainly weren't discerning enough to pick out suspicious features.

"Do we need to take a break? Let it wear off?"

"Let what wear off?"

"Rosalie. Please. Your face is red." And you're staring at my cock. Right now. As we speak.

Her hand fluttered to her face, as if to check the temperature of her cheeks, and she blinked. "No, it's not."

"Let's take a break."

"I'm fine. We're continuing. But you can do as you want." She wrenched her eyes from between Zoey's legs, then turned forward and walked.

Why did this woman have to be so stubborn?

And the aphrodisiac was picking up potency. Rosalie's steps grew less certain by the second; she seemed unsteady on her feet, which was unsettling to see, with how Rosalie normally moved like a predator, or if not that, a queen striding through her domain.

Zoey realized she needed to take executive command here. Rosalie's brain wasn't working how it should. She strode forward and grabbed Rosalie by the wrist. "We're taking a break. I'm tired."

"You're tired?" she echoed.

Zoey needed to frame it as weakness stemming from her, not Rosalie. Rosalie would never admit to having anything resembling weakness. "Yes. I need to rest."

Rosalie shook her head. "You're trying to get me to stop. I'm not stupid. I'm fine. Let's keep going." She jerked her hand out of Zoey's grip and continued forward.

Inflamed, Zoey jogged forward to spin around and intercept her—but she stumbled, foot snagging on a vine, and she sprawled forward onto the stone, elbows jarring as she landed.

Oh, crap.

The vine rippled to life, and barely a second passed before Zoey was wrapped in a slimy plant-embrace.

Except … rather than hanging her by her thighs in the air, the vines sucked her into the wall. The largest of the plants—what she had tripped over—encircled her by her stomach, pinning her into a mass of cold, lubricated plantlife.

But they made no move to shove down Zoey's throat, or any of her other holes. Or even to molest her. They simply locked her in place, securing her arms, hands, and legs in various positions.

Rosalie stood there, blinking. Her reactions had been dulled by the aphrodisiac; she was reacting even slower than Zoey, by this point.

"You're not supposed to go ahead of me," Rosalie said. "That's why."

Zoey struggled against the vines, but if Rosalie couldn't escape without help—despite having runes focused on empowering her body and reactions—then obviously Zoey found little success.

"Little help, here?" Zoey snapped. Why the hell weren't they doing to her what they had to Rosalie?

Rosalie didn't move. Zoey looked up from the green wrappings. Rosalie had an idle look on her face, and predictably, her eyes were locked to Zoey's crotch, as they had consistently been for the past hour.

Zoey stilled, coming to a sudden understanding.

Step one: drug Rosalie.

Step two: capture Zoey.

Step three: see what happened.

Set them up, knock them down.

"Rosalie," Zoey said carefully. "I need help."

"Huh?" Rosalie replied idly. "You do? Why?" Her eyes didn't move from her crotch. Zoey could see the slickness between her thighs.

"Please help me," she said slowly. "I'm stuck, and you need to cut me out."

Rosalie approached. Her eyes didn't drift up to meet Zoey's. Zoey's stomach continued to sink.

Rather than moving to help her, Rosalie got down on her knees.

Zoey's body reacted on its own. Having the worshiping gaze of a girl she'd been constantly fantasizing over locked to her cock didn't give her much choice. Biological reactions didn't care for context. Her aching girth didn't care Rosalie wasn't in her right mind. It saw a gorgeous girl staring with lust, and responded.

All fourteen inches expanded outward, and Rosalie stared in awe. Zoey saw the way her knees rubbed together, the way she lifted up and squirmed in her knelt-over position, idly trying to satisfy the burning heat between her legs. Zoey could imagine the need coursing through her; she'd been feeling that constantly since her strange transmigration through worlds, and Zoey wasn't even egged on by an aphrodisiac.

"Why is it so big?" Rosalie asked. "And on a girl … why does a girl have such a giant cock between her legs?"

That subject hadn't been brought up yet. Zoey had half assumed it must be normal in this world. But by the wonder in her voice, maybe not. Maybe Rosalie had simply had time to come to terms with the strange occurrence; she had been conscious for longer than Zoey in that coffin they'd shared. Maybe she had determined not to bring it up, to be considerate. Who knew?

"Rosalie." This time, her name didn't even pierce through the fugue. Zoey tried again. "Rosalie. Rosie."

The nickname did the trick, and it even set the girl blinking. "Only my friends call me that," she said absently. "I guess you can. I think I'd like to be your friend, when you have something like this between your legs."

Rosalie reached out, but Zoey preempted her. "Don't touch it."

Rosalie paused. "You don't want me to?"

"No." Yes. A thousand times yes. But she wouldn't give permission for Rosalie to go against her own right-mind; she'd made it clear she didn't want to be involved with Zoey, and for all that her aching sex wanted Rosalie to play with it, Zoey wasn't some savage. She cared much more about her partner's mental well-being.

However much the way her cock jumping in rhythmic pulses would suggest otherwise, or the way Zoey couldn't quite prevent her hips from wiggling side to side in anticipation.

"But …" Rosalie started, staring down. She leaned forward and opened her mouth, and it took everything Zoey had to not jerk her hips forward, to thrust her cock into the wet, open hole. Rosalie breathed hot, humid air onto her cock head, and the sensation was so incredible she started leaking precum. "I think … I think I'd like to, though."

"No, you don't."

"Pretty sure I do," Rosalie said. Her voice had affected a permanent idleness. Nothing she said came with anything less than with a dreamlike haze. Her lips hovered an inch away from Zoey's cock. "Please?" she whispered, brushing hot air against Zoey's member. "I can … I can make you feel good."

"No." She said it as firmly as she could. "I don't want that." It was the most blatant lie to ever escape her lips, and she hadn't been some goody-two-shoes teenager, growing up. But maybe the refusal would save Rosalie from her own mistakes, from the altered state of mind she operated under.

Rosalie hesitated. Under any rational state, the words would have stopped Rosalie's advances in their tracks.

But she was too far gone.

"How far do you think I can get?" Rosalie asked. "It'll reach to my stomach if I go all the way down, won't it? And when you cum, it'll go straight in. Wow … I really want to see what that feels like."

"Rosie," Zoey said, trying the nickname a second time to grab her attention. It did little, so she tried again. Because Rosalie was leaning forward. "Rosie, don't—"

Then her lips pressed into Zoey's cock in a gentle kiss, and her head carried forward even further, splitting her plush lips open. A soft, warm, wet heat enveloped Zoey's cock.

She'd done it.

That was Rosalie's wet tongue pressing on the lower half of Zoey's cock.

Zoey's head fell back as a groan escaped her, eyes fluttering closed.

Rosalie pushed her head further, and Zoey's cock hit the back of her throat. Her tongue stroked playfully at the bottom of her shaft.

"Fuck," Zoey said. "You really shouldn't … Rosie, this isn't …"

Rosalie sucked, applying pressure, and Zoey's protests were cut off with a moan. Rosalie pulled her head back, and Zoey's hips bucked forward in anger, that she'd been suddenly deprived of her warm hole.

"You taste amazing," Rosalie said breathlessly. "Everything I thought it would be." She reached out and grabbed Zoey's shaft, then slapped her face with the rod of girlmeat. Zoey sucked in a breath of air, and Rosalie grinned up at her. There was something wild in her eyes. Not a vacancy, like before, but as if the aphrodisiac had only brought her desires to the forefront, had stripped her inhibitions away, and now here Rosalie was, in her true, released nature. In fact, she sounded more lucid now than she had for the past hour. "I've always preferred girls, and you're so my type … but the cock?" Rosalie ran a tongue across her length. The stroking of soft velvet lips was agony, and bliss. "Well. It's everything I didn't know I wanted."

"R-Rosie," Zoey said. "Don't, don't—"

"Oh, quiet, you. Your mana is running low, and I'm helping you stock up. Nothing more. Now … let's find an answer to that question."

Rosalie re-enveloped her cock with her mouth, and this time, instead of stopping when Zoey's cock reached the back of her throat, she pushed forward, forcing Zoey's member to bend, to accommodate entry. Then, bumping into the back of her mouth, into hot, slippery flesh, hitting that tight upper-seal.

Zoey's hips moved by themselves. She shoved herself forward, cock piercing that tight ring and sliding into the long, spit-lubricated shaft of Rosalie's throat. She whined in satisfaction, hips grinding side to side in pleasure. In Rosie's throat. I'm in her throat.

'How far do you think I can go?' she had said. Zoey guessed they were finding that out together.

Rosalie reached out and grabbed Zoey's ass, for purpose of leverage. She wiggled her head back and forth as she tried to get the huge blockage of girlmeat down deeper, further toward her stomach. Zoey wished she could help. Rosalie was really giving it her best effort, and Zoey would love to see if she could succeed. But her hands were—

The vines at her wrists released, freeing her arms.

Zoey didn't even think about it. Her hands went to Rosalie's platinum blonde hair, and she shoved her head down with all her strength.

Another two inches slid down Rosalie's throat. Rosalie choked, throat spasming as she coughed and hacked at the unnatural entry. A bit of teeth scraped against skin, but Zoey didn't mind.

Rosalie didn't pull back at the sudden force. Instead, the grip at Zoey's ass grew stronger, and the failure—the embarrassment of choking—spurred Rosalie on. She shoved, and made it another inch down.

Only halfway. For anyone but Zoey, Rosalie would have her nose buried in the soft hair of her partner's pubic hair. But for Zoey, she had so much further to go.

They worked together. Rosalie's throat wasn't conditioned for this, that much was obvious. And enthusiasm could only go so far. But combined with Zoey's grunting, bucking efforts, the press of her hands into Rosalie's soft, white-blonde hair, and Rosalie's own gripping of Zoey's ass and the shoving-down of her head, it finally happened.

Rosalie's nose buried into Zoey's pelvis..

More than the sensation, the sight of Rosalie's pretty, watering, ice-blue eyes blinking up at Zoey in supreme satisfaction was what made her cock spasm in unexpected pleasure. The orgasm appeared all at once, nothing like the slow-build before. Zoey cried out in half-pain, half-pleasure as her girth spasmed in Rosalie's throat.

Zoey forced her eyes not to close—forced herself to hold eye contact with the pretty girl who had her nose buried in her pubic hair—while her cock erupted hot seed directly into her stomach. At the first spurt, Rosalie's throat contracted and shivered, and her entire body heaved at the alien sensation of having hot fluid injected down fourteen inches of her throat. Her head drifted sideways as she became dizzy, but Zoey helped her out: she slammed Rosalie's head back down, reinstating the tight press of nose-into-crotch right as the second spurt erupted into her stomach.

Zoey stuffed Rosalie's stomach full of life-giving white spunk, even as Rosalie's eyes fluttered from lack of oxygen. She didn't make an effort to pull back, despite starting to lose consciousness.

She'd be fine. Zoey kept going. Kept emptying herself. Rosalie had worked hard for this, and she deserved every drop. If she passed out, that was fine. Zoey wouldn't stop until she'd been expended.

And eventually, she was.

The sensation of fourteen inches of cock sliding up and out of Rosalie's throat was the best thing she'd ever felt, and the noise—the pop of cockhead separating from Rosalie's lips—was the best sound she'd ever heard. A day of firsts for both of them.

Rosalie collapsed sideways, only half—a quarter—conscious from a lack of air. She gasped and choked as she lay on the floor, hacking out white, sticky seed, small portions of the buckets of semen Zoey had emptied into her, which her stomach couldn't accommodate.

Finally, Rosie mumbled, "That was amazing …"

Then passed out.

When Rosalie stirred to consciousness, the aphrodisiac had worn off. Zoey was still hanging from the wall.

Rosalie pushed herself to a sitting position, confusion plain on her face as she blinked and took in her surroundings. She looked at the spit-soaked, now-soft member between Zoey's legs, then how she still hung from the wall. Zoey waited quietly for her reaction. Now that the mind-erasing pleasure had racked through her body and passed, Zoey had come to terms with the situation. What had happened. That despite Zoey's best efforts, Rosalie had been taken over by a chemical influence and done something she wouldn't have otherwise.

How would she handle that? Zoey wished she could have done more to prevent the situation, for all the bliss it had provided. She wished when the vines had released her arms, she hadn't given in to the euphoria of the moment. Shame crawled in her stomach.

The distraught expression was only to be expected.

"Are you okay?" Zoey asked gently.

"Me? Am I okay? Oh my gods, what did I do to you? Zoey—"

"It's fine," Zoey said.

"Fine? I—I—"

"You didn't do anything to me," Zoey said firmly. "I was hoping to snap you out of it. That's why I said to stop. On my side, I'm perfectly happy with what happened."

Rosalie reeled back. She blinked several times.

"Are you okay?" Zoey repeated.

Rosalie's brow furrowed down. "I'm—you're really fine? I didn't—?"

"No."

Her body sagged in relief. She staggered to her feet. "Let's get you out of there. I should have—I should have listened to you. To stop, take a break. Why am I so stubborn?"

Despite having that exact thought, Zoey chose to reassure her. "You weren't in your right mind. I'm sorry that happened to you. And I'm sorry I joined in."

"It's fine. I—" Rosalie paused, then scorched red. "Worse things could've happened," she settled on. "Don't … be upset. I'm not."

So maybe neither of them were too unhappy about what had happened. Like Rosalie's had a moment earlier, Zoey's shoulders sagged in relief.

"I can't believe I got all the way down," Rosalie said.

Zoey blinked, and Rosalie flushed again—even though her previous hadn't yet settled.

"I mean, I'm just saying. fourteen inches! Gods, have you seen that thing?" Rosalie wasn't a person who rambled, but here she was, rambling. She rubbed at her throat. "Can't believe it even fit. It's like, the size of my fist. That pink liquid must have been more than an aphrodisiac. It had to have helped, somehow." Rosalie's hand went to her stomach. "And I'm so full … you shot so much into me, I can feel it sloshing around."

Rosalie's easily offered words did something to stir Zoey's dormant cock, regardless of how it had just been sucked dry. "Well. You worked for it, so. Got everything you deserved."

Rosalie stared at her.

"You're disgusting," she said.

Zoey laughed.

Rosalie huffed, and a hint of a smile quirked her lips. She got to work peeling Zoey from the wall. The vines yielded with surprising ease.

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Zoey and Rosalie worked through the crumbling halls of the shard, avoiding traps and fighting off a variety of strange monsters. Eventually, they pushed through a thick pair of drooping double-doors, and into a room stuffed with boxes, weapon racks, and rusted suits of armor. Rosalie made a noise of appreciation.

"Loot," she said. "It's about time we bumped into some. Hopefully my armor's here."

The casual way the serious girl used the game-like terminology was still something Zoey hadn't accustomed herself to. But when it was a fundamental aspect of her world, of course she didn't think twice about using a word as normally relegated to video games as 'loot'.

As for Rosalie's armor being in this room … well, for all it would be practical, Zoey secretly hoped not.

At least they'd have weapons besides their fists, now. Not that Zoey would be using one. Rosalie had made it clear the only thing Zoey was allowed to do was stay back and sling ice spikes when she had the opportunity.

"You can tell the quality of items by the metal bands," Rosalie said idly, gesturing at the side of the room, where a large, rusted chest sat between weapon racks. "Steel. So, uncommon. Better than copper, but not likely anything good. I told you the rarities, right?"

"Common, uncommon, rare, superior, and mythic." The topic had been brought up when Zoey had asked what having a 'mythic-tier' rune meant, which apparently her Rune of Bonding was. Then again, of course the rune granted by a literal goddess was the best it got. "What kind of stuff is inside, usually?"

"Varies." Rosalie delivered a harsh kick into the side of the chest, then danced backward.

"Checking for mimics?" Zoey asked.

Rosalie blinked at her. "I thought your memories—" she shook her head. "No, clearly you've retained some basic information. Still, you remember mimics, but not runes? Or spells?"

Well. The mimic thing had been a joke, something that had escaped from her without her thinking too hard about what she was saying. And she only knew of mimics from osmosis of pop culture back on Earth. "I guess," Zoey said, the real explanation obviously too tricky to get into—and Ephy had barred her from doing so, anyway. She'd rather not find out what happened when she ignored a goddess's direct order.

"Hm." Rosalie didn't spend overmuch time reading into Zoey's response, because why would she? "Well, let's see what we've got."

Zoey approached, leaning forward as Rosalie cracked open the chest, curious despite herself. Because while video games had never been too much of her thing, the idea of loot was … appealing, she guessed? Like opening a mystery box. It could be anything.

The lid swung open, and …

A black void filled the interior. Rosalie didn't seem surprised, but the sight gave Zoey pause. Why had she expected something normal?

Rosalie reached in, rummaged for a second, then pulled out the first item their adventures had yielded: a small pouch of brown fabric, with about a fist's size of material in it.

"Alchemy reagents?" Rosalie said. "What a droll start."

"How can you tell?" She hadn't looked inside the bag.

Rosalie gave her an odd look. "Inspect."

Right. For the second time in as many minutes, Zoey's brain was working rationally, instead of in the context of the magical world she found herself in. Not many things could be Inspected, but loot was explicitly one.

[Coruscant Flameroot, Powdered: A fine, gritty substance useful in the preparation of potions that inflame or mute the senses.

"Inflame or mute the senses?" Zoey echoed.

"Is that what it says?"

"Huh? Yeah?"

"I'm not an alchemist," she reminded Zoey. "The description for me is just, 'a fine, gritty red substance used in alchemy'. Your Identify skill affords you more information." Rosalie paused. "But … inflames the senses?"

"Like an aphrodisiac?"

They each paused at the reminder of what had happened earlier. Rosalie blushed and cleared her throat. "Reagents often have wide usage. But as one application, perhaps. It would be fitting of the shard's theme to give us something like this." She handed it to Zoey and brushed forward. "But I have no use for it. It's yours."

So Zoey got everything Rosalie didn't want—the discarded, useless items. But she couldn't really complain. Rosalie was the professional here, and the one doing all the hard work of clearing the shard. Zoey hadn't had to grapple down furred monsters in a blur of limbs and claws. Wouldn't have been able to, frankly, even with the spells she could now cast.

Using another of those strange abilities afforded to her, Zoey vanished the pouch into her inventory. So weird, she thought, staring at the empty space in her hand where the pouch had just been. Now it sat somewhere in the back of her mind, to be pulled out of pocket-space when she needed it.

Rosalie continued to withdraw items from the chest, pulling objects from the inky void, inspecting them, then either handing them off to Zoey, setting them to the side, or stashing them in her inventory. She commented on each. Many of the items were expected for a world running on RPG-like principles. Health potions, small weapons, rations (actually quite relevant; she was starting to get hungry), and other miscellanea.

Seeing Rosalie sort through the items popped a thought into her head.

"Hey, what's in your inventory? From before, I mean." Before the two of them had gotten into this mess.

"The shard emptied it. So nothing."

"It can do that?"

"It took my armor and weapons," she said dryly, "so why couldn't it take my inventory?"

"I guess." She'd assumed the dimensional space was sacrosanct, for some reason. "Is that common?"

"No. Nothing about you, this shard, or our circumstances is common, Zoey."

Fair. "But you'll be getting it back?"

"I hope. Presumably, worst-case, it'll be as part of the boss loot." Rosalie was quiet for a bit. "I, as most Wayfarers, kept almost every coin I owned in my inventory, so I really hope it's not lost to the ether. That would be … unfortunate."

"Huh," Zoey said. "That sucks." She sympathized. Rosalie had effectively had her bank account zeroed out, and with no guarantees it would be returned.

And hearing how coins were the dominant currency of this world, she briefly wondered what was awaiting her on the other side of this deadly complex of vines and stone. What was the technology level like? Were there other races? Elves and orcs or whatever? Goblins? Dragons? Just how game-like were they talking, here? How fantasy inspired? She guessed she'd be finding out sooner or later, but now wasn't the time to broach the subject. If ever. It would be hard to ask questions like that without Rosalie becoming suspicious about her 'memory-issues'.

The next item Rosalie pulled out was a small wooden box. She cracked it open, and her brow furrowed down. Zoey leaned over to see what had prompted the confusion.

She blinked.

[Coldsteel Adornments: Rare. Six pairs of two, growing in size, to accommodate the most and least adventurous. Effects active only when both are in use.

Nestled in folds of black cloth were six pairs of steel buttplugs.

Zoey started laughing. She couldn't help herself. Half from surprise, half from—well, because it was fucking funny. What the hell?

"What?" Rosalie asked. "Why are you laughing? I don't get it. Is it … jewelry? 'Most and least adventurous'?"

Zoey slunk to the ground as her body racked with laughter. The fact Rosalie was blinking at the sex toys cluelessly made the whole thing even funnier. "Oh my god, that's so amazing."

"What? Explain!"

"Jewelry … it definitely is, for a sense of the word …" she barely managed to wheeze out.

"Explain." Rosalie stamped her foot in an uncharacteristically petulant manner. She seemed highly displeased that Zoey knew what was going on and she didn't. "Zoey! How are they 'jewelry of a kind'? Stop laughing."

"It's where they go. It's … non-traditional jewelry. Slightly more intimate than most."

She looked down at the box, pausing at Zoey's description. Realization dawned—or a suspicion, at least—and she gently placed the box down on the floor, then slid it over to Zoey with her foot.

"I am appalled," Rosalie said simply. "Clearly, these belong to you, and your disgusting class."

Zoey's laughter resurfaced, which was a shame, because she'd finally started to calm down.

"It doesn't say what the effects are," Zoey said once she'd regained control. "Is that normal?"

"Most artifacts take experimentation to discover their full use. The Inspect skill only assists."

"Huh," Zoey said. "So. Wanna find out, then? Only works in pairs."

Rosalie didn't dignify the question with a response. Zoey had only suggested it to tease; obviously Rosalie wouldn't be doing that.

Though she admitted she was curious, now … what did the toys do? Something combat related? It would need to be a pretty big benefit to justify getting into a fight with a steel plug shoved up her butt. That couldn't be comfortable. Or conducive to movement.

She tucked the item away into her inventory, to be dealt with later.

Rosalie pulled out three bottles of clear liquid next, and disdain twisted her face a half second later. Zoey's giggling picked back up, because she could guess what they were—but she checked with Inspect to verify.

[Bottle of Lubricant: Thick and long-lasting. Apply water to wash away.

"How considerate," Zoey grinned. She looked up at the ceiling and pressed her hands together in a praying gesture. "Thank you, Miss Shard-Overlord. I'll put it to good use."

"What in the world are you doing?"

"Thanking our generous benefactor."

Rosalie made a noise of disgust and tossed the bottles at her, which Zoey fumbled, then vanished into her inventory. Rosalie reached back into the chest.

And it kept getting better.

This time, she pulled out actual jewelry—one that didn't stretch the definition of the word (and stretch some other things along with it).

But …

[Nipple Rings of Alacrity: Rare. Engraved with two unidentified effect sigils.

"You're kidding me," Rosalie said. "Rare equipment, and it's, it's, it's this?"

Zoey grinned, but didn't tease. "How do you 'identify' the sigils? You said, experimentation?"

"Can provide an idea, if the effects are noticeable. But taking them to an artificer is better practice. Especially because not all effects are friendly. We'll want to identify almost everything through an artificer—item descriptions aren't necessarily trustworthy." She was holding the thin silver studs by her fingertips, and away from her body, as if they were poisonous. Rosalie's discomfort with the items continued to be hilarious.

"It's a shame neither of us are pierced," Zoey said. "We'll have to get that done once we make it to safety."

Rosalie raised her eyebrows Zoey's way. "First, that certainly will not be happening, and second, that 'we' of yours is highly prospective."

"Prospective? Sorry?"

"You're implying we'll stay a party after I've escorted you to a city."

"Oh," Zoey said.

That had been a quick way to bring her mood crashing down. Because yeah, she'd kind of assumed that, even though Rosalie had, earlier, told her there was no such guarantee. Rosalie had goals—real ones—and Zoey's incompetence was only partially made up for by her supposedly powerful abilities.

"Right," Zoey said.

Rosalie seemed vaguely upset by Zoey's reaction, or that she had brought it up in the first place, but she didn't retract the statement. She focused back on the task at hand: emptying out the chest.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

Zoey had never been a person to sulk, so Rosalie's less-than-encouraging statement didn't keep her stuck in the mud for long. If anything, it let Zoey know that she needed to be putting greater effort in. That if she wanted Rosalie as a long-term addition to this adventure, Zoey needed to take the serious side of her lewd transmigration more … well, seriously.

And she wanted that. To have Rosalie by her side for the extended future. A surprising amount. The reminder that Zoey couldn't, in fact, take that for granted had her looking at Rosalie in a new light. And Zoey had already had a high opinion to begin with.

Rosalie's companionship was the kind that had to be earned. Not as a prize, a reward, because that was a gross way to view it, but because effort deserved effort, goodness goodness, and so on, and Rosalie had gleaming qualities pouring from her in droves. Sure, she could be snippish, and she might be drowning in denial when it came to a few matters of the heart (in a less-than-appropriate sense of 'matters-of-the-heart'), but that was where Zoey's complaints ended, really.

They hacked their way through the stone and vine-infested interior of the shard, slaying monsters, avoiding traps, and clearing rooms—armed with weapons, now, which did wonders for Rosalie's already-competent fighting skills—and eventually they emerged from the crumbling cathedral and out into a twilit forest.

Zoey had been briefly confused, wondering whether they'd escaped the shard, but Rosalie had shaken her head and explained plenty of shards progressed in aesthetics; they'd simply entered the next 'phase', for lack of a better word. They set off down a beaten footpath which winded between crooked trees. Leaves rustled in the wind, providing an ambience that was a nonsensical mix between eerie and calming. The breeze set a chill on her skin that gave the two of them a legitimate reason for wanting clothes, beyond modesty. Goosebumps were set prickling as they plodded down, seeking the exit of the shard. And presumably, whatever boss monster lay in wait, guarding it.

Zoey asked Rosalie how she knew which way to go, and she responded that she didn't, not for certain, but that the obvious paths were more often the correct one. Seeing how there was a whole pocket-dimension to explore, if that maxim hadn't held true, simply finding the boss would take an unreasonable amount of time. So, the dirt path that winded from the cathedral's entrance was the obvious candidate.

Rosalie's sharp senses noticed the sound of moving water before Zoey's did. She steered them off the path, taking a detour. They picked across felled logs and sunk their toes into the dark, moist loam of the forest—had it rained recently?—before bumping into their destination: a burbling hot springs which probably didn't make logical sense for its existence, but hey, incoherent pocket dimension, remember?

Steam wafted from the pool. At the edge—the deep end, it seemed—a waterfall pounded into the water, throwing up sprays of mist. Rosalie seemed especially happy to have been given an opportunity to clean herself off. Zoey considered asking whether it could be a trap, but Rosalie didn't seem concerned, and this wasn't like the vine situation; she trusted Rosalie knew what was going on.

Rosalie sank into the warm water, step by step, body quickly obscuring as she walked into the steam. Zoey followed after her. It was, unsurprisingly, hot. It took a second for her to adjust to the warmth, but once she had, the heated water coaxed out the exhaustion and tension from the previous several hours. She tossed handfuls of water into her face and hair, then scrubbed, working out the grime that had collected, then afterward, dug under her nails to clean those out, too. Rosalie was doing similar.

After the practical matters had been attended to, they simply relaxed. Rosalie waded out to underneath the waterfall and let the water pour over her. Zoey didn't think hot springs usually had waterfalls feeding them, but she'd seen, and would be seeing, a lot stranger in the coming … god, how many years of her life? How long would she be here? In this world? She didn't want to mentally delve into those topics yet, so she shied away and let herself be distracted by more attention-grabbing matters.

Like Rosalie. The outline of her back, and her long platinum hair that dipped into the water and splayed out, normally reaching all the way to her lower back. She'd complained about not having something to tie it with; it had been annoying for her to handle during her fights. It was an otherwise impractical aspect to a strictly practical girl. Zoey suspected she was fond of it. For good reason. It was gorgeous. Everything about Rosalie was gorgeous.

"I can feel you ogling, you know."

Zoey started in surprise. Rosalie continued to demonstrate an awareness of her surroundings that bordered on the supernatural. Considering the world Zoey found herself in, it might be just that: supernatural.

"Not ogling," Zoey said. "I'm just wondering how you're so pretty."

The words surprised her as much as they did Rosalie, who turned and blinked at her. Her cheeks colored, and she looked back forward. "Pretty. That's not the compliment you think it is."

"You'd rather me say 'dangerous'," Zoey said, knowing Rosalie in at least some small way, by now. "Or 'regal'. Deadly as you are elegant. Those are all true, too. But pretty is the word that popped in my head."

The waterfall pounded against the pool, filling the silence that was Rosalie's response, and Zoey hesitated, wondering whether she'd been too direct.

But Rosalie finally huffed. "And what, exactly, has prompted this barrage of flattery?"

There wasn't annoyance in her tone, which spurred Zoey on. "I don't know. Just wanted to say it. I don't have much of a filter."

"That much is apparent."

Zoey waded forward. Rosalie didn't turn, though she definitely heard the sloshing water as she closed the distance. Zoey took that as good news—that she hadn't been told to stop.

Arriving behind Rosalie, she reached out and took long locks of platinum hair in her hands. Rosalie's hair was wet, darker than normal, but still silky, pale, and gorgeous. She played with it for a bit, running her fingers through and separating tresses, squeezing water out as she traced gently down the length. She was surprised Rosalie let her.

"Long hair's always felt like too much of a hassle," Zoey murmured. "But when I see yours, I get the point. Makes me want to grow it out."

Rosalie turned, and Zoey let the platinum locks slide from her hands. Rosalie wore a perplexed expression, and she studied Zoey. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry?" Zoey was a bit distracted by the six or more inches of height she had over the shorter girl. And the intensity of her eyes, capturing her like they had every time before. Everything about her is heart-stopping. How is it fair?

Rosalie blushed, then looked away. "Stop looking at me like that."

Zoey blinked. She'd accidentally won a staring contest, lost in Rosalie's eyes. "Sorry." She didn't know what she was apologizing for, but it felt like she'd been caught doing something inappropriate.

A short silence.

Rosalie huffed. "Fine."

"Fine?"

Rosalie grabbed Zoey's hand, and the two of them waded back to the shallow end. "It's really obvious. I'd rather you just ask, next time. Not all this nonsense."

"Ask what?" Zoey hadn't a clue what was going on.

"You need relief. That's why you said all that embarrassing stuff, and why you're acting like this." Rosalie pointedly didn't make eye contact as she dragged Zoey along. "Normally I don't suffer sycophants, but I suppose you're my responsibility. So fine."

"I didn't call you pretty because I wanted in your pants," Zoey said amusedly. "I told you, I just wanted to say it."

They were almost out of the spring now, and Rosalie's gorgeous, dripping body revealed itself bit by bit, no longer obscured by the steaming water. What Rosalie had implied hit her, suddenly. 'Fine'? 'Relief'? As in … she's going to help me?

That hadn't been Zoey's intention at all, but her lower half wasn't displeased with the development.

"I guess I'll start being more vocal," Zoey said with a grin, and a quickly growing member. "Who would've thought calling you pretty would get you going so fast?"

"I'm not 'going', thank you." She sniffed, and Zoey could make out the deep flush even from behind, splashes of red coloring the tops of her shoulders. "This is your problem. I'm just helping solve it."

"Sure," Zoey said, smirking. "Want me to keep laying them on? Should I say how you move like nobody I've ever seen? That such an intimidating, deadly-looking girl has no right having such soft, cute curves? That your eyes literally turn my brain off? Or how about—"

"Shut up. What's g-gotten into you?"

"No way." Zoey laughed, the stutter somehow the funniest thing she'd heard all day. "You do, don't you? You have a praise kink. That's so—"

Zoey's teasing was cut off with a gasp, as Rosalie turned on her. "Ah," she said. "I figured out how to turn the nonsense off. Thank the heavens."

Her slim hand stroked up and down Zoey's length, derailing her train of thought.

"Really," Rosalie said. "I already told you I'd help. What was all that for?"

"M-Meant it," Zoey gasped between strokes. "You're gorgeous. Stunning. And more than that, good-hearted, caring, beautiful inside and out. Y-you, you're, ahh—fuck me." Her ability to string together sentences frayed as Rosalie picked up her pace, and a second hand joined the first, determinedly attempting to shut Zoey up. But she wouldn't be defeated so easily. "I barely know you, but every minute in your company, my opinion—my opinion—" she panted as her stomach squirmed with pleasure, "s-shit, that's, that's so—keep going like that, I—" Zoey whined, hips bucking into Rosalie's hands, then forced herself to focus. "My opinion of you goes higher," she finished. "I'm glad I met you."

"Is this a confession?"

Zoey couldn't make out the expression in Rosalie's eyes. Their gazes hadn't separated for a second, and the intoxicating eye-contact amplified the feeling of Rosalie's encouraging strokes to an almost painful degree.

"No," Zoey said. "I'm not saying I've fallen for you. Just that it'd be easy." Too easy.

Rosalie's hands worked down her length, then back up, over and over. The smaller girl was shockingly composed, for so normally being a disaster when it came to intimate matters. The situation with the vines must have closed that gap, and in no small way. She studied Zoey with a blank look on her face, and Zoey wondered if she was being too honest. But her brain wasn't working like it should. Rosalie's soft, powerful hands were coaxing out sentences she would normally have been more discretionary with.

"It'd be easy?" Rosalie said quietly. "To fall for me?"

"I think it would," Zoey replied.

For close to a minute, only the lewd whines of Zoey's pleasure filled the air.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rosalie finally said. "Now get down. We don't have all day, and we'll need to clean up once we're done."

Rosalie guided Zoey to the floor, then pushed her down so she was splayed out, half-leaned up by her elbows. Rosalie climbed on her lap and continued stroking, but now with her body supported by Zoey's thighs. Her crotch pressed into the base of Zoey's cock. It was a highly compromising position.

"You have lubricant, don't you?" Rosalie asked. Her voice—and posture—was still all business. Only the red on her face, and the wetness between her thighs, betrayed her inner emotions. Zoey's words had affected her. But in what way … well, Zoey wasn't sure, yet.

But she'd only said the truth. So, however it worked out—at least she had that.

And her brain was occupied with other matters. She could only stave off the lust for so long. She'd said her piece, so now it was time to enjoy Rosalie's help.

Summoning that bottle of lubricant she'd acquired from earlier, Zoey poured the slick clear liquid onto the top of her cock, and Rosalie got to work rubbing her hands into it, spreading the slippery stuff. Zoey watched Rosalie stare intently as she worked away. There was something predatory, hungry, in her eyes. Her mouth had fallen open, lips parted in absent concentration.

"Do you …" Rosalie started, then cut off.

"Do I what?"

Rosalie bit her lip. She was still staring at her cock, and not Zoey. "Do you want to … use my chest?"

Zoey blinked rapidly.

"I'll squeeze them together, like this." Rosalie stopped stroking to press her tits together. "You can go between them. Um. If you want."

A beat of silence, then Zoey leaned up. Rosalie squeaked in surprise as her seat tipped her over, and she fell into the grass. Zoey climbed over her, taking Rosalie's offer, and with shaking hands guided her cock to her sternum, just beneath her breasts. Zoey wasn't the only one whose composure had frayed; Rosalie panted in excitement, and she squeezed her tits together, shaping Zoey's new plaything. Zoey thrust into it. Her cock, thoroughly covered in lubricant, slid easily between the excruciatingly soft, pressed-together skin. The friction, and pressure, wasn't as gratifying as Rosalie's powerful hands, but the idea it was Rosalie's tits she had her cock stuffed between, that Rosalie had been the one to suggest this lewd act, made up the deficiency. The feeling wiped away her thoughts, and her consciousness distilled down to the slide of her pulsing meat between Rosalie's tits. She humped away awkwardly, supporting herself by her hands and her crotch resting on Rosalie's stomach, pistoning her hips in long strokes. With her impressive length, she bumped her cockhead into Rosalie's chin with every back and forth.

Rosalie leaned her head forward, and the next stroke had her cock impacting her soft, rosy lips. They parted, and Zoey's cock pierced into her wet mouth—then popped out with the back-stroke. Rosalie leaned her head in further, and when she caught Zoey next, Zoey managed to work into a rhythm where she was thrusting both between Rosalie's soft, pressed-together breasts, and inside Rosalie's wet, welcoming mouth, tongue teasing circles around her cockhead.

"You want to know what I think?" Zoey panted between lewd jerks of her hips. The words came unbidden, spilling from her mouth without a thought. "What I think, Rosie, is that for all your denials, all that prim and proper posture, you like this. Being used. Servicing me. Your tight, fuckable body, doing whatever it can to milk out pleasure." She watched for Rosalie's reaction, but Zoey had gotten it right. There was no outrage in the husky lust descending into her eyes. Zoey's demeaning words had stirred something in her. Rosalie's head continued to bob, mouth latched to her cock, awkwardly meeting Zoey's pistoning as she thrusted between her tits. "What I think," she continued gruffly, emboldened by the lack of protest, "is that a certain gorgeous princess has been caged up too long. That she's gotten used to respect. To people walking on eggshells." Zoey pulled out of Rosalie's mouth, and her tits, then shuffled down so she could lean and murmur into her ear, "and that really, she just wants to be called what she is."

"And that is?" Rosalie's breathless response came, mouth no longer occupied.

Zoey's spit-and-lubricant covered cock pulsed against Rosalie's stomach, scalding both their skin. "A fucktoy," Zoey whispered, lips not an inch from her ear. "A cock-hungry slut. A girl who wants nothing more to be stuffed. Filled up. Who knows why she's been given so many soft curves, and wet, warm holes."

"That's not true," Rosalie said huskily, "That's not … who I am …"

She sounded doubtful.

Zoey's hand slid down Rosalie's stomach, and to between her legs. Rosalie's hips bucked of their own accord, pressing her pussy into Zoey's hand, seeking pressure. "Your body," Zoey murmured in Rosalie's ear, "is the more honest participant." She rubbed tight, hard circles into Rosalie's pussy, amazed at just how wet she was, and how instantly her fingers were drenched. Rosalie writhed under her. "So," she whispered, "here's your chance." Her index and ring finger played between Rosalie's lower lips, teasing entry. "Tell me what you want, that's it, and you'll get it."

Rosalie's hips tried to buck into Zoey's hand, to penetrate herself with Zoey's fingers, but Zoey had expected it, and her hand danced back. Zoey laughed softly into her ear. "Nice try. Say it. That's the only way." She rubbed smaller circles into her entrance, on the very edge of slipping in, but not. She could tell by the way Rosalie was whining the sensation was killing her. The expectation. The need.

"Nothing to say," Rosalie finally gasped. "Not sure, ahh, what you're talking about."

"Come on, now," Zoey tutted. "It's just us here. Alone. No one to hear. It'll be our secret. So please. Listen to what this," she pressed the base of her palm into Rosalie's core, wrenching a groan from Rosalie, and another writhing of her pelvis, "is telling you."

Zoey continued to tease, and finally:

"Fine. D-Do it. I, I need you to, to—" she couldn't finish.

"To do what?" Zoey asked sweetly.

"Make me feel good."

"How?"

"Zoey, please. Your fingers. Fuck me. Fill me up."

"And who's asking? Is it my little fucktoy?"

"Zoey."

"Answer me."

"Yes. Fine. Okay? It's your f-fucktoy. Your cock hungry whore. Your stupid slut is begging to feel good. Okay?" Her lower half thrashed desperately for relief. "So please. Help her. She wants to cum. She wants it so badly."

"That wasn't hard, was it?" Zoey sank her middle two fingers into Rosalie's begging heat.

This, at least, Zoey wasn't an amateur at, as with the new equipment between her legs. Zoey had always preferred girls, so she'd picked up a thing or two. She explored Rosalie's insides, noting which movements caught her breath, which ones had her hands scrambling at the grass for something to hold on to, where curling her fingers had Rosalie's toes doing the same.

She made sure to be mean about it. She didn't offer relief quickly. Despite how little they'd done, Rosalie was already riding the edge of a crashing, pulsing orgasm, but Zoey knew the signs well enough to keep Rosalie on the edge of bliss, but not send her crashing over. She whined and protested, knowing what Zoey was doing, but when her hand came down to find relief herself, Zoey swatted it away. The second time, Zoey threatened to stop. So Rosalie was forced to endure.

And she endured. Until she couldn't.

Her begging turned pitiful.

"Please. Zoey. Let me. I'm so close. Please. It's, it's right there. I want to feel good. Let me come. Please. Please. I need to. I need to. Fuck. Zoey. I can't, I can't, I can't."

Zoey could hear the tears in her eyes, the burning frustration of being denied something she so desperately needed.

"Okay. But it's only fair if you do something for me, in return."

"Anything. Anything."

"I want you to be honest with yourself."

"How? I, I will. Just, please, let me—"

"Shhh."

Rosalie went quiet, besides the panting and whining.

"You've been stealing looks," Zoey said. "It's not very subtle. You're obsessed, aren't you? Maybe I have an ego … I want you to tell me what you think of it."

"What?"

"Put it into words. And you'll finally get relief." Zoey curled her fingers to emphasize her point, drawing a gasp from Rosalie.

"I c-cant. Too, too embarrassing …"

"Then I guess this is where it ends." Zoey's fingers slid from inside Rosalie, trails of her arousal bridging from her fingers.

"No," Rosalie burst out. "No. Keep going. I will."

She resumed. "So?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Just be honest."

"But. I don't know. Fuck. It's, it's perfect. Obviously. I wanted it inside me the moment we met. I want it in me now. It's so big. It would hurt. I want it to hurt. For it to barely fit. For me to stretch around you. To feel every inch. To be full. For, for you to, oh my gods, oh my gods, it's, it's—" Rosalie's hands scrambled madly at the grass, tearing up clumps and digging into the soft dirt. Zoey thrusted her fingers in and out as fast as she could, the time for playful subtlety gone. Intensity. That was all that mattered. Building higher, going faster. Zoey used the thumb of her free hand to rub at Rosalie's clit as she thrusted two fingers in and out, filling the air with lewd, messy sounds. Rosalie whined and cried, her needy pussy spasming around Zoey's fingers, and her stomach shaking, her entire body shaking. To Zoey's surprise, Rosalie kept going—kept rambling on, fulfilling Zoey's earlier request. "I want you to shove into me, to not care. To use me. To use my hole. To treat me like the s-slut I am. To be yours. For you to make me yours. To bend me over, fuck me, use me, fill me up, stuff me with your hot seed, breed me, whenever you want, yours. Yours. Your object. Fuck. Please. Please." Her words were losing coherency, more shaking and stuttering than not, and the intensity of the orgasm wracking her body had brought tears to her eyes; she sobbed between demeaning statements, the pleasure having reached such an unbelievable high her brain had stopped being able to deal with it. She writhed, sobbed, gasped, shook, and clenched around Zoey's fingers, spasming from relief.

Her hands shot up, grabbing at Zoey's wrist, and knees clamping closed, begging her to stop. She finally acquiesced. Her fingers slid from her twitching pussy, trailing arousal. Rosalie sagged into the dirt.

Zoey kissed her way up her body, stopped with a gentle one on her cheek, wiped the tears from her eyes, and said, "I'm taking it you liked that."

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Rosalie lay next to her odd companion, heart finally slowing from its gallop, panting receding, and her brain returning to its better senses.

Mind no longer foggy from lust, several realizations dawned on her.

First, that the absolutely wicked things Zoey had done with her hands, the pleasure that she'd coaxed out of Rosalie's begging lower half, had been almost unbelievable. That if Rosalie hadn't seen Zoey's tabula anima herself, hadn't seen the listing of all the skills available to her, then Rosalie would be completely convinced that the dark-haired girl had had help, that her fingers had been aided by some gods-granted ability.

But they hadn't. She was just skilled. She knew how to turn Rosalie into a puddle of melting pleasure with just her fingers and some taunting words. It was a terrifying realization—the realization how desperately Rosalie wanted to explore that capability of her companion. Thoroughly. Again and again.

But that desire was precluded by the second discovery that fell upon Rosalie:

She could never look Zoey in the eyes again.

The things she'd said. The words that had been forced out of her. The honesty behind them.

She was mortified. Beyond mortified. There wasn't a word for it. Rosalie had never used such vulgar language in her entire life. And directed at herself?

'Fucktoy'? 'Cock-hungry whore'?

Such degenerate phrases had never even graced the ears of the youngest heiress of the d'Celestin family. And Rosalie had been the one to say them. To mean them.

Her reputation was forever marred, regardless of whether it reached the light of day. And Zoey's eyes weren't the only Rosalie could never meet again. Her father's, her sisters', even Rosalie's own gaze she wouldn't be able to meet in the mirror.

'Breed me'?

Rosalie had instructed another woman to breed her. As if she were some object. Some conquest. A collection of holes to be used as she desired.

The concept was ludicrous. How had it happened? How had Zoey extracted those insulting words from Rosalie's lips? And with such ease?

Rosalie knew how. She remembered the crashing waves of pleasure, the hungry need she'd never—not once—in her life felt. Not to that quantity. Not to that overwhelming, mind-erasing height.

Zoey shifted, and Rosalie, still wrapped in her embrace, jostled too. Her radiating heat—the soft curves pressing into Rosalie—was intoxicating. Skinship had never been something Rosalie was afforded. Not a d'Celestin. The royal family of the Deepshunter Guild was focused even by Wayfarer standards; Rosalie had known little comfort in her years, and never so easily offered as by the woman nestled into her side.

Partially, of course, because most would never dare. Should Father have seen how Zoey had treated her in this exchange, he'd employ brilliant minds from the Fractures over to invent a horrible retribution, something never before seen and which would live in infamy. Rosalie had been blatantly, painfully off-limits from the moment she'd started drawing suitor's eyes.

Which was fine. Rosalie had a purpose, and romance was not it.

Perhaps that was why the indulgence had been so intoxicating.

How … those words had slipped from her mouth.

Been coaxed and pulled from her mouth.

"Not to be pushy," Zoey mumbled into Rosalie's ear, the intimacy of her proximity sending shivers down her spine. "But I kinda stopped halfway to take care of you."

Take care of her. Zoey had certainly done that. She'd been melted down and reformed in powerful hands. In the curling, encouraging motions of fingers as they explored Rosalie's insides.

The rest of what Zoey had said hit her. 'Stopped halfway'. Zoey had been thrusting between her breasts, and into her mouth, when she'd pulled away to coerce Rosalie into saying the most embarrassing sentences she'd ever uttered—or had even passed her mind.

She wanted Rosalie to finish her off.

That emanating, scalding heat pressed against her stomach, Zoey spooning her like she was, was her cock draped across Rosalie's stomach. And it wasn't from a friendly interest. Rosalie's eyes flicked down, taking in the enormous girlcock laid across her.

Her heart rate picked up.

"Rosie?" Zoey murmured.

Rosalie realized she hadn't responded. But how could she? How could she ever speak again? After what Zoey had heard escape her lips?

What did she think of her, now? Not that a member of the d'Celestin family cared for the opinions of nobodies, and that was what Zoey was, truth told, but the concept still pained her. As a matter of her birthright, Rosalie always presented a solid appearance of herself. It was the one thing that mattered as much as competence, in the eyes of the d'Celestin family. Ability, reputation. The pillars on which Rosalie's life rested.

And now, the second—reputation—lay toppled, crumbling.

Your stupid slut is begging to feel good. She wants it so badly. Please. Please.

Rosalie thought she might heave.

"Hey," Zoey said softly. Her hand brushed away a strand of Rosalie's hair, and Rosalie realized just now that her eyes had squeezed shut. "Did I go too far? How are you?"

The gentle concern washed through Rosalie, and she breathed in—and it caught in her throat.

"Ah, shit," Zoey said. "I did, didn't I? I thought you were having fun."

Rosalie had been having a lot more than fun. The concept of 'Rosalie d'Celestin' hadn't even existed—what had been in its place was a sludge of hot, burning plasma, a thing that was almost a sentient being, but only wanted and needed and formed no true rational thoughts.

"I'm fine," Rosalie said. Her voice was locked with ironclad control. She knew how to be composed in face of anything. Terror, excitement, pain—she'd be trained for it from a startlingly young age.

She made an addendum. But not pleasure. The opposite. The deprivation, perhaps, worked against her.

Zoey's soft lips pressed into Rosalie's neck, then another kiss, just beneath her jaw. Rosalie couldn't help the way her neck craned, opening up the space—such an indecorous permission, and offered without thought. This is the problem.

"We all say stupid shit when we're about to come," Zoey said, amusement lacing her tone, as if this were some joke. "And I bullied it out of you, so you can't be blamed."

She knew exactly the source of Rosalie's distress. But of course she did. After what she'd done? Pretty obvious.

And for all the reassurance, Rosalie doubted most people stooped to the level Rosalie had, said the things she did, regardless of how lost in the moment they were. Even if they did, how 'most people' acted didn't matter. Rosalie wasn't most people. Couldn't be. She was held to higher standards.

And had fallen lower, regardless.

"Seriously," Zoey said. "If you keep pouting, I will start showering you in compliments. I'll be super embarrassing about it, over the top as possible."

Rosalie's eyes flicked open. For a brief moment they caught Zoey's—from so up close, those deep green irises bored into her—before Rosalie glanced away, as if burned. Because there wasn't any judgment there. Only teasing amusement. Which didn't make sense.

She leaned up, extricating herself from Zoey's grasp. "Let's get you taken care of. We need to keep moving."

"Nope," Zoey said. "I want you to tell me all that shit you said doesn't matter, first. Because it doesn't."

Rosalie stared down at her companion.

Zoey frowned, then sat up herself. She took Rosalie's face in both her hands. Rosalie had genuinely no idea why she allowed it. Why she leaned into it, even, and her eyes closed. "It doesn't," Zoey said. Somehow the sheer certainty in her voice started to convince her. "Not that there's anything wrong with being … all those things you said." Cock-hungry whore, Rosalie's mind supplied. "But what we say in the heat of the moment is for fun. It's a way to take a load off. And it says nothing about who we are. Not to mention, I never kiss and tell, so if you're worrying about that, you're insulting my honor."

How, exactly, this girl knew what was plaguing Rosalie's thoughts, and addressed each in order, baffled Rosalie. Was she that obvious? Or was it Zoey in specific who had such an easy read on her? She wanted to be upset. But with her face cradled in Zoey's hands, and being reassured in such a soft, concerned voice, she couldn't be.

Rosalie sighed, the tension somehow draining from her. "You're reading into things," she said simply, opening her eyes and meeting Zoey's. "I was merely tired. As reasonable, after what you did to me. Now please, stop being so dramatic."

A smile split Zoey's face. Rosalie's deflection—her attempts at nonchalance—might not have been as convincing as she'd hoped.

Why does she care that her reassurances worked?

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Let's get you taken care of."

"No complaints there," Zoey grinned. "If you're taking suggestions, can we do what we were before?"

For all her sweetness, she's still a pervert.

"Fine," Rosalie said. "But don't think it's becoming a regular thing."

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

Zoey's stomach clenched as she emptied herself onto Rosalie's face. Rosalie pumped diligently away, reverting to her hands from the previous use of her tits and mouth, and expertly milked out Zoey's sticky delivery.

Zoey really couldn't understate how amazing Rosalie's hands were. It didn't make sense how they were so soft, yet so powerful. Probably her upbringing, her extensive training in combat, which resulted in strength and dexterity in equal measure. And a helping of natural talent. But still, Zoey didn't know how such an ostensibly inexperienced girl—Zoey didn't know that for sure, but Rosalie's behaviors suggested it—knew with such intuitiveness which way to twist her wrists, and the perfect pace to slide her hands up and down to easily persuade Zoey's cock to empty itself.

Afterward, Zoey enjoyed the sight of Rosalie's chest and face so thoroughly covered in her warm girl spunk. Rosalie wiped her eyes clear, opened them, looked up at her, and leveled a scathing glare at Zoey's self-satisfied smirk. "You really are disgusting, I hope you know that."

Zoey would have teased back by alluding to Rosalie's whining, perverted confessions, but she didn't. Rosalie had been genuinely upset—something she'd worked past, Zoey thought, but it was best Zoey didn't dig too hard into the weakness.

Best saved for when Zoey had her fingers wriggling around inside Rosalie, anyway. Embarrassing admissions only stayed embarrassing when forced out sparingly.

They washed themselves off in the hotspring, Zoey's well of supernatural power now topped-off, then continued along their adventure.

"This is it," Rosalie said. "I'm almost certain."

"The boss room?"

"Just so."

It had only taken an hour more of pressing forward before they reached an ominous sign driven into the road, blackened at the edges and time-weary. 'BEWARE THE SLIME,' the decaying wood read, scrawled in black paint that hadn't dried before it started to drip, and while Zoey might not be genre-savvy, she could recognize the imminent warning of a boss encounter when she saw one.

"It's about time," Zoey said. "This ought to be interesting."

Rosalie frowned at Zoey, then hesitated, as if bracing herself for an unpleasant topic.

Zoey's stomach sank, Rosalie's next words obvious. "You don't want me to come with," Zoey preempted.

"It's for the best," Rosalie said slowly. "This won't be like the earlier fights. Bosses are smarter. They employ strategy. If they identify a weak point—"

"They'll dig into it." Zoey sighed. "You don't need to defend yourself. I get it." Zoey's time spent advancing through the shard had made the difference in their combat proficiency starkly apparent. And while it was a kick to her pride to be told joining in on the final fight would do nothing but cripple her partner, she'd much rather take a kick to the pride than end up dead. The brutal reality of the shard had been presented to Zoey, and while both she and Rosalie remained unharmed, that was on part of the second's competence, and not a lack of trying from the shard. They could be hurt. Killed, if they sufficiently misstepped. This adventure Zoey had been thrust into, while interesting, and even half-whimsical from its similarity to videogames back home, was still dangerous. It needed to be treated as the threat it represented.

So Zoey shoved down her protests and did what was better for the both of them. "Okay. Well. Good luck. And don't get hurt."

Rosalie sniffed. "This is a first advancement shard. Even without my armor, I'd be mortified to be injured, much less defeated."

Zoey believed her. But that didn't mean she wasn't worried, seeing her partner go off and tackle the most dangerous part of the shard herself. "Remember to expect something weird. This isn't a normal shard. Be ready for anything."

Rosalie paused, then grimaced. "Right. I can't say I'm looking forward to what it's put together. But some parts of the shard are normal … so perhaps the boss will be too."

Rosalie didn't sound like she believed it would. Zoey didn't, either. But they could hope.

Rosalie gave a serious nod to Zoey, then turned and advanced forward.

Zoey posted up under the base of a tree, watching her figure disappear into the darkness, and tried not to worry too much.

It'd been about an hour, not that Zoey had a way to tell the time, but she knew something had gone wrong. Rosalie had departed too long ago. Why hadn't Zoey asked when to expect her back? She'd assumed a handful of minutes, and when that had passed, she'd adjusted her estimate to ten or twenty. Then thirty.

An hour later, Zoey sat, stomach wringing in fear and expecting the worst.

Perhaps something odd had occurred. Maybe she'd won, and been shunted out of the shard as soon as she had. Zoey didn't know how these things worked. But just because Rosalie hadn't returned didn't mean she'd lost—(and thus been injured? Killed? Surely not the second?)—but simply that she couldn't return, which several situations could account for. Trapped, to name a second. Perhaps she'd fallen down a pit and needed Zoe's help. Which was absurd, but she was just spitballing, here. Or maybe she'd gotten lost.

Either way, it was time to go lend aid. Not that Zoey could provide much of that in the case Rosalie had lost. Because anything that could square up against Rosalie and come out the victor, Zoey would last, hm, a minute? To be enormously generous. Ten seconds, the more realistic estimate. One attack? Probably a single attack.

Maybe someday she could hold her own, but she hadn't had an opportunity to practice, and Zoe was hardly a talented fighter by her nature.

She stopped herself from pacing around in circles, then, deciding waiting only made things worse, and Rosalie wasn't returning, continued down the trail, passing the hunched-over sign declaring 'BEWARE THE SLIME'. Zoey gripped the light, spiked mace she'd raided from the armory earlier. Her spells were the more effective weapon, considering Zoey's lack of proficiency with arms, but its reassuring weight helped steady her. And maces didn't take much finesse to use at their simplest level, which was why Rosalie had suggested it.

The reason for the sign's warning became apparent in short order. Thick green goo appeared in clumps as Zoey worked her way forward, coating rocks, trees, and grass in shiny globs that glinted in the permanent moonlight of the pocket dimension. Zoey wondered if it was poisonous. Not acidic, at least; the grass and trees seemed unharmed. But why 'beware the slime', then? She forced away her curiosity and didn't attempt something as stupid as scooping up the green material. Bolded warnings scrawled on signs hammered into the floor were usually best heeded. Or so Zoey assumed.

Again, not an expert at this whole, dungeon-adventuring thing.

The beaten trail lost itself to nature as she ventured forward, disappearing just as the treeline opened up into a clearing. Zoey blinked as she took in the—frankly magnificent—sight laid in front of her.

An enormous clearing splayed out, the circular treeline almost unnaturally sharp, like it'd been cultivated—or designed by some greater Maker—to be that way. The stars seemed brighter, now, and the crescent-moon burned in the sky. The inappropriate word Zoey wanted to use was 'cinematic', but while at some moments in the past few hours Zoey had been able to treat her new reality as—well, not the reality it was—now was not one of those moments. The sight was breath-taking, but also unnerving. Ominous. It heralded a final encounter. An ending of some sorts.

Hers?

At the center lay an enormous pool of that green goo, larger even than the hot springs she and Rosalie had visited. The slime was thick and viscous and only slightly translucent; in such quantities it appeared almost as a solid object.

To the right of the pool, a blonde figure lay unconscious, supported by a boulder of the green slime. Her head and hair was visible, but the rest of her body was obscured by the slightly-opaque material; Zoey could only make out a shadow of it. Her stomach tightened in fear, because sure enough, Rosalie had lost.

How?

What did that say for Zoey?

And what had she lost to?

The only solace Zoey took was that it looked like she'd been captured, not killed. She seemed alive. Though from this distance, the extent of her injuries was difficult to make out. Zoey needed to get closer.

She walked hesitantly forward, rolling her grip on her weapon, feeling comically out of place, and unprepared. She wasn't some warrior. Even keeping her feet moving forward toward the grim reality that awaited her was difficult. She swallowed, hard.

Zoey made it halfway to Rosalie before the pool of slime shivered. She froze in her tracks, a deer in headlights, and watched ripples of green shake the liquid.

Beware the slime. Guess I'm finding out why.

At the shore of the lake, a figure coalesced, roiling from the bubbling edge and taking shape. Zoey probably shouldn't have been surprised at what emerged, but she was.

A curvaceous, translucent woman of green slime rose in height, forming from the liquid that poured out of the lake. She finished taking shape even as she advanced, confidently, hips swaying with sensual swagger as she strode forward. A sculpted, soft body fashioned from the see-through clay: navel, nipples, clavicle, the other enticing edges to a woman's body, naked and on full display. Her shape was nothing like Rosalie's: not hard muscles and deadly-looking, but gentle, round, with full breasts and skin (slime?) that looked painfully soft to the touch. A mane of thick slime simulated hair, swaying to beneath her butt, and bouncing with every confident step. Her breasts were generous, perfectly shaped, and she had perky, hard nipples a shade darker. Behind them, and down a bit, inside the slime-girl's lower chest, was a perfect sphere, fist-sized, of forest-green material, standing out against the neon translucence that made up the rest of her body. Zoey wasn't sure what it was; some part of her alien biology?

Her face was the most unnerving, upsetting for its dyssynchrony with the implied deadliness of the situation: it was warm, bubbly, smiling, exuberant, even, as if the slime-girl was delighted to have received a visitor. She looked at Zoey the way someone would for having their best friend unexpectedly show up after years overseas. Delighted. Like she was about to break into a run and scoop Zoey up in a hug.

Zoey shakily rose her mace up, then brought an ice spike to the forefront of her mind.

The slime-girl paused in her advance—she wasn't far, now, less than twenty feet.

"Aw," she pouted, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't tell me you want to play like she did."

Zoey reeled back.

She could talk?

The discovery changed everything. Or did it? Were talking bosses normal? She wasn't prepared for this. Assuming this was a non-standard situation, then a talking, sapient creature could be reasoned with. Maybe they didn't need to fight?

Or … Zoey's brain catching up with the slime-girl's words … maybe the way Rosalie had fought the creature had been all wrong.

"Like she did?" Zoey asked carefully.

"All that poking and slashing, it really hurts, you know! I don't like hurting people, but she made me. Because she didn't want to fight the fun way."

Zoey was forming a picture in her head of what had gone down in this clearing—and what the 'less fun' and 'more fun' types of fighting were.

She glanced Rosalie's way. Alive. Just hurt.

Back to the slime-girl.

"Well," Zoey said. "Any chance I can take her and go?"

"Without playing? That's such a mean request! Do you know how long it is between visitors?"

There'd been people before her and Rosalie? She guessed that made sense? Or was it just part of the slime-girl's … programming? That was a weird word to use. But how real were these 'shards', anyway? Did they persist outside of their adventure, or were they designed, the sapient creatures instated with default memories? Zoey didn't have time to be puzzling over stuff like this.

She lowered her mace, and let the ice-spike spell fizzle. Going even further, she tossed her weapon to the side and let it impact the soft grass as a sign of good faith. Zoey's way out of this predicament wasn't a fight—not a physical one, in the way Rosalie had supplied. Again, if Rosalie had lost, Zoey stood less chance than a gnat.

She'd have to win another way.

"Can I challenge you for her?" Zoey asked.

A smile split the slime-girl's face. "Depends what you mean by challenge," she sing-songed. She resumed her swaying forward, and Zoey didn't retreat, though instinct screamed for her to. "I'll have you know, I'm not an easy slime to satisfy."

The slime-girl's features resolved as she got closer, and Zoey could make out the finer details to her figure. The playful, gentle eyes, the soft, full lips, and the pouty curves between her legs, glistening with wetness—her chosen form was thorough, as expected for what 'challenges' she preferred to offer.

Zoey's length started to stiffen right as the slime-girl finished closing the gap between them.

Without sparing a moment, the slime-girl reached up and took Zoey's face in both her hands, then pressed her lips to Zoey's. She pried Zoey's mouth open and slipped her tongue in, causing Zoey to squeak in surprise. She closed her eyes and reciprocated, her hands going to the slime-girl's slim waist.

The slime-girl tasted sweet, and a bit citrusy—like a lime, though that might be her neon green color influencing Zoey's assumptions. Either way, it was far from unpleasant having her mouth explored by a probing, sticky tongue.

The slime-girl withdrew, their mouths separating in a pop. Zoey was breathing hard, and her lower-half was now fully at the ready, bent upward and pressing against a sticky body.

The slime-girl beamed up at her—Zoey was much taller—and her breathing had also picked up. "I knew you'd be more fun than her. And wow … you've got so much to offer. This is the best day ever." Her hand went to Zoey's member, stroking up and down, exploring its size. Her thumb rubbed into the base of where her head met the shaft, sliding over the bump and tracing the shape. Zoey's breath caught. The slime-girl kept their eyes locked, not looking down at what her hand was doing.

"Do you have a name?" Zoey asked. She wasn't sure why. Seeing how they were in for a presumably extended session of 'fighting', some basic conversation didn't seem out of order. Especially because she was curious about the creature's existence. Sure, they might be fighting over Zoey's claim of Rosalie, perhaps even their lives, but still.

Would this creature kill them if she failed? Zoey didn't get the feeling she would … but she had no clue what was going on.

The slime-girl laughed. "Wow. Such a gentleman. I think you're the first to ask. Mel. Short for Emerald-Melt." She leaned forward, still stroking up and down Zoey's length, and whispered, "But you can just call me your sticky, gooey plaything, because that's what I am." A noise of delight. "Ooh. It liked that, didn't it? It jumped in my hand."

"Feels like you're cheating," Zoey said, doing her best to ignore the slime-girl's caressing. "You're starting early. I still don't know how this's working. How do I 'win'?"

"Last one standing, dummy. Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"Not first to come?"

Mel paused, long up-and-down strokes stilling. Her expression was highly affronted. "You think I'm only getting one out of you?"

Ah. "So this could take a while."

"It better take a while." Her stroking resumed, faster than before. "And you're wasting time not getting to it. But before you do, let me show you something." She pushed Zoey, and, not having expected it, she stumbled backwards, falling on her ass. Not afraid to be a bit rough, then. It hadn't hurt, with the soft grass eating the impact, but she'd still been pushed over.

Mel sat on top of her thighs, leaving Zoey's cock erected into the air. She resumed stroking. "There's some amazing benefits to this body. Want to see one?"

"I'm a captive audience, aren't I?" Zoey murmured. How could she say no?

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

"So," Mel said. "The best part of my body. Wanna guess what it is?"

"Mmm. There's a lot to pick from."

Mel beamed, and slapped Zoey's shoulder. "Stop it, you flirt. Here. In my opinion, it's this." Mel's hand slid to the top of Zoey's cock, the base of her palm positioned flat against the tip. Zoey got the briefest inkling of what was about to happen, and then Mel pressed down.

Zoey's cock sank into the sticky substance, slowly filling up Mel's arm. She groaned in pleasure. The feeling was incredible: warm, tight, sticky, gripping to her cock as her length slid into Mel's body. Her arm. Zoey hadn't expected normal sex from a woman made from goo, but she hadn't expected this. To be fucking her hand, in the literal sense. Weird, but hot, she admitted to herself, watching her cock fill up Mel's arm, then Mel's fingers reach Zoey's pelvis, having gone all the way to the base. She curled her fingers inward, gripping Zoey's pubic hair. Definitely hot. Her cock reached all the way up to the woman's elbow. She could see it suspended in the green, translucent goo.

Her hand slid up, then back down, squeezing Zoey's cock with the motion.

This might be harder than I thought. Mel's insides felt really good, and they hadn't even gotten to the serious stuff. Zoey doubted those cute, anatomically-accurate lips between her legs wouldn't be getting use before this encounter was over. Really, they were Zoey's only chance to exhaust Mel before she herself ran out of steam. She was already at a disadvantage because of her cock. She knew from having experienced both types of pleasure that while her newest tool might feel great, it was much easier to keep going after coming the so-called natural way. Zoey was much more spent after orgasm than she used to be.

So she really ought to get to it.

But instead, she watched her cock slide up and down Mel's arm in fascination, and pleasure. Really fucking weird, she confirmed a second time, not that Zoey's pulsing girlcock was complaining in the slightest.

"You asked me my name," Mel said, "but I didn't get yours."

"Zoey," she breathed out. "Does that—does that trick work anywhere?"

Mel gave her a sly smile. "Why? Where do you want to stick it?"

"Just wondering." She could imagine a few ideas, and they were much weirder than through Mel's hand. But also slightly too degenerate for even Zoey to bring up, much less ask.

"In my ear?" Mel asked, apparently having no such shame "With this thing, it'd go all the way through my head, you naughty girl. And sorry, that's uncomfortable, so hands and feet are all you're getting."

"Right. Hand's are, um, enough."

"I know. I can feel it squirming inside. You really like it."

Her cock pulsed. "You have sensation in there?"

"Everywhere."

"Wow."

"Wow, indeed," Mel said, eyes sparkling.

Zoey let herself indulge for a few more moments, Mel's sticky insides pleasuring her length, before she admitted to herself she needed to treat this more seriously. She grabbed Mel's wrist and extracted her cock from the green goo—it made a lewd squelching sound as it separated—then pushed Mel over, who acquiesced with a delighted squeak. Zoey spread the slime-girl's legs open, then dipped her face between Mel's thighs.

"Can I taste you?"

"Don't ask," Mel said, wiggling her hips. "Just do. You've got your work cut out, remember? I would love if you win. I'm your number one supporter."

Zoey couldn't help the chuckle; this goo-girl really wanted some relief. Concern still ate at Zoey in the back of her head, but there was no point in worrying about what 'losing' meant.

She just had to win. Simple.

Just had to leave this curvy, sweet-tasting slime-girl a puddle of satisfied exhaustion. It might take some work, but Zoey was definitely, one-hundred percent up for the task.

Zoey ran a thumb up and down Mel's folds, watching them part and marveling at how realistic they were—and how cute. She was well and ready to go, her slick excitement covering Zoey's thumb.

She sunk both thumbs in and gently spread Mel apart, then looked in at the bumpy green walls. Since Mel's entire body was translucent, the edges were difficult to make out, even spread wide open, but she saw that Mel's anatomy was true to life.

"Hey," Mel protested. "I'm not exactly bashful, but staring in is really embarrassing. You said you were going to—"

Mel's words were cut off with a gasp as Zoey slipped her thumbs out, leaned forward, and sunk her tongue into her eager entrance.

"There you go," Mel sighed. Her hand went to Zoey's head and pushed down, getting her wiggling tongue another inch deeper. Zoey's hands went up to grip at Mel's spread-open thighs to better support herself and her efforts. She explored Mel's lower entrance, taking her time, caressing and squirming her tongue in sweet, coaxing motions, enjoying the honey-like, hint-of-citrus taste. Zoey loved the natural taste of a woman, of course, but Mel's insides were tasty by more literal standards. And she smelled amazing. With Zoey's nose stuffed into her pelvis (clean-shaven, for a silly sense of the phrase), Mel's scent radiated into her, intoxicating with its fruitiness.

"A-Ah," Mel whined. "You're better at this, mmm, than I thought. Maybe I shouldn't be so cocky."

Zoey didn't reply. Her mouth was a bit occupied.

"First one's free, I guess," Mel sighed, gripping Zoey's hair tighter, and the wiggling in her hips starting to pick up speed. "Puts us on even playing ground."

Zoey worked away diligently. Nobody ever said it was easy conquering a dungeon.

Finally, Mel's breathing grew ragged, and Zoey could tell by the way her stomach was starting to twitch that Mel was getting close. She'd take her 'free one' happily. Zoey didn't know how many times she'd have to make Mel come before she'd be collapsed from exhaustion, but based on some of Zoey's longer sessions? Could be a half a dozen or more. And that had been for a regular girl.

Zoey coaxed the shaking slime-girl through a body-wracking orgasm. Her back arched, her thighs squeezed around Zoey's head, and she shoved Zoey's head in, cutting off her ability to breathe with her nose stuffed deep into her pelvis, but Zoey didn't stop until Mel's squeezing thighs loosened and she patted on Zoey's head to let go. She pulled back, sucking in air, and a bit dizzy.

Her cock was aching from need, the experience of having her head crushed between Mel's thighs as she came having gotten her painfully hard. Precum dripped from its tip, and it twitched in anticipation.

Fortunately—unfortunately?—Mel's first orgasm seemed to have not tired her out remotely, but instead riled her up. She pushed Zoey over (they were taking turns doing that) and climbed atop her. Mel's gooey lower parts rubbed against Zoey's cock, excruciatingly satisfying. She leaned forward and kissed Zoey while sliding back and forth, the slimey composition of her body and the excessive lubricant dripping from her orgasm providing a slick, easy movement. Zoey bucked into her, helping her along, and savoring the sweet taste of Mel's mouth—and in sharing the juice that had gushed from her convulsing pussy.

She pulled back just enough to break from the kiss and murmured happily, "You taste so good."

"That's mostly you," Zoey laughed. Her hands had gone to Mel's waist, helping with the rhythm and motion of rubbing her lower-half against Zoey's cock. The first hints of something was starting to build, and Zoey rallied her determination—she couldn't allow herself to be pleasured without doing the same in return. "Lift yourself up."

"Is it time?"

"Up."

With the length of Zoey's cock, Mel had to lift a comical, awkward distance to position Zoey's tip at her entrance.

I'm about to be inside her. To feel her walls squeeze around me. While Zoey had had something close in the form of Rosalie's throat, and she supposed Mel's hand, this would be the first time she actually penetrated a woman with her new equipment. Zoey's heart started racing harder, and it had already been galloping.

Mel rubbed Zoey's tip playfully against her entrance, spreading her lips with its head. It rubbed Zoey's precum into her own excitement, creating a slick, lewd mess. "Are you ready?" Mel asked breathlessly. "Gods, it's going to go so deep."

"Hurry up." Zoey wanted to thrust inside, but she knew her size was unwieldy, so Mel needed to ease herself into it, even accounting for her malleable body.

Mel finally started to press down, and Zoey's cock slipped—for the first time—into the warm, soft heat of where it belonged: Mel's breeding hole. A groan escaped her lips as Mel's grippy, tight pussy spread open to accommodate her.

"S-So big."

Mel eased down, gripping Zoey's shaft with a hand to guide its entrance. Zoey's head fell back into the grass, eyes closed, savoring the squeeze of Mel's walls pressing in all around her. And she kept going lower, enveloping more of Zoey, amplifying the sensation with every second as more and more of her cock was pressed in by tight, wet goo-flesh.

"So full, o-only half way. How is it so big? You're stretching me …"

Zoey drowned in bliss as her cock slid inch by inch into Mel's pussy, until finally, Mel's soft ass impacted her crotch, indicating she'd finished—that she'd gotten every last bit in. That Zoey had stuffed her full, stretching Mel out to her absolute maximum.

Zoey opened her eyes and basked in the sight of her cock suspended in translucent green slime, past Mel's navel, all the way up to the base of her breasts. It reached to just beneath that slightly darker, floating green orb Zoey had noted earlier. If Zoey thrusted, just hard enough, she might be able to bump her cock into it. Though she wasn't sure why she would. Maybe it was —

Zoey's thought was cut off as Mel lifted herself, then bounced back down. Her slime impacted Zoey's thighs with a squelch, and the combined pressure of her coaxing inner walls and the bounce of her ass against Zoey was incredible, impossible to describe. She moaned, and lost control of her attempts to be considerate; she needed to thrust and shove, and who cared if she was too big for Mel? Zoey needed to go faster. Mel was taking things too slow.

She gripped Mel's waist, hard, then bucked underneath her, slamming into Mel rather than the other way around. Mel gasped in surprise, and Zoey didn't let up. She pistoned in and out, hips jerking in rhythm with Zoey's hands slamming Mel down by her waist, to provide a louder, lewder impact between their lower halves. Each collision squelched as Mel's gooey body tried to stick to Zoey's crotch. Mel worked with her, caught off guard, and whining in something that sounded close to pain, but enthusiastic despite the fact, allowing her body to be used however Zoey wanted. She hadn't been kidding; she was Zoey's sticky plaything. Zoey didn't need to ask. Mel was hers to do with what she wanted.

Zoey's thoughts became less coherent as her brain started to melt in pleasure. Her pistoning increased in speed.

"Give it to me," Mel begged, bouncing up and down. "Please. I want to feel it shoot inside. Do that for me."

She let the burning satisfaction of her cock crescendo, indulging entirely in the feeling, any thoughts of delaying gratification for purpose of lasting longer disappearing. She needed to empty herself into this busty, eager slime-girl. To fill her with hot seed. Could a slime-girl be bred? If so, Zoey was about to accomplish it.

Her length spasmed, finally giving in to Mel's desperate, excited coaxings. Zoey's girlcum jettisoned out into clinging slime-girl pussy. Zoey kept her eyes open and watched, through Mel's translucent body, as strings of white shot out from her cock and into her—past her cervix, which Zoey had been bumping into, and the force of her convulsing cock pushing seed into her womb, filling up the space with gooey white liquid in real-time as Zoey watched in awe. The sight spurred her twitching cock on, encouraging it to give more and more as it pounded up and down, she and Mel not slowing as Zoey's cock gave in.

Mel's womb filled, then overflowed, seed spilling down Zoey's cock and stuffing her walls, obscuring Zoey's cock from view in a wash of white. She watched as it poured from Mel's pussy and out between them. And, like usual, Zoey just kept going, kept spasming, her output unusually high. She had Ephy to thank for that—which she briefly did. She sent off a prayer, imagining a smirking goddess looking down at her.

Mel's second orgasm crashed into her, shaking her slimy body, and bringing Zoey's pleasure to a new high as her walls convulsed and milked Zoey with shocking pressure, caressing with tight squeezes.

Finally, Zoey was spent—and dizzy—but she forced herself not to give in to her exhaustion. She collapsed back, stopping her pumping, but not allowing herself to close her eyes and sag into the ground.

"Do I at least get a second to catch my breath?" she panted.

Mel leaned back and shimmied down Zoey's legs, her member sliding from her pussy, and spilling out seed as the stopper finally exited. Zoey could still see her white spunk outlining the entirety of her pleasure-giving insides: womb and vagina both. It was a bit weird, like a lot of this had been. But a lot hotter than weird. Or maybe hotter because it was weird.

"I didn't get a break, did I?" Mel laughed. "You have fingers and a mouth, until it's working again. And a pretty blonde to save, if you're forgetting. So get to it."

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

After Zoey's third orgasm, and Mel's eighth, she was starting to lose hope.

Zoey had expected the slime-girl would be long-lasting, on account of her being a magical dungeon's final boss, and by matter of her wanting to fight through the proxy of fucking. But eight times? And they hadn't been gentle climaxes. Her whole body had been a shaking, twitching mess each time, turning the slime-girl's brain to mush as she whined and spat obscenities and lewd nonsense, but still, she kept going—kept wanting more.

The good news was that Zoey's efforts were having an effect. The dark-green orb inside Mel's chest had started to affect an orange tint, approaching red. Zoey used her not-very-comprehensive understanding of video games to guess the orb somehow related to her status, or her 'healthiness', for a perversion of the word. She was being worn out. And that could be seen physically, too, by the way Mel's control of her body had lost some of its finesse. Every slapping thrust of Zoey's cock into her insides left sticky green residue, now, no longer just clinging, but actually separating from her body. She was melting from pleasure—literally.

Which had meant things had gotten quite messy in the past twenty minutes. Zoey was covered in green slime—Mel's green slime—though her body hadn't actually changed much; it was the same gorgeous collection of curves, and provided the same tight interior coaxing for Zoey's girlcock. She had, however, grown the tiniest bit smaller—her misplacing of her goo shrinking her height by maybe an inch.

There was another piece of good news, despite Zoey's fatigue, and the way her stamina flagged. Zoey had a plan. She'd formed it while curling out Mel's eighth orgasm with her fingers and tongue. The orb, deep inside Mel's body: Zoey thought she could reach it, now that Mel's body had more give—and by the fact it seemed to have shrunken the smallest amount.

Zoey finished riding Mel down, then rolled her over onto her back. She shuffled between her legs, gripping her cock and lining it up to her entrance.

"R-Really ought to pace yourself," Mel teased. "Going inside again? Already? I know you like my insides, but you're going to lose."

Zoey was already close to losing, so she needed to go for a hail-mary. She grunted instead of responding, not having the energy to respond to Mel's playful teasing anymore. She pouted at that, but gasped when Zoey's cock split her lower lips open, and she pressed in.

Just because she and Mel had been going at it for a while didn't mean she'd grown immune to the slime-girl's tight walls, but Zoey reined her reactions in and forced herself to focus. She paid attention to how deep her cock reached—Zoey's generous loads of girlcum from her previous orgasms had slowly absorbed into Mel's slime, then disappeared—when she was buried all the way in. Where there'd been two inches or so until the orb, now there was only one. If Zoey slammed hard enough, it should bump.

And who knew if that would do anything, but it was her best shot.

"Help me," Zoey said gruffly. "Push hard."

Mel laughed delightedly. "Yes ma'am." She dug her hands into the soft earth to either side of her, getting a grip for helping push against Zoey. She hadn't an idea what Zoey was going for, Zoey assumed.

Zoey pulled back, savoring the hot, sticky slide of the slime-girl's pussy despite the importance of her goal, then, mustering all her strength, slammed in as hard as she could. Mel, ever the accommodator, did as Zoey asked—she pushed as hard as she could, too, jerking her lower body into Zoey.

Zoey's cock slid through Mel's body, and with the force of her impact, her lower half slapped into Mel's and managed to embed half an inch into her gooey substance. Zoey craned her hips forward, too, really getting as far as she could.

The tip of her cock bumped a hard object.

The reaction was almost shocking. Mel cried out, her pussy clamping down like a vice, and her entire body spasming. For almost ten second she shook, writhing around on the ground, before finally releasing, and panting. Zoey couldn't help but be concerned—it looked like it had been legitimately painful, which wasn't her goal. Or, had it been?

"Oh my gods," Mel panted out. "You h-hit my core. I can't believe you can reach that far." Something wild appeared in her eyes. "Do it again. It hurt so much."

Huh.

So it had been painful, but Mel had liked it anyway.

Zoey pulled back, Mel braced against the dirt, and they worked together to slam Zoey's cock back into her 'core', which, Zoey guessed, was what the orb of translucent glass was called.

Mel contracted and spasmed, her ninth orgasm ravaging her body, despite that they'd just started—that it had only taken two thrusts. Zoey almost sagged in relief, because it looked like she'd found the advantage she needed. The problem was, Mel's seizure-like spasms were really doing something to milk Zoey's cock, and while she hadn't fallen apart in two thrusts like Mel, she was also closer to giving out than the slime-girl. She couldn't afford to keep exhausting herself.

The ninth, tenth, and eleventh climaxes were easy enough to draw from Mel. On the twelfth, Zoey emptied herself into Mel's cute insides, and collapsed forward, panting into the sticky girl's shapely breasts. Still smelled sweet and citrusy. Wasn't quite as comforting, anymore.

"Aw, c'mon," Mel complained. "Just a few more. I think you'll actually have me."

She wasn't lying; the core had dipped further into red, a similar neon to Mel's green slime. Zoey clawed her way to a fourth wind, got back up, and continued pounding into slimy, clenching pussy.

Fourteen did the trick.

Mel lay in a gooey puddle, her body barely able to keep formed. She murmured happy nonsense to herself, eyes closed, and the previous forest-green core in her lower-chest now a bright, neon red, with cracks running through it.

Zoey wanted so desperately to fall back into the grass and pass out, but she had shit to do. She staggered to her feet, swaying and almost falling over.

"Sure you don't want some more?" Mel babbled happily to her as she passed. "You can still use me. I just can't move."

No, thank you. The first half had been amazing, but the second half, not so much. Zoey enjoyed a good fucking, but that had been, uh, stressful. Usually her life—and her friend's life—wasn't on the line.

With Mel's defeat, the pile of slime holding Rosalie in place had melted, leaving the blonde girl unconscious and collapsed-over. Her spear, the one she had taken from the armory, lay a half-dozen feet to her side. Zoey knelt down and rolled her onto her back.

This was the first time she'd been able to see Rosalie up close. She wasn't in great shape. Rosalie had chosen to face Mel in the more traditional arena of battle, and had taken damage appropriate to that. Since Zoey had had a delightful opportunity to explore Rosalie's body, she could tell what cuts, bruises, and other injuries had been recent. The odd part was that most looked well into the process of healing. The cuts were scabbed over and already fading. Rosalie's runes? A healing aspect of the slime? Something else? Either way, Rosalie was breathing, and while beaten-up, on her way to recovery.

Zoey's anger spiked at the fact Mel had hurt Rosalie. Oddly, it reminded her of that first interaction with Ephy—when Zoey had been offered the class 'Charmer', which influenced the minds of people. Ephy had said, 'don't mistake me something for I'm not'. Zoey got the feeling that was what she had done with Mel. She was enthusiastic, playful, and great at making Zoey feel good, but that didn't mean she hadn't been willing to fight—and hurt—Rosalie. To fight and hurt her, too.

Though was that perspective justified? Rosalie had been the one to come fight Mel, not the other way around. Could Mel have let them pass without a fight? Was it coded into her genetics to defend the shard's exit? It might be a more complicated issue than first appraised, but Zoey didn't want to think about that. All she saw was Rosalie, laying unconscious and still healing, and felt furious.

She shook Rosalie by the shoulders gently, trying to rouse her.

"Hey. Daylight's burning. Up and at 'em, princess."

Rosalie stirred, and a few pats to the cheek had her blinking up at Zoey. A smile split Zoey's face, mostly relief.

"Zoey?" Rosalie asked groggily. She leaned up, a hand going to her forehead as she groaned. "I feel awful. What …" she looked around, eyes landing on Mel. "... happened?"

"It's taken care of, don't worry," Zoey said. "But we should get going. I don't know if she'll heal."

"You … defeated her?" Rosalie sounded utterly baffled. Which, from her perspective, might be fair—she likely assumed Zoey had won in combat. "Why are you covered in so much slime?"

Because I just got done fucking a melting slime girl until my limbs were, ironically, jello.

"It's a long story. Can you stand?"

"Of course I can stand." Rosalie shakily got to her feet, then swayed—and would have fallen, if Zoey didn't reach out and steady her. "Stop being ridiculous," Rosalie protested, "I can stand without help."

Managing this girl's pride was going to take effort in the coming weeks, Zoey could tell. Her best option was to ignore the protest and move to practical matters, to distract her from how she was helping. "How do we get out of here?"

Rosalie spared another glance at the collapsed slime girl, then said, "Probably through the clearing. But I want to go look at her." She didn't push Zoey away, and leaned against her for support.

"Why?"

"Because I want to," she said flatly.

Zoey sighed and didn't contradict her. She helped Rosalie over the first few steps, but soon enough, her arms were swatted away, and with more strength than before—she seemed to have regained her steadiness. So Zoey let go. Rosalie finished striding over to the slime girl by herself.

She looked down and studied her, and Zoey realized why this might have been a bad idea.

"What's all the—?"

Rosalie paused.

"You did not," Rosalie said.

Sticky white strands floated around in Mel's lower body, not yet absorbed.

"She did," Mel mumbled happily. "It was so amazing."

Rosalie jumped. "She's still alive!"

"I hardly killed her," Zoey said, mildly affronted.

"Kinda wish you did," Mel whined. "Dying feels so good."

Zoey stared in disbelief at the slime-girl. Getting killed felt good? She guessed Mel respawned, and had experienced it before? But still … what the hell.

So weird.

Not that she was kink-shaming, she guessed? If a girl got off on dying, um, good for her??

"Why—Why—" Rosalie seemed to be confronting the fact Zoey had fucked Mel into submission, rather than fought her.

"Offered to you, too," Mel mumbled. "But you wanted a boring fight."

"Offered to me? No, you didn't. What?"

Zoey paused. Knowing Rosalie, it was quite possible Mel's offers of 'fighting another way' had gone completely over her head, and Mel had taken that for rejection.

"Hey, Mel," Zoey said. "How do we get out of here?"

"You know her name?"

"Out the opposite end of the clearing," Mel mumbled. Her eyes were still closed. She was in seriously bad shape … however happy she seemed to be about affairs. "But there's a secret loot room beneath the lake. Should raid it. As thanks for … the amazing time."

"You are disgusting," Rosalie said to Zoey. "You fucked the boss into submission?"

"Could've been you," Mel said.

"Quiet, you—you perverted creature! As if I would—" she cut off, then spun to Zoey. Her cheeks were flushed. "Let's keep it moving. The loot room. Do we swim down?"

"Make sure you hold your breath."

Rosalie shot another glare at Mel.

"Thanks, Mel," Zoey said. "You'll be fine, right?"

"More'n fine …" she sighed contentedly.

Rosalie stalked away, toward the slime-lake.

Zoey jogged to catch up. "Hey. You're not mad, are you?"

"Mad? Why in the world would I be mad?" The incredulity on Rosalie's face seemed genuine.

Zoey had misread the situation. "Never mind."

"You think I'm upset you fucked another girl? Even if we were a thing, why would I be? And we're not, by the way."

She guessed Rosalie's culture was a bit more open about multiple partners than hers. Polyamory hadn't been especially popular back home, not that Zoey had ever had a problem with it. "Right. Again, my bad."

Rosalie opened her mouth as if to say more—and by the look on her face, it wouldn't have been nice—but then she huffed, and spun back forward. "We're dawdling. Loot, then exiting the shard. I'm ready to be out of this disgusting place."

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

Swimming down through the lake of slime was uncomfortable, but all things considered, not especially difficult. Exhausted as Zoey was from her thorough 'fight' with Mel, her arms and legs ached as she struggled her way through the surprisingly loose liquid—not nearly as clinging as it appeared. She even sank with ease, not floating, and spurred on by her long strokes, quickly descended.

She reached the bottom and hit air—then tumbled eight feet and toppled, landing on her back in a pile of spongy green gelatin. She sank in and bounced a few feet from the impact, arms cartwheeling, then bounced again, before she managed to steady.

"Are you intending to make a fool of yourself, or is it coming naturally?"

Rosalie, ever the dexterous acrobat, must have landed gracefully, giving her a perfect view of Zoey's flailing.

"Let's say intended," Zoey said. "That makes me look better, right?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes, then advanced toward one of the two things of import in the slimy green cavern: three chests, two with bands of emerald wrapped around their center, and one with a band of sapphire. Zoey blinked in surprise. All three chests were of higher rarity than the one they'd previously raided, and by how Rosalie had described things, the blue-band—sapphire, representing 'superior'—was the second best quality a person could find, and was supposed to be exceedingly rare.

"Wow," Zoey said. "That's a nice haul, huh?"

"Depends," Rosalie said. "But not as good as it seems, I suspect. I have my suspicions what's in the sapphire chest." Without ceremony—these things didn't have quite the novelty for Rosalie as they did as for Zoey, and so she had no reason to take her time—Rosalie flung open the centermost chest.

She pulled out a seven-foot gleaming spear.

"Mmm," Rosalie said. "Good. My inventory." She reached in, and the next item out was a pair of metal boots. Rosalie nodded along in satisfaction as she continued to empty the chest.

So that one didn't count as 'real' loot, then. The superior-rated chest was a fluke, simply Rosalie's inventory handed back to her. Zoey looked at the two green-banded chests. "Still, two rares is pretty good, right?"

"For the nightmare of this shard? Hardly." Then, reluctantly, "But objectively, yes, for how it was relatively small, as far as shards go. Assuming we don't get exceedingly unlucky with the yield. Always a possibility."

Zoey didn't think the shard had been that bad. She'd had some, uh, good times. Funny enough, the few parts Zoey hadn't especially liked—the monsters and patches of brutal fighting—were probably the parts Rosalie considered tolerable.

The next item Rosalie pulled from the inventory-chest broke Zoey's heart.

"Thank the gods," Rosalie said as she slipped on her undergarments. "I half expected these not to be in there."

"If only they hadn't," Zoey sighed. Her days of ogling Rosalie's naked body were over. Was there any greater tragedy?

Rosalie shot an annoyed squint at Zoey's dramatics. "Some of us don't like parading about with our privates on display." She tossed Zoey a towel, one of the many items Rosalie continued to pull out and deposit into that private pocket-space between worlds. "Clean yourself up."

Zoey did so, using the fabric to wipe the copious amounts of green slime from her body, and the other mixture of less-appropriate liquids spread across her lower half.

She supposed getting dressed was necessary. They couldn't continue their nudism in civilization, obviously. Zoey was a bit surprised at how accustomed she had become to the feeling of being naked around Rosalie. Even at the start, she'd been less bashful about it than she'd have thought. Their first meeting—the tight coffin—had been quite the icebreaker.

"I'd offer you some of my clothes, but they won't fit," Rosalie said. "You're too tall. And busty. And …" she cleared her throat. "I don't think women's garments are something that fit you, down low. But I have a pair of men's britches and underwear, somewhere in here."

Right. Zoey couldn't exactly go around wearing tight pants and women's underwear anymore, not unless she wanted some awkward things on plain display. She'd have to wear loose pants and boxers, and even then, there'd probably be a bulge, considering how much heat Zoey was packing. She paused, coming to terms with the reality of her situation. For having gotten extensive use out of her cock in the past half-day, there was still a lot of accustoming to do.

Life as a girl with a fourteen-inch cock. Sure to pose some difficulties—or at least strangeness—in civilized society.

Finally finding the items she was looking for, Rosalie tossed her some plain, hardy-looking clothes. Zoey shrugged on the long-sleeve shirt, a pair of men's undergarments that she guessed qualified as this world's equivalent of 'boxer-briefs', then the brown traveling leathers. They fit poorly, to say the least. The shirt was far too loose, meant for someone much broader than her; the underwear too tight, both from excessive equipment and wide hips; and finally, the pants, which were the closest to being acceptable, but still too baggy for her liking. At least it hid Zoey's secret. While she wasn't hard, at least. She doubted much on the planet could hide it when she got excited.

Not having a bra wasn't ideal, but Rosalie didn't have something that fit her. Zoey supposed she should be grateful this world even had them. Hadn't they used, like, corsets and other types of chest bindings, before? Zoey wasn't great with her history. Either way, by the modest white support Rosalie had put on, Zoey could tell their worlds' clothing standards were in a similar place; she just didn't have something that fit Zoey's chest.

"Why do you have men's clothing, anyway?"

"To be prepared," Rosalie said. "Anything reasonable that I might need, I try to have."

"And why would you need men's clothing?"

"For if a party member needs it?" She raised an eyebrow. "Like now."

Zoey guessed it was fair enough reasoning. "Thanks."

Rosalie snorted. "Please. You're doing me a favor by covering up. So no, thank you."

Zoey refrained from pointing out that Rosalie's fondness of her 'extra equipment' had been quite apparent in their adventures, and not just that, but Zoey's body in general. Would it kill the blonde girl to be honest with herself?

Rosalie tossed her a pair of boots. "Store those for if you need them. They're too big, but depending where we end up in the Fractures, big might be better than barefoot."

Zoey pocketed the boots as instructed. "Sheesh. You're still going." She had been pulling items out in a constant stream, and had yet to slow. "How much can you put in an inventory, anyway?"

"Depends on your advancement. You, less than me. But still quite a lot."

"Convenient."

"I suppose?" Rosalie gave her an odd look.

Zoey tried to put herself in Rosalie's shoes. Inventory was, presumably, something all people in this world had access to. Calling it convenient might be similar to making a casual comment about how 'convenient' thumbs and brains were. Not incorrect … but a strange, perhaps even revealing, thought to muse about.

Then, absurdly, her mind bounced to the implications an ability like an 'inventory' must have on the world. It'd be impossible to enforce security standards, like 'no weapons' in certain places. Also, depending on how significant the storage capabilities were, it could affect how trade worked … as in, a person could load up with boxes of material and set off without need for a wagon, or mules, or such.

Or, say, theft. Could a person walk into a store and drop items into their inventory, then waltz off? How would anyone know? Did people have to be followed around in shops to prevent that? Were 'shopping-procedures' wholly modified from what Zoey knew back on Earth? Or some stranger solution that Zoey hadn't considered, or couldn't, like a spell that prevented the use of inventory-deposit? Maybe it could be detected somehow.

Zoey shook her head. She might ask Rosalie later—or find the answer naturally. There were a million and one questions she could pour out on how an alien world functioned, but she both didn't want to reveal to Rosalie her (what she would see as) odd thought processes, and she didn't want to waste time, since it would take all night to cover even a fraction of her questions.

Take things as they come. A good motto by Earth standards, and doubly applicable here.

Rosalie started pulling out clinking bags of coins, which gave Zoey pause. She counted five before they stopped.

"So you're loaded, or something?"

"Hardly. Those were mostly copper and silver. The earnings of a second-advancement Wayfarer is by no means lucrative."

Copper, silver, and presumably gold coins. Maybe higher denominations, too? Finances were going to be another curious thing to learn about. Sounded like it was straightforward, at least. Coins. Couldn't complicate those too much.

"You can start laying out the loot from the other chests," Rosalie said. "You don't need to stand there and watch me."

"Just figured you'd want to be the one." Rosalie had taken over the process of looting the last chest they'd found; Zoey hadn't pulled out any of the items. Rosalie did that—took charge, naturally, part of who she was. Zoey didn't mind. She wasn't a pushover, but she'd never felt the need to take command. Could do it, sure. Just preferred to only when no one else would.

"For the excitement of the reveal?" Rosalie scoffed. "Who do you take me for? Some green, first-generation Wayfarer? Only wet-eared novices care about something like that."

Zoey paused. "I think it's fun," she said defensively.

"Point in case."

Sometimes Rosalie's arrogance peeked through with more obviousness than others. Zoey still saw the goodness in her—it was blindingly plain to see—but she had her flaws, without a doubt. "There's nothing wrong with taking enjoyment in the small things."

Rosalie snorted, again. She didn't look over Zoey's way.

Zoey bit her tongue on pushing the point, because she knew when to pick her battles.

"Just lay them out," Rosalie said. "We'll divvy it up."

"I'm getting a cut, this time?" Rosalie had pocketed most of the loot from the first chest, which Zoey had thought entirely fair; Zoey had done exceedingly little to earn any of it.

Rosalie stilled. Her mood soured visibly, even with her back turned as she paused half-up from extracting an item from the chest. "If anything," she said bitterly, "you should be getting the lion's share. I might have died without you."

Ah, Zoey realized. That's why.

That was the reason Rosalie had been upset, before diving into the slime lake—which Zoey had misinterpreted as anger at Zoey's involvement with Mel. She was furious at herself for losing. For needing to be saved by Zoey. Now that she'd made the connection, it was pretty obvious. That was one-hundred-percent something Rosalie would be sour over.

"I don't care either way," Zoey said. "Fifty-fifty, you take it all, whatever. What's mine is yours. We're sticking together, aren't we?"

Rosalie stilled a second time. Then resumed. "I suppose we are. You'll need someone to show you the ropes."

Like usual, no effusive confirmations, no exclamations of camaraderieship and anticipation of future escapades, but it was Rosalie. Of course not. Zoey grinned. Earlier, there'd been hesitation on whether they'd be forming a party. Rosalie had made up her mind: yes.

Zoey didn't make a big deal out of it, because Rosalie would definitely launch some biting comments her way for doing so. Instead she walked over to the rightmost of the chests and cracked it open, smiling stupidly.

An inky black void welcomed her. Zoey reached in, half expecting it to be cold to the touch, or some indescribable feeling, but instead, it just felt like—well, nothing. More air. Her fingers groped for the bottom of the chest, and grazed something. She adjusted, then gripped the jar of something, pulling it out.

[Cleansing Liquid: Common. To aid a person in adventures down less-beaten paths. Cleans thoroughly and leaves a fruity aftertaste.

Zoey paused, then burst out laughing.

"Let me guess," Rosalie said dryly. "Something perverted?"

"It's playing coy, but I think so. It's, uh. Cleaning agent."

"Cleaning agent?"

"For, you know. A squeaky clean back door. Leaves a fruity aftertaste."

Rosalie parsed the explanation, brow furrowed—her innocence the more amusing part of the whole thing, which Zoey had to fight down another laugh from. Her expression cleared up, and her lips twisted in disgust. "The degeneracy of this shard knows no bounds."

"Do you just pour it in?" Zoey asked, turning the bottle of dark-red plastic-like material around. There was no label. The liquid sloshed around, viscous as water. It tapered at the top to a cap that looked like it could be twisted open. Using some basic intuition, Zoey assumed she would need to shove it 'up there' then squeeze, and it would do its magical work. Honestly, it was kind of amazing. Getting ready for spelunking expeditions of that sort could be an ordeal … not that Zoey had ever been that into backdoor-play. She'd had one girlfriend who was, though, so she knew her way around.

"Because I would know?" Rosalie asked. "Ugh. Stop talking about it."

Zoey chuckled, then set the item aside, rather than putting it in her inventory—the loot would need to be divided up.

The next item out was tiny, and took some groping around in the void to find.

[Silvercut Tongue Stud: Uncommon. Ministrations of the mouth find greater potency.

"I call this one," Zoey said. "I so call this one."

Rosalie glanced over. "What is it?"

"Magical tongue piercing that makes me give better head. So don't worry, it'll help you out, too."

"Help me!" Rosalie flushed. "As if I would let you—let you put your—" She cleared her throat, then pointedly returned to her own chest. "You and this shard are well suited for each other. Perhaps you shouldn't leave, and instead spend your remaining days here."

Now there was a thought. With a host like Mel, would she really have that much to complain about?

As for Rosalie's claim that Zoey wouldn't be getting her tongue inside her … well, they'd see about that. For all Rosalie's protests, they had only known each other a day, and yet Zoey had had her cock rubbed against her stomach, in her mouth, and between her tits. There were some extenuating circumstances allowing that fast intimacy, but the floodgates had been opened, so to say—and Rosalie clearly enjoyed having them been so.

Zoey pocketed the stud into her inventory, not setting it aside to divvy it up. Because she was getting it put in at the first opportunity. She was excited to see how well it worked. What kind of embarrassing things would she force out of Rosalie, aided with supernatural competency?

Speaking of, though, how did piercings work in this world? With stuff like healing potions, could she just suck it up, stab the metal through, then drink a potion? It'd be a painful ordeal, obviously, but Zoey had never been too squeamish, or sensitive to pain. For not having to go through a whole 'process', it'd be worth it.

She'd never had a tongue piercing, but part of the reason was because she'd heard it was a hassle, both to get and maintain. Magical healing to accelerate things—and the benefits this particular jewelry offered—had tipped the scales to 'definitely worth it'.

She pulled out the next item. Still plenty to work through.

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

[Alabaster Gloves of Focus: Uncommon. Aids the neophyte spellcaster in quicker, more coherent casting of spells.

"Finally," Rosalie said. "Functional equipment. And something perfectly suited for you."

Zoey frowned down at the tiny gloves in her hands. "They won't fit." Maybe Zoey's old body could have crammed the small piece of clothing on, but Zoey'd grown by a non-insignificant amount; she was much taller than the average girl, now, and her hands were of course proportionally similar.

(The extra length on her fingers was quite appreciated. As Rosalie had found out.)

"Nonsense," Rosalie said. "Unbound equipment resizes itself to the wearer. Go ahead. I doubt we'll be selling them. Better to use what the shard gives—cheaper."

Zoey wiggled her fingers into the soft fabric, believing Rosalie's words but still slightly doubtful. Incredibly, as Zoey's hand stuffed inside, the cloth expanded, wrapping around in a perfect fit. The other behaved similarly as she tugged it on.

[Alabaster Gloves of Focus: Uncommon. Bound. Aids the neophyte spellcaster in quicker, more coherent casting of spells.

"What does 'bound' mean? Or, uh, entail?"

"That it belongs to you," Rosalie said. "That it can't be inspected without your permission, nor can others wear it and gain its benefit. Thus, that it's virtually worthless to sell."

"Is there a way to unbind?"

"Yes, but for a first advancement piece of equipment, doing so would be ludicrous."

"It's expensive?"

"Exceptionally."

"Huh." Zoey had a lot to learn about how the adventuring world worked. She turned her hands back and forth, admiring the bright white fabric and intricate designs. "Doesn't really fit with my other clothes."

Rosalie shrugged. "Congratulations. That marks you as a Wayfarer."

"Hodgepodge aesthetics?"

"A coherent outfit usually means one sacrificed practicality for 'looking good'." Rosalie's lip pulled back in disdain as she sneered the words. "With some exceptions, of course, but an unfortunate amount of Wayfarers are concerned with appearances over wearing the most effective pieces for a given situation."

"Exceptions being?"

"Large enough shards—or repeated visits to them—can produce a full set of equipment that looks as if they were designed to be worn together. It's more common at higher advancements than lower."

"Huh."

"Keep it moving, will you?"

Zoey had stopped her diligent extraction of loot to talk with Rosalie. The blonde girl clearly wanted to get things over with. Her desire to be out of this shard was genuine; she was visibly impatient.

[Quartz-Encrusted Tiara: An adornment lined with thick gemstones of quartz.

"It doesn't say what it does," Zoey said, brow furrowing. "Not even that it has 'unidentified effect sigils'." It was normal for the Inspect ability to not give a detailed accounting of what items did, but usually there was at least an allusion.

"Could mean it does nothing," Rosalie said, "but more likely, we'll need to take it to an artificer to have it identified. Some items are more explicit about what they do than others. Loot descriptions follow no particular pattern. Set it aside."

Zoey did so, then moved on.

[Shaft Ring of Binding: Rare. For when crescendos need to be delayed, or prevented. Can only be deactivated by the activator.

A cock ring.

Like usual, the perverted nature of the item brought a quirk to Zoey's lips. The whole situation was a bit funny, however much Rosalie protested. Because magical sex items as a reward for fucking a slime-girl into gooey submission? Well, strangeness was often a catalyst for humor, and here, for Zoey, it definitely was.

"That one's mine," Rosalie said, making Zoey start blinking.

"What?"

She held a hand out impatiently. "You took the tongue stud. This one's mine."

"Why?"

"Because you make a mess, and should I want to not deal with that, this item means I get to choose when."

"That, uh." Zoey foresaw some tortuous moments in the future, if Rosalie had absolute control over when she got to come. "That's, okay, just, don't be mean?" She handed it over.

"Mmm," Rosalie said, turning the item over in inspection, then vanishing it. "We'll see."

The ominous statement only mildly made up for the fact that Rosalie's claiming of the item implied they'd be seeing more intimate encounters in the future. Zoey wondered if Rosalie realized she'd implied that—Zoey would have figured her more embarrassed about doing so.

Or, by the growing pink on her cheeks, maybe she just had.

Zoey laughed, Rosalie scowled at her, and Zoey continued on.

The next item:

[Blossom Blight: Red flower petals which serve as the primary catalyst for brewing potions that inhibit or amplify the potency of life-giving seed.

Zoey blinked down at the pouch of alchemy reagents. "Wow," she said. "Like, makes you knock someone up?"

"What?" Rosalie stuttered. "What does it say?"

Right—Rosalie couldn't see the description of the item in the same way Zoey could, since Zoey had a rune of alchemy and a skill that helped in the identification of reagents. She relayed the description to Rosalie, who shook her head in disgust—something she'd done a lot, in the past ten minutes.

"Or inhibits," Zoey said. "That's actually kind of useful. Means it'll stop me from getting a girl pregnant. If that's, uh, something I can do in the first place."

"You don't know?"

They hadn't talked about Zoey's addition between her legs, not in any depth. The only time Rosalie had brought it up was that off-hand comment during the aphrodisiac debacle. "I don't, yeah. Honestly, I could see it going either way."

Rosalie hesitated, as if she wanted to ask more, but apparently thought the topic too personal to pursue. Zoey wouldn't have minded talking about it, but she didn't know what answers to give. She was still keeping secrets from Rosalie—the nature of her transmigration, and how her memories weren't quite as vanished as she implied. Just … foggied, removed from personal context. She remembered most of her life—it had trickled back bit by bit—but the names of her friends and family, their faces, and even her feelings of fondness for them had been scrubbed away. It was eerie to think about. One of the reasons she was avoiding doing so.

"Well," Rosalie said. "Useful would be right, in that case. The last thing a Wayfarer needs is accidental motherhood. There's few ways to meteor a promising career with such speed."

Zoey bit her lip. That was true enough, not that there was anything wrong with wanting a kid early in life. Definitely threw a wrench in plans, though, if not specifically planned for.

She'd have to be more careful with herself. Again, not all fun and games.

Could slime-girls get knocked up?

Huh.

Probably best not to think about that. She'd choose to believe 'no'.

Condoms, and potions made from this 'blossom blight', as soon as possible. Better safe than sorry, heading forward.

"How's potion-making work, anyway?"

"And I would know, why?"

Zoey blinked. "I don't know. You know everything."

Rosalie huffed. "Hardly. The arcane crafts are complex, and take a lifetime to master. They're not something I have more than a peripheral understanding of."

Complex? "Was kinda hoping you just threw stuff in a cauldron and stirred."

Rosalie gave her an unimpressed look. "To think you were bestowed a crafting rune. It's almost offensive."

"You weren't?"

"Of course I wasn't."

"It's rare?"

"To receive both three combat runes and a rune of arcane crafting? Rare is a comical understatement. Not to mention your primary—Bonding—being a mythic-tier rune. And Sensuality, a superior." She shook her head in disbelief. "If you had recounted it to me instead of shown me, I'd have laughed at the absurdity of the lie. It wouldn't even have been within the bounds of believability."

Zoey took that in. She was a bit confused at the announcement. "But you didn't seem that surprised when you first read my anima."

"Didn't I? What was I supposed to do? Clasp my hand to my mouth and faint? My jaw drop, and start stuttering over my words?"

No, that didn't sound like Rosalie. Fair enough. The widened-eyes and intake of air had probably been all the indicator Zoey had needed to know her circumstances were incredible. Just, she hadn't gotten a grasp on who Rosalie was, yet. "Huh." She corralled her thoughts back to the original question. "So, alchemy's difficult? It'll take study?"

"You'll need to apprentice under someone. If you choose to pursue advancing the rune, it'll be a challenge balancing your obligations. You'll need to decide where your priorities lie."

"With you," Zoey said. "So I guess wayfaring. My other runes."

Rosalie stared, then glanced away, cheeks coloring. Zoey realized she'd been frank to the point of being revealing. "Give it some thought. You have options available. Few are so fortunate to be in your position, and it deserves consideration."

Zoey didn't have to give it thought, but for both their sakes', she said, "Okay. I will." A brief pause. "I'll be able to do some stuff, though, right? With alchemy?"

"I'm sure that depends on your aptitude, the quality of your mentor, and the usefulness of the skills the rune affords you as you advance. No two paths—even for the same rune—are the same."

"I see." She pursed her lips. "Could I like, commission someone to make potions with this, then?" She held up the bag of blossom blight, because that had been what prompted this whole train of thought.

"I don't see why not. But alchemists can be expensive."

"But it'd be in the budget?"

"Likely," Rosalie said. She narrowed her eyes. "Depends on the yield of this shard's loot. But perhaps not high on the priority list, when you could simply control yourself. Or are condoms—or, the gods forbid, abstinence—an option wholly impossible for you?"

Zoey coughed. "Right. Uh … yeah. Not high on the list, got it."

Rosalie shook her head in exasperation. She gestured at the chest for Zoey to move things along.

Her hand scrambled at the bottom of the wood, but found nothing.

"It's empty, I think?"

Rosalie nodded. "Perfect. We can leave."

They'd emptied out the other chest, already. It had been mostly practical equipment—a scattering of mundane items of the sort useful in day-to-day wayfaring, or if not that, unidentified equipment to be sold or inspected back at a city.

"I'm guessing that's the exit?" Zoey asked, gesturing at the black void embedded on the wall opposite from the chests. When she'd first fallen into the hidden cavern, she'd noted that there were two things of interest. The first, the chests, and the second, the black portal. "Mel said the exit was past the clearing. Are there multiple?"

"Depends on the shard. But yes. And in this one, clearly so." She was already striding toward the portal, not a person who preferred to waste time. She stopped just at the edge. Zoey arrived at her side.

"Guess the tutorial's finally over," Zoey said.

Rosalie gave her an odd look.

"Never mind," Zoey laughed. "You ready?"

"Of course I am."

Zoey slipped her hand into Rosalie's. Rosalie glanced down at it and frowned. But she didn't pull away.

"Here we go, then," Zoey said.

They stepped forward.

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Zoey's skin went cold, her stomach sank, and the ground was thrown from her feet. For one never-ending second, she was torn apart, scattered to the wind like an urn emptied into the ocean breeze. Then she snapped back to coherency, reassembled in an instant.

She staggered and almost fell, if not for Rosalie's powerful grip steadying her.

"You really are a novice," her blonde partner said, amused.

"Woah. That was … trippy."

Zoey blinked around at their new surroundings, eyes adjusting to the light. They had been wandering around dimly lit areas for so many hours that having the sun back above her was an almost painful experience. Sunset approached, streaking the sky with orange-yellow rays.

They stood in an autumn forest, leaves having shed from the twisted branches to coat the ground in a decaying blanket. The foliage crunched as Zoey turned in a circle. Crickets chirped and birds sang somewhere in the background. Zoey had gotten so used to the shard's eerie silence that the noise of a living forest caught her off guard.

The air was dry and hot. There were no landmarks in any direction. Certainly not anything man-made.

"Where are we?" Zoey asked.

"In the Fractures." She shrugged. "Where? Who knows?"

"So we're lost?"

"A Wayfarer is always lost. Now we seek an outpost." She chose a random direction—or what appeared to be so by Zoey—and walked.

Zoey jogged after her. Like usual, Rosalie spared not a moment before moving to practical matters.

It made sense to get moving. They could cover ground as they talked. "Right. So, what's the plan? How do we find … an outpost?"

Rosalie heard the question in her voice: 'outpost'?

"The Fractures are scattered with them. We're hardly in a unique situation. They're rest points. We'll eat, sleep, then enlist a guide to aid us back to proper civilization."

"A guide?"

"The Fractures are too numerous, and shifting, for a Wayfarer to navigate themselves. Guides spend their lifetimes wrangling even a basic understanding of their local cluster, and still struggle. But they're more competent than we could hope to be."

That made sense. Zoey had gained a basic understanding of how the Fractures, and shards, worked in their previous talks. Haven, at the metaphorical 'top' of the ladder, was safe, but was a barren wasteland, lacking resources and arable land. Wayfarers—those granted runes—ventured into the Fractures, a collection of shattered pocket-realms, accessed through scattered 'Gates' in Haven, to bring back resources to feed and supply their civilian population.

The Fractures were littered with threats of their own, but not nearly as deadly and frequent as those found in shards, which swarmed with monsters. Though, danger levels varied. The realms of the Fractures were rated in the same way as shards, through an 'advancement' score which lined up to the rune system. First-advancement shards tended to expel Wayfarers into first-advancement pockets of the Fractures, so the place she and Rosalie had found themselves in was safer, overall, than the shard they'd been in. But not safe, necessarily. They'd need to be on the lookout.

Zoey didn't have a perfect understanding of how everything slotted together, but she had a foggy picture. It was a lot to take in.

"Okay. So, outpost, eat, rest, clean up, then set out to a bigger city. What's our future look like after that?" They crunched along the forest floor, picking over logs and avoiding low-hanging branches. Zoey wondered how long it would be before they found hints of a path, or something else that would lead them to an 'outpost'. Rosalie had pulled all manners of survival supplies from that chest in the dungeon, her 'inventory chest', so they had everything they needed for an extended period of roughing it. But Zoey would rather not be making a multiple-day hike. It sounded like Rosalie expected it to not take long.

"There's a repeating process to an efficient Wayfarer," Rosalie said. "Clear a shard, loot it dry. Equip what you can. Haul the rest back to a city, identify and sell it, then stock up on whatever supplies were expended. Perhaps take a day or two to rest and heal, if necessary. Then set out to an appropriate advancement zone and explore until you find a shard entrance. Rinse and repeat." She paused. "Things complicate with parties, but I've been working alone."

It would sound monotonous, if not for the implied variety in every adventure. "Why?"

"I prefer it." She shrugged. "I'd have eventually partied up, since it's all but a necessity as advancement raises, but for now … I went solo."

"Eventually?" Zoey quoted. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Not long," Rosalie said, surprising her. "I'm only second advancement. This was my seventh trip. It's been … two weeks?"

"Two weeks?" Zoey had figured Rosalie some kind of extensive veteran. She carried herself like one. Clearly, it was her upbringing. She'd been prepared for this from a young age. Which brought a question to mind, "How old are you, anyway?"

"Eighteen, and two weeks," Rosalie said, emphasizing the second part to point out she'd entered immediately on her eighteenth birthday. "Wayfarers aren't allowed into the Fractures until adulthood. That's when runes develop."

Zoey had figured Rosalie older than her, for some reason. The way she presented herself, so stoic and composed. Determined. Zoey had assumed she was in her early twenties at the oldest, based on her appearance, but eighteen? Younger than she'd thought. "Huh. I'm nineteen."

Rosalie shot her a look. "You entered late, then. I wonder why, when you were given such powerful runes."

Well. She hadn't been given them at eighteen, like the regulars of this world. She'd been given them a year and some change later, after being yanked through dimensions by a perverted goddess.

Not something she could explain to Rosalie. Even if Ephy's order to not do so hadn't hung over her head, she might not have wanted to. Rosalie wouldn't believe her. Who would? She'd rather come off as an amnesiac, or even secretive, than a crazy person.

"Not sure," Zoey said. "I've really got no clue what's going on with me." An honest statement.

Rosalie pursed her lips. "Are you going to seek out your family, when we make it to safety? Try to find someone you know?"

That would be a reasonable thing to do. Zoey wondered how to answer it. "Probably not." She didn't expand.

Rosalie didn't push. She, at least, understood not spilling one's heart or motivations out. She had her own secrets she was keeping—and poorly. Who her father was, for one, or who she was in general. Zoey didn't need to be a detective to see Rosalie was someone important, and trying to hide the fact.

"Will you be?" Zoey asked.

Rosalie paused, then grimaced. "Eventually, I'll have to."

"You should have already?"

"Yes. My family won't be pleased I dawdled."

"They're Wayfarers, too?"

"Of course."

"Why haven't you?"

A silence. Zoey wondered if she'd pushed too far—even though she'd barely pushed at all.

"I've been enjoying some time away," Rosalie eventually admitted. "My family is …" she struggled for how to put it.

"Demanding," Zoey suggested. "Domineering."

Rosalie looked at her. "Precisely. How did you know?"

"You don't sound upset with them, but you want to be away. It's not that hard of a guess." And competence like Rosalie's, at such a young age, doesn't come from a soft, comfortable upbringing.

"Well, yes," Rosalie said. "I can avoid returning for a few weeks yet, before they become concerned. My sister did something similar. As long as I arrive having done something with myself—third advancement, preferably, nearing fourth—then the consequences won't be too dire."

Dire. That was quite the word to use, in reference to the reception of your family after some time away. Zoey frowned, making unkind judgments on what her parents must be like. "Okay. And in the meantime? More granular. What's the plan once we hit the city? Just trying to get a feel for things."

"Hm." Rosalie organized her thoughts as they walked. "First, drop the items off with an artificer so they can be identified, paying for expedited work. Better to be efficient, and have it ready in the morning, than maximize profit. After, we'll visit a clothing store and get some attire better suited to you."

The poorly-fitting shirt, underwear, and pants were pretty annoying. And she'd like a bra. Zoey'd never had that big of a bust, but now—uh, definitely more than most. She'd rather have had a smaller, but still shapely, chest like Rosalie's, as she'd had before. But Ephy had been insistent her body fit her status as her 'champion'.

"Following that," Rosalie said, "we'll register at the local guild, stock up on Wayfaring supplies, perhaps check the job board, then—since the items won't be ready till morning—we'll visit an alchemist shop. Get you acquainted to what a profession in alchemy would be like."

"Oh," Zoey said. "Cool. That's—" nice? Considerate of her? "Thanks."

Rosalie shrugged. "You sounded interested. And we'll have time while we wait for the items to be identified."

Zoey grinned at Rosalie's inability to reply with a 'your welcome'. She absolutely refused to admit that she was a sweetheart, despite the serious outward demeanor. Because arranging a meetup with an alchemist wasn't something she needed to do; or even should have, assuming they were looking to become Wayfarers.

"And the guild," Zoey said. "What's that about?"

Rosalie paused. "Wayfarers congregate in guilds. Most gather under one of the three highguild banners, but they're technically their own entities, with their own guildhalls and hierarchy. They serve as a places to rest, put together parties, stock up on basic supplies, so on. We'll rent a room there for the night."

"Highguilds?"

"The prominent political entities of the Fractures. Striders, the Deepshunters, and the Sovereign." She paused. "Though the last aren't a guild in the traditional sense. We're in Striders territory, assuming the shard didn't shunt us out exceptionally far, which it shouldn't have."

"Is that yours?"

"No," Rosalie said. "My family is aligned under the Deepshunters. I would suggest you don't mention the fact. Highguild relations aren't … friendly."

Zoey didn't imagine a society composed of violent adventurers would have the most copacetic of diplomatic relations. And seeing how there was 'territory' associated with each, that implied disputes—of the 'warring' or at least 'skirmishing' sort. Even back on Earth, in modern society, people hadn't figured out how to be good to each other. No difference here. "I won't." That Rosalie trusted her enough to tell her was flattering, honestly. "Why aren't the Sovereign a normal highguild?"

"They have no subsidiaries. And you need to be seventh advancement to join, which is … difficult. They have few members in comparison to the other two highguilds, and they're loosely unified. The name gives it away. They're powerful Wayfarers who wanted to be left out of politics."

"So they banded together and told the other two to fuck off." Zoey respected that.

"Precisely. Though for being allegedly 'out of politics', they exert their influence with annoying frequency."

Zoey frowned. With annoying frequency. That made it sound like their interventions were annoying in a personal sense, more personal than a low-ranking member of one of the guilds might view it. Zoey was making assumptions here, but she guessed Rosalie's family was high up the hierarchy of the Deepshunters, enough where the Sovereign's machinations were something her family griped over at the dinner table; that was the tone she'd taken, as if she took personal offense. She briefly considered voicing this observation, but decided not to. If Rosalie wanted to be secretive, that was her right. Especially when Zoey was being so herself.

"You said you had a sister," Zoey said instead. "Just one?"

"Two," Rosalie said. "One a year older, the other six. You?" She grimaced immediately. "You don't remember. I spoke carelessly."

Zoey shrugged. She was hardly offended. Though the fact she couldn't remember whether she had siblings was upsetting. "How are they?"

"Fine. I'd rather not talk about family."

Zoey had seen something of the sort coming, but she'd wanted to try, regardless.

They crunched along the autumn forest.

"Think we'll be able to sell the stuff we found?"

"The less appropriate items, you mean?"

"Yeah." Obviously the regular equipment and items would sell fine—or poorly, whichever was the standard for low-advancement items. "It sounded like you'd never seen anything like them, so wouldn't that mean they're valuable?" Rare usually meant expensive.

"Likely. Though … distasteful … it's possible we've found ourselves a trove of novelty items."

Sex does sell. Like that tongue stud she'd claimed for herself—she was sure that would find a buyer, if she'd been willing to sell. Zoey knew she herself would put a probably embarrassing amount of her funds down on it. Because giving magically enhanced head? That was awesome. She couldn't wait to try it out.

"How rare do you think they are?" Zoey asked. "Are they like, never-heard-of-before? Or just uncommon?"

Rosalie considered the question. "Truthfully, I wouldn't know. It's not a topic I've ever wandered on, whether shards provide erotic toys as part of their drop tables—" there it is again, Zoey thought, the seamless use of such game-like terminology, "—but they are known for having incredible variance. I'm sure there's been similar items collected. Perhaps it just never came up in conversation, being obviously unsuitable for polite company."

"But still rare, at least somewhat. It'll make good money."

Rosalie shrugged. "Sure. I don't know for certain. Money doesn't particularly matter, truth told."

"It doesn't?"

"A Wayfarer who relies on top-of-the-line equipment to advance through shards—and their runes—is hardly a Wayfarer at all. Items should be supplemental and nothing more. Doubly true at the lower advancements."

"Huh," Zoey said. "I like the purist attitude. How about you back your words up?"

"Sorry?"

"Let's do the next one naked, too."

Rosalie shot her a disgusted look, which Zoey only grinned at. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, you incorrigible woman?"

"Very much," Zoey said shamelessly. "Very, very much. To think I'll only get to see you naked sometimes, now …" she sighed.

"Sometimes?" Rosalie huffed. "That implies you will again."

"Oh, I think I will," Zoey said. "And I think you know that, too."

Rosalie flushed and didn't reply. She did, however, pick up speed, forcing a laughing Zoey to jog after her.

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

It was past dark when the outpost came into view. Zoey's legs ached from the walk. She hadn't been an inactive person back home, but she'd been exerting herself (in more than a few meanings of the word) constantly since waking ten hours ago, and the activities had taken their toll. Fortunately, she had magical assistance to lean on. The murky-yellow potions they'd looted provided a supernatural boost in stamina which eased her pained muscles, and the blisters she had started to collect were washed away by their red counterparts, the health potions.

Magic. Super convenient stuff.

They had stumbled on a dirt path after an hour of walking. Whether by providence or luck, Zoey didn't know. Rosalie said it was faster than usual, but most ventures back to town were short things. From there, a two hour's trip led them to the edges of a tiny outpost. She meant tiny; there were six or seven buildings in total. Outposts were scattered all throughout the Fractures, ready to host people in her and Rosalie's situation, and since the Fractures were already less populous than Haven—where the bulk of this world's society lived—these outposts usually held less than twenty people, and much of them were migratory.

Zoey admired the architecture as Rosalie beelined to the inn, where they'd be resting for the night. The buildings were well-made but distinctly medieval-European. She intuited a few answers to her earlier musings: the world's technology level wasn't quite caught up to Zoey's. That was bizarre to think about. She hoped she wouldn't be lacking too many modern amenities. Zoey would miss cellphones and being able to look up whatever she wanted, when she wanted, but it wasn't something she'd die without. Running water, plumbing, air conditioning, and such? She hoped Rosalie's world had figured out magical alternatives to those, because she'd feel those absences much more sharply.

Entering the tiny inn (at a guess, it could host up to four; these outposts weren't meant to be stayed at for long, or see traffic in general) Zoey saw they had at least figured out pseudo-electrical lighting: warm yellow lights hummed in the ceilings, some—what appeared to be—arcane symbol carved into the glass, and only visible because Zoey had squinted up at it in curiosity. The lantern left a black afterimage. Zoey briefly, and humorously, wondered if a health potion would make it go away faster, but she didn't test it; she simply blinked the imprint away while Rosalie greeted a heavyset innkeeper at the counter.

Emphasis on heavy-set.

For, uh.

A couple reasons.

The man was made of granite.

What the hell, Zoey thought. She had given thought to the possibility of other races existing in this world, but she'd forgotten about it, truth told. Until here, now, with an animated piece of rock hunched over the counter and speaking to Rosalie.

"One night, and a meal in the morning, if you please." Rosalie spoke to him with the dismissive nature of someone used to making these professional arrangements. The fact he was a person composed of chunky, interlocking blocks of stone didn't provide the slightest reaction; this was an utterly mundane sight to Rosalie.

The innkeeper didn't seem offended for Rosalie's brusqueness. He was blinking sleep out of his eyes, with her and Rosalie having arrived past when he'd settled down for the night. The bleariness was seriously odd for how humanizing it was. Zoey shook away the disorientation; she didn't want to be caught staring. This should seem normal to her, even accounting for amnesia.

"Two rooms or one?" the rock-man asked.

"Tw—" Rosalie barely started, before being interrupted by Zoey.

"One is fine."

Rosalie narrowed her eyes at Zoey, but after Zoey grinned at her, she conceded. "One is fine."

Coins passed hands, and the innkeeper handed them a key and gave directions. He ambled off through the door behind him. To his own quarters? Zoey stared at his enormous back as he went. The rock-man was built like a boulder, forgive the pun.

Rosalie and Zoey walked up crickety stairs and retired in a small but well-furnished room. Zoey explored the space, interested. With her first impression of the old building, she'd expected using the restroom would include an outhouse, but she quickly found that wasn't true. There was a bathroom in the inn room, their own, and it was furnished with running water, a sink, toilet, and a metal tub. There was even a shower head sticking from a pole. Zoey released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. She wouldn't have to be dealing with medieval-times bathroom procedures. Maybe not quite up to modern standards, but there was plumbing. How? Magic, Zoey was sure. She didn't care. Hot water, and a shower, sounded heavenly.

She paused at the mirror above the sink. It was the first time Zoey had seen herself since the changes. A hand traced her cheek and nose as she inspected herself, an inexplicable feeling of dread settling in. This wasn't her face. Or even her. This person in the mirror was too beautiful, too flawless. There were hints of Zoey, sure. She recognized her features. The ratios and structure were similar. But anything that could remotely be called a flaw had been smoothed over. Her hair was a glossy, gorgeous black, almost comically attractive for how chaotic the day had been. It ought to be covered in grime, dirt, and tangled. Which it kind of was, but looked rugged for the fact. Good, not gross.

She grimaced and looked away. Maybe eventually she'd be appreciative of what Ephy had done to her, but right now, it bordered on upsetting. Zoey had liked her face. It wasn't perfect, and she'd been fine with that. She hadn't needed, or wanted, 'fixing'.

And that was just her face. Her body had seen plenty of changes too. More comprehensive ones.

Deal with it later.

A smaller voice said, or never. Don't think about it all.

"Hey," Zoey called. "You want first shower? Or do you want to share?"

Rosalie appeared in the bathroom doorway. "I permitted this under the assumption you wouldn't be … well, yourself. Don't push things. You take the first, and I won't be joining."

"Just offering," Zoey grinned. "A 'no' would've been enough."

Rosalie rolled her eyes and left. "Don't take too long," she said. "I feel disgusting."

The same for Zoey. Today had been an endless stream of sweat, orgasms, slime, and rolling around in nature. The hot springs had helped, but some soap, hot water, and scrubbing would do wonders for returning to a status of 'human being'.

Or 'sapient being'? Considering the rock-man innkeeper, Zoey might need to adjust how she referred to certain things. 'Humanity' referred to a specific subset of sapient life, now. Weird. She'd probably fumble her phrasing, here and there, in the coming weeks.

(Weeks, months, years, decades? How long?)

Zoey closed the door, stripped from the men's clothing Rosalie had provided her, and draped them over the towel rod, edging the towel over to make space. She paused half-way through it, realizing she could drop the items into her inventory. It would be a while before that ability internalized. She'd already situated the clothes, so she didn't bother.

She turned around and inspected her body.

The changes were less upsetting as with her face. Zoey didn't view her figure as 'her' as much as her face, for obvious reasons.

Ephy had been generous. Zoey had already seen her abs, but in the mirror they were much easier to take in. It had taken a serious diet and months of crunches to even get a hint of those things peeking through, back when she'd actually tried to have some, and here she was now, zero effort, rocking a six-pack that she could grate cheese against. Maybe it's not all bad, Zoey admitted, flexing and rubbing her hand against the bumpy ridges. She'd definitely gotten lucky in some regards. She cupped her breasts and inspected those, too. Besides her height, her chest had been what had taken the most immediate adjusting to, because the weight had made itself noticeable right on transformation. Zoey hadn't been totally flat chested before, but she hadn't had much. And they hadn't been nearly as perfect as these. Shapely, huge, cute nipples a light shade of pink, evenly proportioned, and looked natural to her body shape. It's definitely not all bad, Zoey thought.

The cock she didn't pay much mind to. She'd become well acquainted to it, more than anything else. Though the new perspective—looking at it through the mirror—did give her pause. She turned her hips side to side to admire it. Was it narcissism she hardened at the sight? Probably. It didn't really seem like 'her body', and it felt like ogling a stranger, so Zoey didn't think she could be entirely blamed. Because it was a damn nice cock, regardless of who it belonged to.

All in all, one of the best figures she'd ever seen. She saw no flaws anywhere. Stomach, hips, abs, legs, tits, face, hair—all of it, perfect. A supermodel right before the shoot.

She wished she could find a flaw. The sight creeped her out. She'd admire it on someone else, but not her.

Zoey sighed, then turned away from the mirror. Most people would be happy about this, wouldn't they?

The body changes, at least, and the face. Not the 'memories stolen, transported to a different world' part.

She wandered over to the metal tub and played with the handles and knobs until she figured out how to get water pouring from the shower head. She tugged the curtain around so water wouldn't get everywhere, waited for it to heat, then stepped in.

Like she'd predicted, the spray of steaming water on her skin was orgasmic. She scrubbed herself down with the provided bar of soap. She hesitated before using it for her hair, but she was in a beggars-couldn't-be-choosers situation here, so quickly lathered her hands up and scrubbed that down too. Don't think hair-care matters much, anymore. Seeing how it had been glossy and perfect after a full day of filth, she suspected Ephy's blessing would keep Zoey looking beautiful regardless of what was happening. No conditioner and some less-than-ideal soap usage wouldn't be the breaking point.

She flicked off the water knob and stepped from the tub. A glance in the mirror showed her skin red and flushed from the heat. She'd always preferred steaming showers. One of her girlfriends had complained about it. A girlfriend whose name or face she couldn't remember, scrubbed from her memories like the filth had just been from her skin. Her stomach twisted, and she shied away from thinking about it.

"All yours," Zoey called out, stepping from the bathroom, having wiped herself dry with the towel. She wore her underwear and her shirt, but not her pants. She'd dropped those into her inventory.

Rosalie's eyes shied from Zoey's bare legs, which she grinned at. Hadn't Rosalie spent an entire day staring at Zoey's naked body? Enjoying her naked body? And now some bare legs had her blushing and looking away. The reaction was, in a word, adorable.

Rosalie had been writing in a journal when Zoey walked in, but she closed it, and it vanished a second later.

"You keep a diary?" Zoey asked.

Rosalie snorted and didn't clarify. Not a diary, she could assume. Knowing Rosalie, some kind of mission log, perhaps a listing of what items they'd gathered, or some other practical venture. Rosalie stood.

"Sure you don't want company?" Zoey asked as she passed.

"Quite positive."

"Okay. I'll get the bed warm for us."

Rosalie shot an irritated look over her shoulder. "I'll be sleeping when I'm done. Don't get your hopes up. I'm tired."

Zoey collapsed back into the soft sheets and stared up at the ceiling. The water turned on and pounded in the background, through the wall. She debated on whether she'd try anything with Rosalie when she came back. She sounded serious about not wanting to, but if she had been uncomfortable with intimacy, she'd have declined Zoey's suggestion to share a room. Her earlier words were probably to save face. Rosalie could never be outwardly suggesting having fun together. Zoey had learned that much about her. So it'd be on Zoey to initiate.

But as the minutes ticked by, Rosalie taking her time in the shower, Zoey's eyes started to sag.

Asleep before the door clicked open, she didn't get to see Rosalie's disappointed frown as she stared down at Zoey's sleeping form. Or hear the soft sigh that escaped her lips.

"Idiot," Rosalie whispered. "I even shaved."

Chapter 18

Chapter Text

Rosalie d'Celestin had heard that the Fractures—and to a greater extent, their shards—were above all else, capricious. Fickle. No two behaved the same, and even the same shard was prone to aberrancy within its domain. But the one she had shared with her tall, dark-haired companion had been many times odder than she had prepared for, even accounting for this.

It concerned her, truthfully, whether partnering with Zoey would result in similar shards. Would all latch to such … indecorous … behavior as a result of Zoey's runes? Or had the previous shard been an outlier? If the former, Rosalie might have to reconsider her decision to adventure with Zoey.

Or did she? Had it really been that bad? For all the discomfort it had provided, it had also offered some … 'not' … discomfort …

She couldn't explicitly say she had fun. A d'Celestin would never.

And who was this girl, anyway? Rosalie stared into the sleeping face of the strangest woman she'd ever met, her heart finally calming from its pounding.

Rosalie had never woken in the arms of another person. She had never thought it would turn her insides to a gooey mess, or have her stomach bouncing with butterflies to the point she felt nauseous. But that had been what happened, five minutes ago, when Rosalie's eyes had fluttered open, and she had felt herself entangled by the soft heat of a woman she'd shared more intimacy with than anyone in her life.

It wasn't any person who would have invoked the feelings. Not 'waking in another's' arms by itself. It was because it was the odd, caring, gorgeous woman she'd met the day prior who was breathing softly next to her. Rosalie's body pressed tightly into Zoey's, and while, having come down from the bliss in some small manner, she could now be frank, now admit that things were a bit warmer than she'd have preferred, with sweat starting to gather where their bodies met, Rosalie still wouldn't have broken contact for anything. She'd have laid this way an hour. Two. However long she could.

Not that she would ever, in one hundred years, under extensive torture, admit such.

Besides, it was a biological reaction. A weak, human one. Rosalie didn't care for Zoey, not really. She was a potentially useful party member, and that was why Rosalie had offered to partner with her, regardless that it would take ages to catch her up to speed, and that she showed no natural talent for combat. She had rare, powerful runes—one that even accelerated Rosalie's own advancement!—and that was the reason Rosalie wanted to be around her.

That was the reason she studied Zoey's sleeping face and felt like she might float away. Her runes.

Did that make sense?

Even an intense effort in self-deception couldn't quite get her to a 'yes', so she chose not to think about it.

Rosalie knew herself quite well in some regards, and exceptionally poorly in others. That was what a life of focus afforded: imbalance. To exceed, sacrifices needed to be made. Romance had been one of many for Rosalie, growing up.

And it would remain that way. The barest, tiniest hints of a crush (was that what it was? With a thrill, Rosalie realized she had found a word for it) meant nothing. Her goals hadn't shifted one inch. Her circumstances, either. She was still the youngest daughter to Enzo d'Celestin, Guildmaster of the Deepshunters, one of the five single most powerful men in existence. To say she had expectations piled on her would be a comical understatement. 'A mountain' might not do it justice.

But pressure hardened. Made stronger. The crushing pressure her father exerted was not some form of cruelty. Enzo was not cruel, for all his faults; his position merely demanded it. His violent efforts during Rosalie's upbringing had been to chisel from granite a successor worthy of his title. His two previous attempts—Elodie and Charlotte—had not emerged from the stone to his liking.

Rosalie hadn't either, she suspected. But a few smidges closer. And she'd drawn his scathing attention from her sisters, so she was pleased with that, at least. They had become less miserable when Rosalie had been chosen as his successor.

As for Rosalie?

Well. When a mountain rested on her shoulders, what were a few more boulders?

The past two weeks had been some of the best of her life. She'd done nothing but commit herself to carving through shards, advancing her runes, gathering equipment and resources, then repeating. This task, she'd been trained for her entire life—and was many times easier than her training. It had been a vacation. Away from her father.

Vacations were something d'Celestins were rarely afforded.

And Zoey. Zoey had been the gilded lining to an already solid block of gold. The 'good' piled on good. Almost more than Rosalie's (tiny, insignificant, miniscule, irrelevant, pointless, distracting, shouldn't-exist) crush, it was her casual companionship that Rosalie (didn't, absolutely not, why would she?) adored.

Rosalie hadn't had friends growing up. She'd only had her sisters. And those were … complicated relationships. Charlotte especially. For all she'd been plainly happier Father's attention had shifted to Rosalie, she was still furious she'd been discarded as heiress.

She hates me for it. Charlotte had doted over her, before Father had chosen Rosalie. No longer. But she's happier now. What was being hated, in face of that?

Something in Zoey's breathing pattern changed. Her nose twitched. She's waking up.

A few moments later, Zoey's eyes opened.

The smile that melted across Zoey's face pained Rosalie in a way she had never experienced.

"Good morning, beautiful," Zoey murmured.

Rosalie's heart did something it hadn't ever before. Something that mildly concerned her. She might have to talk to a physician about it. "You're a clingy sleeper," Rosalie said. "Perhaps I was justified in requesting two rooms."

"Mmm," Zoey said, stretching and rolling her neck—and squeezing Rosalie in, as a way to ease her muscles into wakefulness. Rosalie wasn't affected by the sudden pressure between their bodies. "Happy you didn't," Zoey mumbled, snuggling into her.

Rosalie scoffed. "We're on a schedule, if you don't realize. It's well past daybreak. We should get up."

"Can't I bask in the bliss of having a cute girl in my bed, for a second? You're such a taskmaster."

She scoffed again. Perhaps louder than was appropriate.

"Hey," Zoey said, suddenly. "What's a tingling in the back of your neck mean?"

Rosalie blinked.

"It feels like, uh, I don't know. Something's changed. It's weird."

Rosalie's brow furrowed as she extricated herself from Zoey's grasp. Now seated, and the covers thrown partially off, she frowned down at Zoey. "You did not advance a rune after a single shard."

Zoey blinked rapidly up at her. "Is that what happened?"

Without thinking, Rosalie placed a pointer finger on Zoey's forehead and requested to read her anima.

A second later,

Rune of Bonding (Mythic)

[1: Bond. Release seed onto or inside target and activate to Bond.

[1: Alacrity. Bonded targets evolve runes with greater speed.

[1: Bolster. Provides a powerful, temporary boost in strength to Bonded target.

Rune of Arcana (High)

[1: First Circle. Cast spells up to one Circle in complexity.

[1: Element: Ice.

Rune of Sensuality (Superior)

[1: Lust. Mana replaced with resource system Lust. Symbols are activated by expending Lust.

[1: Harvest. Perform erotic acts onto self or others to harvest Lust. Bonded targets provide greater yield.

[2: Pressure Point. Identify sensitive areas.

[2: Accommodate. Tight spaces are more obliging.

Rune of the Alchemist (Common)

[1: Identify. Ascertain name and use of basic alchemy reagents when using Inspect.

Generalist Skills

[1: Inspect. Discern basic information about equipment linked to the System.

[1: Inventory. Store items in personal inventory-space.

She had. Rosalie opened her eyes and stared incredulously at Zoey. Her 'Rune of Sensuality' had moved from first to second advancement after only a single shard. And sure, she'd made good use of it—runes progressed on related activities, and Zoey had had plenty of … sensual engagements … in her time in the shard—but still. One shard? Absurd. It had taken Rosalie four before her first had progressed.

Her party-member's situation grew stranger and stranger.

"What's it say?" Zoey asked. "And you gotta show me how to do that myself, when you get the chance. Not that I mind sharing. With you, at least."

Rosalie paused, then flushed crimson. She'd just requested—and been given—access to a person's tabula anima with less ceremony than most spouses shared. And she doesn't even realize what it means. But Rosalie did. And she'd requested it nonetheless, without even voicing it into words.

Tiny, small, insignificant crush, she reminded herself. "You've gained two skills," Rosalie said, hoping the red she felt burning her face didn't show.

Zoey grinned. "They must be good, based on that." She poked at Rosalie's cheeks, which she swatted away, then huffed at.

Rosalie wasn't blushing because of Zoey's new skills—though they were, admittedly, embarrassing in their own right. She had no intentions of letting Zoey know the real reason.

"The first," Rosalie said pointedly, "is Pressure Point. It lets you identify sensitive areas of a target."

Zoey paused. "Okay, first, that's wicked. But is it for sex only, or like, monsters too?"

Zoey frankness, like usual, was hard to digest. She tried not to let it color her cheeks further. "I presume both. It seems ambiguously labeled on purpose." The Scribe could be vague in Her wording of offered skills. Most believed it to be intentional. Because obviously. Why would a deity's actions be unintentional?

"Awesome. Maybe next shard, I can help more. It kind of sucked being useless."

A foreign, instinctive urge bubbled up—to reassure Zoey. But such a nature wasn't who she was, at her core, and she pushed it down. Zoey had been dead weight when it came to most fights. She'd saved Rosalie twice, sure, but those had been odd circumstances. In a normal shard, she'd be worse than most party members by an order of magnitude. "It does sound useful," Rosalie said.

"The second?"

Rosalie cleared her throat.

"That's the embarrassing one," Zoey said, grinning.

"Accommodate," she recited. "Make tight spaces more obliging."

Zoey's grin widened. "Oh, thank god."

Rosalie, like multiple times before, noted the 'thank god'. It revealed more than Zoey likely realized. Why would a person be so openly blasphemous? The ease the phrase slipped from her, she didn't know she was doing it. Did she see only one god as as the 'true' god? Who? And why? The gods' presences in the mortal plane was hardly unproven; while rare, they presented themselves during moments of great duress. A documented fact.

A thought came to her, and Rosalie prevented a snort. Knowing Zoey, likely Ephythithys. Such a perverted woman would worship only the goddess of life, fertility, and sexuality, relegating all other deities to secondary importance. Though, why not 'oh my goddess', in that case? She supposed it wouldn't be wholly odd to refer to any individual member of the pantheon as god, regardless of presented gender, but still. Strange.

Like before, Rosalie didn't react to the accidental reveal. Truth told, she wanted Zoey to keep slipping up and offering hints into her past. Her 'memory problems' weren't as comprehensive as she presented. Though definitely they existed … her circumstances were odd in some manner Rosalie couldn't decipher, but most of what she said seemed honest. Rosalie didn't want to push the point.

Did she have a right, when she so plainly hid who she was?

"It does seem useful, considering your …"

"Prodigious size?"

"Unseemly size."

"Unseemly?" Zoey pouted. "That's not very nice."

"It's bigger than my forearm."

"And that's a bad thing?"

No. Absolutely not. "Obviously."

Zoey paused. "Yeah. I guess it is. Too big's painful, which isn't fun." She grinned. "But that's fixed now, isn't it?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"How effective it is."

"Yeah, I guess so." An even more wicked smile. "Wanna help me find out?"

Rosalie's heart started slamming in her chest. She forced her nose to wrinkle in disgust. "No, not particularly."

"But you're a helpful party-member, so you will?" Zoey suggested playfully—and tauntingly, as if she saw through Rosalie.

Rosalie made a show of considering it, then reluctantly said, "I suppose it's my duty." She finished throwing off the sheets—which had shuffled down their waists from earlier movement—revealing Zoey's previously-hidden lower half. Zoey had started stiffening in anticipation of their conversation. Her enormous cock poked out from the leg-hole in her underwear, growing to her knee as it engorged with blood.

How can she even think straight when that thing gets hard? It had to take up half her body's blood.

She doesn't, Rosalie reminded herself. She doesn't think straight. Zoey's kind and concerned nature receded when she was aroused. She'd seen it more than a few times. Not that I'm complaining.

Rosalie paused.

No, she was definitely complaining. Why would she be happy that whenever her dick got hard, Zoey treated Rosalie like an object to extract pleasure from?

A d'Celestin would never take enjoyment in such degrading treatment.

Rosalie's fingers hooked around Zoey's underwear as she tugged it down, springing forth a girlcock at least twelve inches long. It throbbed in veiny glory, leaking a liquid at its tip. Pre-come, Rosalie's limited knowledge on sex provided. "You really are such a troublesome teammate," Rosalie said, voice composed, despite her amazement—amazement that presented itself whenever she saw Zoey's member. How was it so big?

Why was it on a girl?

"Good thing I have a considerate mentor."

"Good thing, indeed," Rosalie huffed.

The scorching heat on her face wasn't showing, right?

Rosalie's hands went to Zoey's impressive cock and started stroking in a way she'd grown bizarrely familiar with. She savored the radiating heat, and the way it twitched in Rosalie's controlled movements. That wince. That breathless exhalation. I'm the reason for that.

Zoey pulled out a bottle of lube, then squeezed it on the top of her cock head. Rosalie fulfilled her duty and worked it in, slender fingers massaging in the slippery liquid.

"Hey," Zoey said suddenly, between side-to-side wiggling of her hips, and whining inhalations of pleasure. "If I wanted to put in that tongue ring, how's it work? Could I just shove it through and drink a health potion?"

Rosalie blinked at the question. "I would suggest a numbing agent first, but yes, that would be the general process. I could do it for you, if you want?"

A smile split Zoey's face. "I mean, you'd be the one reaping the benefits. So if you want to?"

Her heart skipped a beat. For a moment, she imagined Zoey's head shoved between her thighs, her diligent tongue working away to explore her insides—and aided by a magical item. What would it feel like? Even thinking about it had her breathing ragged.

Her response was calm, composed. "As if I'd let you put your gross mouth down there."

"Even if I asked nicely? I've been wondering what you taste like."

"Have you?"

"Since we met. You drive me crazy, you know that, right? You're gorgeous. The prettiest girl I've ever seen."

Coming from the actual most gorgeous person Rosalie had ever set eyes on, the compliment forced a flush onto her cheeks which even her denial didn't let her pretend wasn't obvious. She pointedly didn't meet Zoey's eyes, instead stroking her hands up and down Zoey's length. "Shut up," she ineloquently said.

Zoey laughed.

"We're testing your skill," Rosalie said. "Nothing more."

"Right. And how do you want to do that, again?"

Inside. Gods, please. Inside me. I want it so bad. "My mouth, obviously," she said, contradicting the throbbing between her thighs. "We don't have a condom."

"You don't? I thought you were supposed to be prepared?"

"And you think that includes condoms?" The outrage in her voice wasn't genuine, seeing how Rosalie desperately wished she did have them on hand. She had even been in such an addled state last night she'd shaved her pubic region in preparation for taking Zoey, consequences be damned. It was a good thing she'd fallen asleep. Rosalie had come to her senses by morning. Her throat was all Zoey would be getting.

"Sure. Just in case, right?"

Rosalie huffed.

"Still. Your mouth. No complaints. Last time was … pretty amazing."

"Last time, I had an aphrodisiac aiding me." There wasn't a chance Rosalie would have gotten so deep, without it. This time, she'd have Zoey's newest skill helping her … but with such girth and length, it'd still be an effort. "It'll be … a challenge."

Zoey sobered at the reminder of Rosalie's dubious consent to that encounter. Not that Zoey had had opportunity to consent either. Zoey had been more upset at the interaction than Rosalie had. Which was sweet. Rosalie would have reassured her—more than she had—about how Rosalie's chemical influence hadn't actually bothered her, but how could she, without revealing how badly she wanted—

Well.

She didn't want it, that badly. Zoey's cock was amazing, but it wasn't like any time her eyes caught it, her brain blanked out. It wasn't like anytime she saw Zoey's impressive mast, she couldn't think about anything besides what it would feel like stuffed inside her, what its throbbing heat would feel like squirming around in her insides. Or what'd it feel like crammed down her throat, cutting off her oxygen supply as Rosalie's eyes rolled back in euphoria, vision darkening at the edges as Zoey used her throat as a means of extracting an orgasm.

Rosalie's hands stroked up and down Zoey's cock in lewd motions. Rosalie had always been a person who picked up new skills fast. And this one—the way Zoey's hips wiggled and her cock pulsed in pleasure—was something she paid more attention to than most.

Because she was a diligent teammate. Wayfaring required teamwork. She was fulfilling her duty as Zoey's party-member. She was disgusted by her bizarre class, of course. The perverted collection of runes she'd been granted by the gods. But she'd persist regardless of her distaste. It was her duty as Zoey's teammate.

And why had she agreed to be her teammate?

Because … because …

Zoey was useful, obviously. She had potential.

She watched Zoey's body shiver in pleasure.

Zoey said, "I'm uh, ready. Don't wanna finish before we test things out, and you're, um, pretty good at this."

Right. Rosalie had initiated because they wanted to test Zoey's skill. Her determined two-handed stroking had only been to work the lubricant in. She'd gotten lost in—in absent-mindedness, not lust. Lust? Absurd. Rosalie couldn't be less aroused if she tried.

She stopped stroking, then repositioned herself, laying down, so her legs were halfway hanging off the bed, and Zoey's cock was positioned to the left of her face, its length pressing into her cheek. Zoey's expression was resolving into that hazy, lost-in-pleasure one that told Rosalie she would finally stop being nice.

Thank the gods. Rosalie greatly appreciated Zoey's consideration, but during sex, she—

She nothing. Zoey's mean, forceful, dominating behavior was irritating and nothing more. But she tolerated it. Like a good teammate would.

"What are you waiting for?" Zoey breathed.

Rosalie gripped the base of Zoey's cock and raised her mouth up to its tip. Why is it so gods-damned big?

"Hurry up."

Rosalie lips wrapped around Zoey's girlcock, then carried forward.

Chapter 19

Chapter Text

Zoey's cock spread Rosalie's mouth open, and she tasted Zoey's natural musk, a hint of vanilla on her stroking tongue, the inn's soap from their showers last night. Her jaw strained to accommodate her size. Rosalie wiggled her head down to get Zoey further in. It took only a few inches before she was hitting the back of her throat. Considering Zoey's length, it was almost comical how little Rosalie forced down before Zoey was bumping against her tight upper-opening, tickling her gag-reflex, which she stalwartly fought against.

Zoey's hands curled into Rosalie's hair, digging her long fingers in, and Rosalie savored the feeling. Almost more than the lustful satisfaction, it was these easy shows of intimacy—the sighs, and the burying of Zoey's hands into her hair—that had Rosalie's heart fluttering.

I have a girl's cock in my mouth. Though it had happened once before, the realization thrilled through her, igniting Rosalie's nerves. Zoey's cock. It's her pulsing cock that's stuffed into my mouth.

The haze of lust descended on Rosalie, now, not just Zoey.

Still gripping the base of Zoey's shaft, Rosalie opened her throat and let Zoey's cock slide in. Having such a large object enter a hole distinctly not designed for it was, of course, uncomfortable. But Rosalie savored the stretch. Or more accurately, savored the groan that escaped Zoey's mouth as her cock slid into Rosalie's tight throat.

"Good girl," Zoey muttered, hands providing a forceful pressure to bring her head further down. "Good girl."

Between Rosalie's thighs, her core pulsed with need. If only we had a condom. But they didn't, and even lost in a melting haze of lust, Rosalie's better sense prevented herself from risking pregnancy. She didn't know if a girl could get another girl pregnant, but why would she chance it?

Rosalie's throat spread open, inch by inch, and Zoey's width slid down her lubricated pleasure-hole. That's what it is. Zoey's pleasure-hole. Less than a day earlier, Zoey had extracted whining confessions from Rosalie—that her body was built for pleasure, that the wet, warm holes Rosalie owned existed entirely from the pleasure of Zoey. And it's true. What greater purpose could they serve than this? Than making Zoey whine in ecstasy? There was no greater noise in existence than her breathless exhalations.

And no greater sensation than having her head shoved down, throat spasming as she choked on the sudden intrusion of girlmeat.

"Sorry," Zoey gasped. "But deeper. Go deeper." Her hands, wrapped in Rosalie's hair, forced her down, not considerate in the slightest of the difficulty of having such girthy girlcock invade a hole not meant for anything but air and food.

As she shouldn't be. Rosalie's throat was built for Zoey's pleasure. It was hers to be used as she chose. Regardless of difficulty, unnaturalness.

Her throat convulsed around a pulsing shaft, and she coughed, diaphragm spasming, trying to reject the unnatural object stuffed down it, spreading throat flesh apart in an almost painful way. Her eyes watered with the effort.

Zoey didn't care. Her hips bucked, sending her unwieldy girlcock deeper.

Thank the gods. Rosalie wrapped her hands around Zoey's waist and helped. Could she swallow it all the way, even when she wasn't aided by the aphrodisiac? Clearly, Zoey's skill was working. A forearm sized object had no right fitting down Rosalie's throat, but there it was anyway, stuffing her tight hole, inch by inch.

And she would get it all the way down. She would. She didn't care if she passed out while trying. She didn't care if she choked on Zoey's cock. She would love it. Rosalie was a filthy, cock-hungry whore, and this was what she made for. She wiggled her head forward, trying to get it further. Another inch crammed down her throat. How is there still more? But she was almost at the base. She almost had her tight hole enveloping Zoey's needy cock in entirety.

She looked forward to when her throat had opened up, and she had gotten it accustomed to Zoey's size. Then, Zoey could thrust and pound, use her throat like the upper-pussy it was. Imagine that. Zoey hips jerking in and out, using Rosalie like the toy she was. To feel such massive length sliding up and down, in and out, as Rosalie choked on it. As Zoey whined in pleasure.

One of Rosalie's hands had gone between her legs, rubbing desperately to relieve some of the tension, and she hadn't even noticed. This is only about testing Zoey's skill. I shouldn't be … relieving myself. But her hand rubbed away, unheeding of Rosalie's shame.

Rosalie's shame. Did that exist, really? She'd rather it didn't. Who cared who she was? That she was the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the world? What Rosalie really wanted was to be a cocktoy. Zoey's cocktoy. That was her destination in life.

Her nose buried into Zoey's soft, dark pubic hair, and if Rosalie could have sighed in satisfaction, she would have. But her throat was rather full.

And, like Rosalie had hoped, with Rosalie's throat having widened and properly adjusted to Zoey's girth, Zoey started thrusting.

It was indescribable. The feeling of having girlcock stuffing her throat, sliding up and down, her pleasure-hole widening and tightening with every insertion and extraction. Rosalie's fingers rubbed desperately between her legs. I'm going to come before her, and she's not even doing anything to me. Was there anything more shameful? Not only was Rosalie letting herself be used—as was her body's purpose—but she'd be orgasming when her partner wasn't wasn't even pleasuring her.

A pulsing, hot need radiated from her lower body, and her body started to shake.

Zoey laughed, suffusing further shame into Rosalie. "Already?" Rosalie's vision was blackening at the edges. "Even I'm not there, yet." She continued thrusting into Rosalie even as she teased her.

She couldn't reply, her throat obviously wrapped around Zoey's enormous cock.

Zoey pulled her head up by her hair, violently, not at all like Zoey's usual self. The pain sharpened her, only amplifying Rosalie's orgasm. Zoey's cockhead popped from her throat, and Rosalie gasped, a biological instinct, even as her body convulsed.

Zoey fingers dipped to between her thighs, swatting away Rosalie's fingers and taking over her efforts herself.

Rosalie fell back and allowed herself to be forced to a twitching orgasm.

When it was over, Zoey crawled forward and placed her cock between Rosalie's breasts. Rosalie knew her role, even hazy from coming down from her crescendo. She pressed her tits tights and let Zoey slide between them. Zoey grunted as she picked up speed. She was getting close. She and Zoey had pleasured each other a few times before, so Rosalie had a basic read on her.

"Please. Give it to me. I want to taste it." Rosalie had never in her life imagined she'd say such words. Even as they passed her lips—her throat still aching from having accommodated such an enormous invader—she couldn't believe it was her saying them. She floated somewhere outside her body, listening to the perverted woman spewing obscenities. "Please, Zoey. Come for your little whore. Cover her tits. She wants to feel your warm seed. Please? For her?"

"I want you to swallow it."

Zoey's cock bumped against her chin as she thrusted. Rosalie said, "Every drop. I promise. Are you close?"

"Almost. Bit more."

She pressed her tits tighter and let herself be used. Eventually Zoey's face started to twist. She leaned forward, pushing Zoey off her—she was too lost in pleasure to remember her previous request—then slid Zoey's length down her throat again, to be used as a depositing vat for Zoey's orgasm.

Her cock spasmed, and hot, sticky seed erupted from her cock, directly down Rosalie's throat. Rosalie had only managed to get halfway, or three-quarters, down—even with her throat adjusted to Zoey's length—so the pulsing ejaculate of Zoey's girlcum soaked her throat in a different way from the first time, when Rosalie had her nose pressed into Zoey's crotch.

She coughed, unable to help herself. Zoey whined at the additional feeling, and despite Rosalie's discomfort at choking, she was pleased she could be of service.

Her stomach stuffed full of Zoey's seed bit by bit. Like usual, it took a while before Zoey's stomach stopped twitching with pleasure, and the hot ejections ceased, Zoey's cock having finished emptying itself. So much. How does she always produce so much? It was one of Rosalie's favorite parts. Zoey released an obscene amount of fluid, every time.

Zoey pulled out, and Rosalie felt twelve or more inches of cock slip from her throat. So amazing. She sputtered as she hacked cum into her hands. Her stomach couldn't fit it all. With so much poured in, and the intensity of her coughing fit, entire body heaving to clear liquid, some of it came out of her nose. She felt sloshy and full, coughing up big globs into her hand, throat convulsing as she expelled the foreign liquid.

"Shit," Zoey said, collapsing back in fluttery-eye exhaustion, watching the mess that was Rosalie as she tried to normalize her airways, cum dripping from her nose and mouth. "I think I might be in love."

The two of them froze.

They both ignored what she had said. It had been a joke. Something said in the heat of the moment.

Rosalie finished clearing her throat and said, "It looks like your skill works."

Zoey still seemed spent from the fun, but not so much she couldn't speak. I'll have to do better next time. "Yeah, guess it does. You're really amazing at that, Rosie."

Less than five people had ever been allowed the diminutive nickname, but somehow Zoey had wandered onto that list with improprietous, insolent ease.

Rosalie's center ached with unfulfilled desire, but now that Zoey had finished, how was she supposed to request further attention? Without coming off as …

Well, what she was. The lust-haze had receded in some small amount, so she couldn't be direct about things.

Rosalie wiped her mouth, then frowned disdainfully down at the sticky strands bridging between her fingers. "You would think with how often I use my mouth, you would, too."

Zoey's panting, exhausted expression cleared, shockingly fast, into something predatory. "You want me to? Use my mouth?"

Rosalie scoffed.

"I wanted to wait until the tongue ring," Zoey said. She leaned forward, off the pillows, and grabbed Rosalie by the waist, spinning and tossing her down so her own head was on the pillows. "But since you asked …"

"I most certainly did not." Her lower half squirmed in excitement.

"You really are a needy slut." Zoey's head was between her legs, her bright green eyes staring up at Rosalie, and Rosalie couldn't think straight—less even than before. "You need to ask. Tell me you want my tongue."

"The only thing I've wanted from your mouth," Rosalie panted, "was for it to stop making so much unnecessary noise."

Zoey sneered up at her. She ran a wet lick up the crease where her leg met her pelvis, then again, on the other side. Rosalie's thoughts went white.

"Say it." Her tongue worked above Rosalie's pussy, on the stubbly hair from last night's shaving. She has to have noticed. "I want it. Do you?"

Her response stuttered out of her. How could Zoey turn her into such a melting mess, with such ease? Rosalie was a d'Celestin, wasn't she? "If—If you want to."

"Not good enough. Try again." She pressed her lips to Rosalie's core, and Rosalie wiggled her lower half against Zoey's mouth, finding what pleasure she could. Just say it. You already know what you are. Her earlier statements had been from being lost in heat, and it had drawn back from her previous orgasm. But the next was building, and her mentality, her reservations, decayed, just as it had prior.

"I—I—"

"You're what? My what?"

"I'm your needy slut. Please, Zoey, I want to feel your tongue inside me. Please."

Zoey obliged, tongue sinking into Rosalie's heat. Rosalie's hands curled into dark, glossy hair as she whined in pleasure.

The feeling—like most of what Zoey could provide—was indescribable. Zoey's skilled, powerful tongue explored her insides, stirring around in circles and slow, curling strokes to gently coax out Rosalie's twitching reactions. How is she so good at this? It's not fair. How was I ever supposed to resist?

And her other skill had to be coming to use, here. Pressure Point—identify sensitive areas. Even accounting for skill, the way Zoey's tongue sought out Rosalie's tender spots was with much too accuracy to be natural. Almost before she could believe it, Rosalie's second orgasm was spasming through her body, her clenching lower hole shivering with pleasure. Her thighs closed around Zoey's head, as did her hands pushing down, getting her exploring tongue just a bit deeper. Which she took advantage of, curling against territory yet explored.

"F-Fuck me," Rosalie cried, hips jerking back and forth, raising Zoey's head with each lewd thrust, and bouncing the bed, creaking wooden beams. "Faster. Faster! Oh my gods!"

Ever the professional, Zoey worked her up, up, up, and then down, gently, only stopping when Rosalie's pitiful cries turned pained, and she pushed her head away. Zoey's eyes were hazy as she refused to release eye contact. Rosalie hadn't thought they could be prettier, but draped in lust, they somehow were.

Rosalie laid limp against the pillows, the last remnants of her orgasm shaking her. She wondered how every time Zoey extracted bliss from her, it was a more mind-blowing high than the previous.

"How was it?" Zoey asked, shimmying up and kissing her neck, then cheek, then forehead.

"It was … adequate …" Rosalie breathed.

Chapter 20

Chapter Text

Zoey's dreams were odd. Turned out, having her memories wiped by a demanding goddess resulted in dreams that didn't have much to latch to, and thus, were incoherent. Strange. Twisting and ephemeral. She wouldn't say they'd been outright upsetting, but they'd been bizarre. More mind-bending than most.

Rosalie's enthusiastic extracting from Zoey's lower half had made things up. Zoey's morning had started off pretty great, all things considered.

Rosalie had, of course, immediately upon their mutual satisfaction, risen from the bed and professed how they 'needed to get things moving'. Which was true enough. Zoey was supposed to be saving the world, whatever that meant. Why her party-member was more devoted to that goal than she herself was, Zoey didn't know. Considering Rosalie's urgent coaxing of Zoey's lower half, maybe Ephy had made the wrong choice. Here was a girl dedicated to power and sex in equal measure, for all her reticent and denying nature.

Why had Ephy chosen Zoey, anyway?

Zoey had a thousand and one impossible-to-answer questions bouncing around in her head, so it was hardly difficult to add that one to the list of 'ignored'. If there was any skill Zoey was cultivating since her arrival to this world, it was blissful ignorance.

She didn't ask, this time, to join Rosalie in the shower. And Rosalie didn't protest when she slipped in, then wrapped her hands around her waist, her lower half pressing into Rosalie's ass. Zoey was learning a few things about her serious-faced partner. Primarily, that she ought to stop asking, and start paying attention to how she reacted, instead. Which was a problematic mindset, Zoey knew. If a direct no ever came out of Rosalie's mouth, she would stop in an instant. But initiation—well, Zoey needed to be assertive when it came to that. Even if Rosalie alluded to not wanting Zoey's attention.

Shit. That sounds bad. She'd have to walk that tight-rope carefully. But for Rosalie? She would. Happily.

Zoey enjoyed the hot spray of water, hunched over and resting her head on Rosalie's shoulder as Rosalie lathered soap across herself, pretending to ignore Zoey. Or maybe actually ignoring her. Again, hard to tell with this girl.

"You're so useless," Rosalie huffed. "Not even going to help?"

Zoey laughed, water droplets slipping down her face and from her lips, before aiding Rosalie in lathering the soap across her body. She made sure to play with Rosalie's tits—rubbing pointer-fingers across cute, hard nipples until she was breathing hard—while getting her well and thoroughly clean.

Rosalie returned the effort, though stopped thrusting her hand into Zoey's cock when it had reached full mast. Tease, Zoey wanted to say, despite the fact she'd done the same thing just a second earlier, rubbing fingers into Rosalie's tits and between her legs.

They stepped from the shower, skin flushed in excitement, but knowing they needed to move on with their day.

Can't spend forever fucking each other, Zoey thought.

Which was a tragedy, but she'd have to learn to live with it.

Zoey watched Rosalie go about her morning routine. She dried her hair with some magical item that vaguely resembled a hairdryer—only vaguely, by function, a rock with some sigil carved into it that blew hot air—then how she wrangled her long, platinum hair into a ponytail. The domesticity of it all ached Zoey's heart.

"It looks great on you," Zoey said, which received a huff as Rosalie continued to go about her routine.

"Are you going to get dressed, or just watch me?

"The second."

Zoey savored the coloring in Rosalie's cheeks. Zoey's heart skipped a beat, and her earlier words—you'd be easy to fall for—hammered into her ears. Not easy. Effortless. Impossible to not.

It had already happened.

Shit.

Was it unreciprocated? Zoey couldn't be certain. Rosalie allowed Zoey to nuzzle her head into the crook of her neck, but she rolled her eyes when she did. When Zoey lathered her in compliments, she mostly seemed annoyed. And Zoey wanted to be confident that it was part of Rosalie's act, but such consistent rejections were hard to shrug off.

And sex was sex. It wasn't romance. Did Rosalie only like her for the pleasure she could provide?

Whatever. Zoey would have Rosalie in whatever manner she was willing to return.

They left the inn a few hours after sunrise. The innkeeper was less friendly with them than before. Maybe they'd made more noise than Zoey had thought.

They'd certainly left more mess than could be called considerate. Multiple pulsing orgasms weren't the cleanest of things, and it'd been impromptu enough Zoey had forgotten to lay towels out. She was still getting used to this whole, wielding-guy's-equipment thing.

She considered apologizing in advance, but sheesh, how awkward. The rock-man only disliked the noise they'd made. The mess would be discovered later.

Sorry, dude. Part of the job?

They left a tip in the form of an apology. He was slightly less annoyed after that. It must've been generous.

Their destination was routine: the squat, plain building the innkeeper provided. The guide's house. The person who would lead them to civilization greater than six tiny buildings.

The bartering was quick and harsh. The man seemed to enjoy Rosalie's no-nonsense, flat tone as she scolded him for his fleecing suggestions. Zoey enjoyed Rosalie's harsh tone for a different reason. This composed, powerful woman was writhing around my tongue, half an hour earlier.

She mostly spectated the interaction. They set off shortly, headed west.

Or 'west'. Who knew if the sun rose in the east, in this pocket-realm? To borrow a phrase, she wasn't in Kansas anymore.

The trip to the nearest city was uneventful. Monotonous. Having company, Rosalie wasn't a hundredth as willing to reciprocate in Zoey's flirting, and Zoey wasn't comfortable in asking odd questions: how the world worked, and et cetera. So it was painfully boring. It lasted around five hours. The man made mind-numbing small talk. It revealed a few interesting facts about life in the Fractures, but mostly Zoey focused on how her feet hurt. The stamina potions helped, even if she was embarrassed she was the only one to pull them out.

Triyhull, or the City Nested In The Trees, was a sprawling metropolis hanging between titanic towers of wood. It took six shifts—the standard verbiage for moving between realms—to reach from whatever irrelevant pocket they had been shunted into. Upon arriving, Zoey's breath was understandably stolen. Even Rosalie seemed vaguely appreciative, despite being more accustomed to the impressive sights of the Fractures.

Zoey was slightly less appreciative of the two-hundred-story climb from the forest-floor and up into the canopy, where Triyhull proper began.

Thank god for stamina potions. Was there any downsides to relying on the yellow potions so heavily? Rosalie hadn't said anything, and Zoey would have assumed she would. But maybe she was being nice by not pointing out Zoey's weakness. Rosalie was harsh in some ways, but she had a soft spot for Zoey. One of the few reasons Zoey kept hope kindled that her affection was reciprocated.

The press of alien life was more apparent in a big city. Rather than a single odd stone-man innkeeper, the sapient life of the Fractures swarmed around her as their guide led her and Rosalie to the nearest guildhall—the 'Last of the Forest'.

Men and women built from flickering flames drifted by, feet hovering off the ground, bodies red or blue or green, almost painful to look at from their brightness. Half-human, half-animals brushed against her in a hurry, fox-ears and dog-tails and antlers so seamlessly integrated in their appearance, but no less alien for the fact. Zoey tried to not stare. The two races were just some of many. The peoples of the Fractures were varied as the pocket realms that comprised it, she discovered.

And nobody paid attention to the stream of strange lifeforms, so Zoey needed to do the same. She would rather Rosalie didn't become suspicious of her. Zoey hadn't told many lies in regard to her past, but the few she had, she'd rather keep under lock and key.

The guide parted without much fanfare. Coins passed Rosalie's hands and into his, and then they were alone, standing outside the Last of the Forest's guildhall.

"It's quite the sight," Zoey offered.

"It's something," Rosalie returned idly. "We've a long day ahead of us. To the artificer district, then."

Going about the identification of their less-than-appropriate items was, to put it lightly, awkward. Because how were they supposed to request their nipple rings, cock rings, butt plugs, and so on be analyzed by a highly skilled artificer? These people were, as a whole, men and women who had devoted their lives to the study of magical items. And for all Rosalie had suggested it possible, by Zoey's fumbling explanations, it didn't seem sex toys were something often produced by a shard.

Because. Uh. Obviously not, for all she'd convinced herself it might be plausible.

Zoey took the lead on the situation, though even she—somewhat experienced in sexual matters, and much less shameful than Rosalie—found difficulty in explaining the situation. She wouldn't say her face blazed as she talked to the hunched-over grandma (why did it have to be an old woman? Zoey might have preferred any other demographic, especially considering her raised eyebrows, and vaguely disapproving expression), but her cheeks were definitely colored as she explained the nature of their items.

"An artefact," Anja One-Eye said, "that inserts into the anus."

"Two people's, they come in pairs," Zoey mumbled, not a person to trip over her words, but Jesus, if there was ever a time. "Sounds like there's some kind of linking effect? You can look at them yourself." The box of growing-in-size butt plugs were set across the counter, Anja eying them with something between distaste (Rosalie had an ally there) and curiosity (Zoey had an ally, too).

"Just what kind of shard did you wander into, dear?" Anja asked.

Rosalie snorted, and Zoey cleared her throat. She'd been much more amused when their bizarre circumstances had been a shared hilarity between her and Rosalie only. The titillating nature of the shard was much less funny in face of a disapproving, hunched-over, leather-skinned grandma. "An odd one," Zoey said. "Do you think you can have them identified, or not?"

"Don't get snippy, now," Anja scolded. "It's an odd collection to take in. I'm not intending to make you uncomfortable."

"Great," Zoey said. "Can you, or can't you?" She was only human. Her polite nature extended only so far, and after explaining her suspected use of several sex toys to a blissfully unaware, painfully vanilla seventy-year-old-woman, her patience had frayed. Or maybe her embarrassment. Rosalie's snorts weren't helping.

"Sigils are sigils," Anja One-Eye said. "I don't see why I wouldn't. Though perhaps seeking out a specialty identifier would be best."

"And you can provide directions to someone like that?"

"I could. But the rest of your haul, I would be happy to handle for you." Anja was, ultimately, a business-woman; her discomfort with handling Zoey and Rosalie's less-common portion of equipment wasn't overshadowed by her desire to secure a profitable arrangement.

"Perfect," Zoey said, not caring about the economics behind the whole fiasco, and wanting to be over with this. "We'll do that."

Finally, Rosalie stepped in. "Twelve copper for every sigil identification, expedited. Two silver for connecting us to a specialist. We'll discuss sales in the morning."

The offer must have been generous, because Anja accepted immediately. Though, ever the business-woman, she didn't show her satisfaction, and grumbled instead. "I can make that work. Tomorrow morning? How early?"

"When do you open?"

"First bell."

"We'll be there."

Anja nodded. "I would help you with the rest, but …"

"It's odd, we realize. A specialist is fine."

"Fe is an odd woman. But competent. She'll sort you out without problem."

"That's all we ask. She'll take expedited orders?"

"As far as I know. You'll want to get there as soon as possible. She closes early."

Rosalie nodded. "Then let's finish this, and have you pass us directions."

Chapter 21

Chapter Text

Fe Dullette was an odd woman, as perhaps expected of the suggested connection for identifying sex toys spat out of a lewd pocket dimension.

She was also painfully attractive, and dressed in a way to emphasize it. That she had horns curling from her head, and a short, puffy-white tail sprouting from her tailbone? Well, Zoey was quickly accustoming herself to the fact not all people here were human, and Fe's plush, sheep-girl appearance definitely did something for her.

Not that Zoey allowed herself to harden at her curvy, meek appearance. Because, as she'd already stated, an erection would be literally impossible to ignore, considering Zoey's generous bestowal. Fe's figure wasn't so impressive as to counteract the insanely embarrassing predicament she'd be in if she raised mast. Though still impressive. The sheep-girl had hips with their own gravitational well.

Zoey's explanation to Fe was much less awkward than with Anja One-Eye, which she was exceedingly grateful for. She didn't need to explain what the rounded silver objects were beyond the words 'butt-plugs', or why jewelry that attached to erotic zones would be appealing to certain people. She was, while perhaps not promiscuous, at a minimum knowledgeable. She knew her way around Zoey's (in what had been her opinion, until Anja) mostly vanilla sex-related items. Anja's opinion on who to go to had been well-formed.

In fact, Fe seemed outright intrigued by their haul, not simply 'not uncomfortable'.

"And where was the entrance to this shard?" Fe asked, shooting apologetic glances between them. "If you don't mind me asking, of course."

Zoey looked at Rosalie. Obviously Zoey couldn't answer that question. Her arrival to the shard had been under once-in-a-lifetime circumstances. Rosalie had been the one to enter it naturally.

"The Verdant Sanctum," Rosalie said. "You'll forgive me if I'm not more specific than that."

Fe bobbed her head. "Of course. Such a valuable find, you'll want to visit it again, I'm sure. It was only curiosity—everything you say is confidential. I'm a professional."

Revisit? That was something they could do? Zoey wouldn't mind stopping by to see Mel again.

"Once was more than enough," Rosalie said dryly.

"But with such strange items … I can see these selling exceptionally well. Even I would—" the sheep-girl coughed. "That is, buyers won't be difficult to find. The market might be niche, but the supply is lower than the demand."

"You've seen items like this?"

"Here and there," Fe said. "They're quite uncommon."

So their assumption had been right. Rare, but not unheard of.

"But you can identify them?" Rosalie asked. "By tomorrow morning? We'll pay for the rush. We want to be on our way."

"Of course. I'd be happy to, with items as interesting as these. I'll get right on it."

"Then we won't hold you."

Rosalie and Zoey left the store, and Zoey glanced back, seeing the sheep-girl flip the glass storefront's 'open' sign to 'closed', then the blinds flicker down.

Zoey wondered how such items were 'identified'. What, exactly, would the busty sheep-girl be doing?

The next stop was the shopping district. They chose their destination at random, one of the hundred buildings crammed shoulder-to-shoulder and teeming with patronage. Treyhull was one of the most populous cities in the Fractures; one of the primary congregating points for Wayfarers, and so there was no lack of either customers or stores. Though as Rosalie had said, many of these people weren't Wayfarers, but civilians who had ventured from Haven to provide their services at a more lucrative rate, exchanging their day-to-day safety for a higher salary.

Perhaps not a significant amount of safety was traded away, though. Not in a place like Treyhull. Guards were posted everywhere, green-and-blue uniforms sharp, and adorned with silver badges. Their eyes were pointed to the sky, scanning with vigilance. Zoey could infer threats didn't come from the forest floor, often—though they'd built the city in the treetops because it was far from safe there—but rather from above. Some manner of winged beasts? She had yet to see anything.

The shop they entered was smaller than most, and only a few people wandered around inside, browsing. Most were humans and the half-animal, half-human creatures she'd seen so many variations of. Shops divided themselves based on their typical patronage, which was reasonable. What would fit on a human would have difficulty fitting on those hulking rock-creatures, and no individual store could supply clothing for all races. These weren't huge department buildings, like back on Earth

She looked through the wares, collecting shirts, pants, and undergarments to try on. A young black-haired woman helped Zoey with finding a bra that fit. Her eyes flicked to Zoey's lower body more times than could be called subtle during the process, giving Zoey the first confirmation that the unnatural addition down there wasn't something that could be hidden, even with boxer-briefs and baggy pants. Oh well. She guessed she'd have to get used to the odd looks. By the slight flush on the woman's cheeks as she went about assisting Zoey, it wasn't a disgusted look. Rather, an intrigued one.

The same woman helped Zoey carry the clothes to a dressing room. She wrote something down on a notebook as Zoey walked in, probably keeping track what she'd brought with her. Zoey's mind wandered to her earlier thoughts about how theft and inventories worked. How did they prevent it? Close observation? Some manner of alert system? She'd ask Rosalie later; it wasn't like she planned to steal, anyway.

Inside the stall, Zoey went about trying the various items on. She started with the undergarments—the underwear, specifically. She was trying to find something a good mix between securing and not uncomfortable, which was a hard line to toe. If she wanted to receive less looks, she'd need to wear something that glued her package in nice and firm, but Zoey didn't like the feel of that. Too loose, though, and just walking around would make her situation apparent to anybody nearby.

A knocking at the door interrupted Zoey's efforts. She glanced at the wood, then said, "Occupied?"

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am." It was the same woman who had been helping her earlier. Her voice was timid, and—a bit breathless? "It looked like you might need help. Can I, um, come in?"

While Zoey wasn't an expert on this world's customs, she didn't think store attendants were supposed to ask to enter their client's dressing room. A grin crept onto her lips as she guessed what was happening. "I'm barely dressed," Zoey said. "Is that fine?"

The door handle clicked open, and the attendant slipped in. Her cheek were already flushed, and she glanced behind nervously, as if she couldn't believe what she was doing. Then back forward, to Zoey.

And her state of undress. Zoey was wearing only her underwear; the woman took in her mostly-naked form and breathed in surprise. Her eyes lingered on Zoey's tits, then stomach, then lower—to the main surprise, the reason Zoey suspected she'd come in.

The pair of men's underwear she had on was … well, one of the tight-fitting ones. Too much so. It secured her equipment in place, but created a defined outline that left nothing to the imagination.

The attendant sucked in another breath of air, louder this time, more disbelieving—and more admiring.

Zoey started to harden, and the woman's eyes widened in pace with it. Not remotely able to stay in the underwear itself, it slid down her leg as it filled out, then peeked through the leg exit—and kept going. It grew down to her knee before it had finished. The attendant stared.

"It's hard to find something that fits," Zoey said cheekily.

"I—I bet. I thought it looked like you had …" she trailed off, then her eyes flicked up, to meet Zoey's. She smiled, cheeks now a deep red, the flush crawling down her neck, too. "Well. I'm sure I could offer some professional advice. Before I make suggestions, can I get a full idea of what I'm in for?"

"You sure you're ready for that?"

"Not remotely. But I'd like to, anyway."

Zoey's thumbs hooked at the band of her underwear, and slid them down. Her cock, no longer secured in place, bounced up, filling the space between them.

The woman—Zoey caught a glimpse of a nametag, 'Callie'—stared, taking a few seconds to find a response. "It's—how is it … ? It's so big."

"She's a bit unwieldy," Zoey agreed.

"I don't mean to be insensitive, but … how, when it doesn't look like you're …?"

"Magical mishap," Zoey said. "It's actually pretty new. Haven't broken her in yet."

Callie laughed, half from her lingering shock, and half from Zoey's silly phrasing. "I would love to help you, but I'm not sure I could."

"It'll fit, if that's what you mean. Had to get some special lubricant commissioned." The false explanation slipped from her lips naturally. Couldn't really explain it was her skill doing it.

"It must be really special."

"It is. Can I pull it out?"

"I suppose I can make an exception to store policy," Callie breathed. "But really … it's so big. Can I touch it?"

"Be my guest," Zoey grinned, pulling out a bottle of lubricant from her inventory. Really, the whole pocket-space thing was so convenient. Never caught unprepared.

The lube obviously wasn't what would make Zoey fit. It was the newest of her runes that would allow her cock to squeeze into tight spaces that wouldn't normally accommodate her. To her partner's amplified pleasure, hopefully. Callie would be the first who got to test it out, at least for her lower holes. Rosalie had made it clear it worked for her throat.

Zoey sighed as the attendant's cool hands wrapped around her cock. I can't believe this is happening. A total stranger.

"It's so hot …" Callie murmured, pulling back and forth, stretching Zoey's cock skin and sending a shiver of pleasure up her stomach. "Are you sure it'll fit?"

Zoey poured out a string of lubricant down her cock, which Callie immediately worked on spreading around. "Only one way to find out. I'll get you ready?"

"I'm more than ready," Callie breathed. "And I need to get back to work. I can't be gone for long. It's not that slow of a day." She turned around and bunched up her long black skirt, bundling it above her waist and revealing lacy red underwear. Zoey hooked her thumbs around them and shimmied them to her thighs, taking the implicit permission. "I saw your bulge, and thought surely not … and then that I had to see what it was like."

"I hope it meets expectations," Zoey said, gripping her slippery cock and lining it up to Callie's entrance. She rubbed it up and down, sliding between folds. Callie was right—she was ready, and didn't need Zoey's fingers or tongue in preparation.

"I really doubt it won't."

Zoey paused, remembering something. "Shit. I don't have a condom." As a girl, that'd never been something she needed to worry about.

"I have a potion at home. It's fine, please. I want to feel it."

Good to know those existed. Magical Plan-B's. Assuming she could even get girls pregnant. "When I come, I, uh, produce a lot more than usual."

"That sounds amazing," she breathed.

"I mean, for clean-up."

Callie paused. "Well, look at you, Miss Considerate." She grinded herself against Zoey. "But please. Fuck me. I don't care."

Whatever. Zoey'd done her civic duty by bringing it up.

She guided herself in, feeling Callie spread, and savoring the hot, wet pressure that wrapped around her cock. Callie breathed, sharply, as she spread wider and wider, taking Zoey's unnatural girth. For a second Zoey was worried even with her skill, she wouldn't fit. But she got the first two inches in, past her cock head—and so her full width—and Callie didn't grab out or cry in pain. She did seem to lock still, knees bent inward, as she grappled with undoubtedly the largest cock she'd ever taken, but she handled it.

By the groan that escaped her lips, more than handled it. Quite enjoyed the experience.

Zoey's hand left her cock, moving to grip Callie's waist. She got some lube on the woman's nice blouse, fingers wet from her cock, but she didn't think Callie would care. She was already breaking more than a few policies by doing this, so a slightly dirtied uniform was the least of her worries.

She pulled Callie toward her slowly, filling her up inch-by-inch. Zoey desperately wanted to thrust with abandon, but like usual, having such an unwieldy weapon came with downsides; she needed to take things easy if she wanted her partners to have fun. Which she very much did. The best part of sex was the noises she could draw out of other people—her own pleasure was only a close second.

"How—how is there still more?"

"Halfway," Zoey grunted.

"Half? I can feel it in my stomach!"

Zoey's cock pulsed at the lewd words. She kept pushing forward, and Callie started to wiggle in some mixture of discomfort and pleasure. She didn't tell her to stop, so Zoey kept going.

Her hips finally met Callie's ass.

"I can't even describe it," Callie whined. "I'm so full. Like my entire body's wrapped around you."

Zoey pulled back a few inches, then pumped forward, slapping flesh against flesh. Callie gasped.

"Does it hurt?" Zoey asked. She could feel her cocktip bumping the end of Callie's insides. It made sense Mel liked cervix stimulation, but—not that Zoey was an expert on deep penetration, seeing how she'd always preferred women—from what she'd talked about with her friends, it was very hit or miss.

"Amazing," Callie groaned. "Harder. And faster. What are you waiting for?"

Zoey'd gotten lucky twice in a row, then. Maybe her skills helped her along. Either way, she did as instructed. Having spread Callie out and gotten her accustomed to her impressive length, Zoey could start the real fun.

She gripped Callie's waist and started pumping.

Loud slaps of skin echoed through the tiny room, and Zoey briefly wondered whether they needed to be quieter. But she'd already tried to be considerate several times, and Callie had brushed her off each time. Either she'd planned for it, or she didn't care if she were fired. Zoey buried herself into the woman's squeezing pussy and didn't particularly care which it was.

Zoey shuffle-stepped over to the bench, then sat and pulled Callie down on top of her. She squealed as Zoey's cock pressed into her from a new position, filling her up from a different angle. Zoey gripped Callie's chin and forced her head to turn toward her, then captured Callie's mouth. She forced her tongue in and explored, Callie reciprocating with eagerness, every thrust of Zoey's lower half drawing out pitiful moans and whines that ended up breathed into Zoey's own mouth.

She wrapped her hands around Callie's stomach and picked up speed. One hand dipped to between Callie's legs to rub at her clit.

For some inexplicable reason, Callie's fully dressed attire made the situation more erotic. A hand quested up and squeezed at her chest over her clothes. Then, Zoey untucked the blouse, and wiggled her arm in and pulled down her bra. She pistoned away inside Callie's breeding hole as she pinched a nipple and rubbed tight circles on her clit, most of her clothes pushed aside to provide access to her erotic spots.

"F-Fuck, it's so much, so big, I, I—"

Zoey could tell a building orgasm when she heard one. "Are you going to cum? For me? Will you milk me with your tight, squeezing little pussy?"

Callie shivered. "If that's what you want."

Zoey gripped harder around her stomach and jackhammered. "Then do it. Cum. You want to feel it, don't you? What it feels like to get filled up by a girl with a cock? To feel a girl's hot, sticky load? That's why you followed me, wasn't it?"

Callie started to shake. "Y-Yes. I want to k-know. Please. Give it to me."

"Then earn it. Use your clenching fuck hole and milk it out. I won't give it to you until you do."

Callie's orgasm washed over her, pussy spasming against Zoey's cock. Like promised, Zoey delivered. She'd been holding off desperately, and finally having her throbbing girlcock pressed in by spasming walls pulled hot strings of gooey white from her length. Zoey emptied herself into the stranger—the woman she had met a few minutes prior—filling her with the seed she so desperately wanted. Zoey's thrusting lost friction as her cock was covered with her own cum, coating the pretty girl's begging insides. It spilled from out of her pussy and onto Zoey's lap, stretching between their lower halves with every thrust, like they'd been covered in glue.

Slaps and moans echoed in the small room, growing slower as they climbed down from the crescendo.

Spent, Zoey's head thunked into the back wall of the dressing room, and the two of their synchronized orgasm's concluded. She panted, dizzy, like usual after expending herself, and Callie did the same, collapsed against Zoey's body. Zoey's cock stayed happily in her insides, pulsing irrhythmically and pushing another spurt of white every few seconds, which dripped between them.

"You weren't kidding," Callie said, exhausted, head leaned against Zoey's. She placed a hand against her stomach. "There's so much. I can feel it stuffing inside me. The potion might not even work."

Which might have been hot to Zoey a few seconds ago, the idea of impregnating a stranger, but not when she'd already emptied herself. She leaned up in concern, but Callie laughed.

"Kidding, kidding. I'm not looking to be a mom."

Well, now she'd put a paranoia inside Zoey, even if the words sounded entirely genuine, that she was kidding. Zoey huffed, then leaned back, forcing the worry away. But she really ought to start using condoms, however amazing it felt to empty herself inside.

Callie leaned forward and pulled Zoey's softening cock out. Her cum spilled onto the floor, dripping down her thighs and onto her socks, her glossy black business shoes. She'd accumulated a significant puddle down on the floor, too.

"I should've listened to you," Callie said, pursing her lips.

Zoey's mess was a terrible inconvenience, even when she hadn't been in society, where cleanliness standards were higher. But seeing how she felt every searing ejection of that white liquid—and it was likely one of the reasons her orgasms lasted so long—well, Zoey wasn't that fussed.

Though they were in a predicament, now.

Zoey leaned up from the wooden bench and took in the ruined dressing room. The girlcum coating the bench, floor, and Callie's pulled-down underwear, down her thighs, drenching her long dark socks a shade blacker.

"Definitely getting fired," Callie confirmed with a cute nod, putting her hands on her hips. She kicked off her shoes, then started wrangling her skirt off. "Wanna go a few more times to make it worth it?"

"You read my mind," Zoey said.

Chapter 22

Chapter Text

"Are you completely incapable of controlling yourself?" Rosalie hissed. "The dressing room! And so loud! Everyone heard you!"

"It was mostly her," Zoey said defensively. "I was trying to be quiet."

"Quiet! Were you? I could hear the slapping from across the store. Do you have any idea how mortifying that was?"

"Why would you be embarrassed?" Zoey's face was burning crimson. Lost in the moment, she'd been more than willing to break the litany of social norms she had, pounding herself into the cute store attendant. Now, faced with Rosalie's scathing condemnation, and having been escorted out by an uncomfortable-looking guardsman, the reality of what she'd done had hit her.

And she hadn't even gotten to buy the clothes she'd picked out.

"Why would I be embarrassed? Are you serious? I came in with you, you blithering idiot!"

Rosalie was actually pretty mad. Zoey supposed she had every right to be. "I—yeah, I'm sorry. She just, came in and," Zoey gesticulated with her hands. "It all happened so fast."

"I took care of you this morning. Was that not enough? How many times a day do you need to be satisfied?"

Zoey coughed. As many times as cute girls throw themselves at me? The upper bound number would only upset Rosalie, so she didn't share it.

But still. She shouldn't have done it in the dressing room. That had been inappropriate. And she'd embarrassed Rosalie. Zoey could embarrass herself as much as she wanted, but her association with Rosalie had been inconsiderate.

"I'm sorry. I really am. If I can make it up to you, just let me know."

Rosalie's eyes widened in outrage, and Zoey stuttered to clarify.

"Not like that! I'm not being gross. I'm sorry I put you in that situation. Really. If I can make it up, tell me how."

The words placated her, but she still wasn't pleased. She shook her head and stalked away. "Make it up to me by not sticking your dick in the next halfway-willing girl you find. At least when we're together. We're on a schedule if you've forgotten—or I am, since you clearly aren't—and you wasted an hour of our time, dealing with that."

"Right," Zoey said. "I won't." Callie had wrung her well and dry, anyway. She had made sure losing her job had been worth it; she'd used Zoey until both their legs were shaking.

So Zoey would be good for, hm, about an hour, considering this insatiable thing between her legs. It's not entirely my fault, okay?

The next clothing store was less eventful. Zoey made the first additions to her burgeoning wardrobe. She went with the looser men's underwear. It turned out—as demonstrated by Callie—that there were benefits to the odd looks Zoey received when her situation was on subtle display.

What was a bit of embarrassment, when it meant eager girls like Callie could discover her secret, and take interest?

Afterward, she and Rosalie headed to an alchemist recommended by Fe. The artificers of Treyhull were a tight knit group, as was perhaps expected. And since Zoey was considering commissioning some potions from the reagents she'd acquired, she wanted someone who was prepared for their odd nature. Fe had assured her that Sabina was the go-to for the odd and bizarre. The alchemist was a woman who loved, above all else, inventions and exploration; a trait that had allegedly left her in quite a poor fiscal situation, despite her talents at potion-making.

Which was a fact that confirmed itself on arrival. Sabina's store was in ragged condition. The glass panes out front were foggy from not being cleaned. The sign above the doorway could use a paint-over. Overall, not the greatest first impression.

And it was closed.

"Crap," Zoey said. "Do we go in anyway?"

"Might as well."

The door was unlocked, at least. A bell rang as they entered.

Sabina—or so Zoey guessed—was at the far end of the store, in the back-left, hunched over a bubbling glass vat. She wore white robes not dissimilar from lab-dress back home on Earth, and also goggles, white gloves, and her hair was tied back in a bun. She glanced their way for a second, said nothing, then looked back forward.

"Are you, uh, open?" Zoey asked.

"The sign says I am, does it not?" the cool reply came.

"No, actually. It's flipped to closed."

Sabina's hands stilled from her stirring. "Oh. Be a dear, then."

Zoey changed the sign to 'open'. Sabina didn't sound bothered she'd missed half a day's worth of customers.

"I was wondering why it was so peaceful," Sabina said. "I was managing to get some work done."

"Sorry to interrupt that," Zoey joked.

"Mmm," Sabina said. "I suppose it can't be helped. I accept your apology."

Zoey paused. Had that been dry humor, or had she taken Zoey seriously? Fe had said the woman was odd. "I, uh. Fe gave us directions to you."

"What for?" The curt reply didn't seem harsh by intention. Zoey was getting the feeling this wasn't a woman whose social graces were her redeeming feature. "Business, I assume," Sabina continued. "Get to it."

"I like her," Rosalie murmured.

Of course you do.

They approached, and Zoey took in the woman in greater detail.

Sabina was a willow-tall, stick-thin woman. She had several inches even on Zoey, which meant Sabina was exceptionally tall even by men's standards. She would tower in a crowd, sticking out like a reed.

She looked a bit like a gazelle. And no, Zoey wasn't saying that because of the antlers. Though they did tie the image together.

She had a severe facial structure: sharp cheekbones, a permanent frown, and eyes that were cold, gray, and serious. Zoey was taken apart and deconstructed in the woman's gaze, then reassembled, having been understood for her composite parts.

To put it in a phrase, she was intimidating as hell.

And fucking hot. Zoey'd always had a thing for stern women. She looked to be in her mid twenties. Older than Zoey, but not by too much. Just enough for her to register as, 'hot older woman'. Christ. Please, step on me, Mistress Alchemist. Can I grab anything for you?

"We've got some odd reagents," Zoey said. "Fe told us you were the person to go to have them identified, and commissioned with."

That caught Sabina's attention. Fe's description continued to be spot on; the woman valued novelty, and research, so 'odd reagents' was the same phrase as 'early Christmas' to her. Sabina glanced down at the boiling liquid—brown-red, with specks of black floating around—then adjusted some dials, stripped off her gloves, and walked over. "Lay them out." She gestured at the counter at the front of the store, where it looked like payment typically took place.

Zoey did so. She'd only received two of the strange reagents—ones that were plainly unique to the shard, and possibly valuable—and she was intensely interested in each. She checked the descriptions as she set them down.

[Coruscant Flameroot, Powdered: A fine, gritty substance useful in the preparation of potions that inflame or mute the senses.

[Blossom Blight: Red flower petals which serve as the primary catalyst for brewing potions that inhibit or amplify the potency of life-giving seed.

"May I?" Sabina asked.

"Go for it."

She opened the first of the bags, the flameroot, and used a thin metal tool to extract a sample of the fine powder. She held it up at eye level and inspected the reagent, turning her head side to side. A frown tugged on her lips.

"Curious," she said, lowering the tool back to the pouch and pouring the powder back in, then deftly tying the strings back closed. "I've never seen anything like it. How much do you want for it?"

"Oh," Zoey said. "It's not for sale. We were hoping you could make something for us."

"Perhaps," Sabina said. "I would need to consult the Association. While I've never handled," she glanced sideways at the pouch, "this 'coruscant flameroot', that doesn't mean there's no information available. But turning a rare ingredient into a functional potion is a complicated process. It varies for each alchemist. No two paths are the same. Even if others have succeeded, my own is no guarantee."

"Or the other way around."

"Indeed," she said without arrogance.

No two paths are the same. Rosalie had said something like that, before, though not quite in the same context. "But you'd be willing to try?"

"More than willing," Sabina said. "Working with strange reagents … truth told, I'd pay you for the opportunity. Let's meet in the middle. Consider it free of charge."

Zoey could see why Sabina was having financial difficulties, despite having a solid reputation for competency. "No, that's fine, we'll pay. Because, uh, I have something else to ask, in exchange for us not shopping around."

"I'm listening."

"I'm looking for someone to show me the ropes. Not an apprenticeship or anything, but kind of—acquaint me? Give me the big picture."

Sabina shot her a curious look; she'd been inspecting the two ingredients on the counter. "You have a Rune of Alchemy?"

"I do. I haven't ever used it."

Sabina raised her eyebrows. "And why not?"

"I don't know. I have … severe memory loss, and can't remember much of anything. But it's first advancement, and I don't know anything about alchemy. I'd like to learn."

"How curious." She shrugged. "But I've no time to be playing as a teacher. My work needs me. Try someone else."

"I'd be willing to make this a recurring relationship," Zoey said, nodding at the pouches, wanting to push the point; she didn't know why, but she wanted Sabina as her teacher. Who am I kidding? I know why. Look at those legs. Probably not how she should be making her decision. But there were practical ones too: she was competent, and they had something to bribe her with. "Any odd reagents, we'll bring to you. And I won't be in your hair much. Wayfaring's taking the front seat."

"Hardly a binary," Sabina said. "There's plenty of alchemists who adventure."

"There are?"

"Perhaps to less success, since their paths adjust to minimal equipment and field conditions, but yes."

"Oh," Zoey said. "Well, either way. It seems like it could be a mutually beneficial arrangement. And if it doesn't work out, you can drop me."

Sabina scrutinized her, a long middle-finger tapping against the counter. "I suppose we could test the waters," Sabina said. "But I'm no instructor. My guidance will be poor. You would be better served finding someone competent in training others." She shrugged, as if she didn't care if Zoey made a poor decision—she was just informing her it would be one. "And I'll emphasize that if you fail to bring in interesting reagents from your adventures, this arrangement will no longer hold appeal."

Zoey didn't think that'd be happening. She and Rosalie had definitely not seen the last of strange shards, and stranger loot. "Perfect. Let's talk details?"

"As long as we make it quick," Sabina said, eying the ingredients on the counter. "I'd like to start experimenting."

The last, but far from least, destination of the day was back to where the guide had first dropped her and Rosalie off: the Last of the Forest's guildhall.

The architecture of Treyhull had been uniformly breathtaking, but the guildhall, more than most: it had the look of a structure that the city had been built around, that when this sprawling metropolis had first started to be draped around the titanic trees, the guildhall had been at its heart. The seed of the city.

Rosalie took the lead. Zoey trailed behind, admiring the insides of the building that went up, and up, and up—hundreds, or what felt like thousands of feet. The guildhall was carved into one of the enormous tree-trunks, and bridges spanned here and there as Zoey craned her neck up, creating a patchwork of brown strings that slowly occluded her sight to the top.

She bumped into someone, who eyed her in annoyance, waving away her apologies but clearly irritated.

"Shit," Zoey laughed to Rosalie. "I'm coming off as a tourist."

Rosalie, though she hadn't been to Treyhull, wasn't nearly as interested in taking in the sights. Strictly here for business. Who would've guessed? Rosalie really could benefit in taking a load off, in living life in the slow lane for once. Zoey'd try to coax that out of her, eventually.

The receptionist was a mousy woman with freckles. And she meant mousy in a literal sense, like usual; the half-human hybrids were more common than humans in Treyhull. She had big mouse ears on the top of her head, and a generally twitchy, but friendly, demeanor.

"Hi! Welcome to the Last of the Forest's guildhall. My name is Leia. How can I help you?"

"We'd like to register," Rosalie said. "Temporary. We're only passing through. Two weeks, I expect, but more or less is possible."

Zoey had asked Rosalie for clarification on how this would work—their 'setting up' in Treyhull. Before Zoey, Rosalie had gone to whatever city was nearest the shard she'd just exited. But since they were making connections, now—with need for consistent item identifiers and an alchemist teacher for Zoey—they'd take the longer trips back to this specific metropolis, rather than whatever was closest. The goal would be to adventure realms nearby to the one that hosted Treyhull, as to avoid being spat out far away. Still, they'd likely be shunted a fair distance each time; it would be a bit of a trip back.

"No problem," Leia said cheerfully, drawing out two forms from underneath her desk. "I'll get you squared away in no time."

Rosalie waited patiently.

"Name?"

"Rosalie Soliz."

Huh—Zoey had never gotten Rosalie's surname.

"Role?"

"Lancer."

"Advancement?"

"Second."

The questions continued, Rosalie answering instantly, the mouse-girl writing as fast as she could. Finally, Leia's attention turned to Zoey, pulling over the second paper. "Name?"

"Zoey Vickery," Rosalie answered for her.

Leia blinked, and so did Zoey. Leia wavered between looking at Zoey and Rosalie. Zoey gestured to Rosalie, so she committed to her.

"Role?"

"Aegis."

"Advancement?"

"First."

And so on.

When they'd been passed two badges—Rosalie's was purple, with a 'II' written on it, and Zoey's yellow, with a 'I'—Zoey said, "You gave fake names."

"Of course I did."

"I get for you, but why me?"

"Why not? It's only good practice."

Zoey gave her an odd look, but accepted the explanation. "I never learned what 'lancer' meant. And mine, 'aegis'."

"There's seven," Rosalie said. "Guardian, striker, and booster are the purist roles. Defense, attack, support."

"And the four others are mixed," Zoey guessed.

"Lancer is attack and defense. Aegis, attack and support. Pillar, support and defense. And finally, verse, which is all three—or classes that fall outside the paradigm."

When Zoey had first been whisked off through worlds, Ephy had used the word 'class', and she'd heard it from Rosalie a few times, too. Zoey was a 'Bonder'. "What are classes?" Zoey was growing less uncomfortable with asking odd questions. She had to, honestly. Couldn't stay in the dark forever. And Rosalie never seemed to mind, even if she gave Zoey perplexed looks.

"They describe your runes, and the specific path they're following."

"So why not use class names, instead of this?"

Rosalie scoffed. "And memorize the hundreds, or thousands, that exist? Roles are simpler. If a party wants to get granular in finding an ideal composition, they may—but for most, roles serve fine to put together a functional group."

That made sense. "And what's your class, then?"

Rosalie stopped walking, and Zoey stumbled a step. Rosalie stared at her, brow furrowed, as if trying to come to a decision.

Zoey blinked. "You don't have to tell me. I was just curious."

"I … shouldn't," Rosalie finally said. "It's a personal question. I'd rather not."

Even if Zoey had said it was fine she didn't, Zoey felt the tiniest bit stung she hadn't been trusted with the information. She couldn't possibly think Zoey would tell someone else, could she? Or was it because her class would reveal something? But what?

She was sure Rosalie had her reasons.

They continued forward.

"Where are we headed?" Zoey asked.

"To the LFG board," Rosalie said. "Lancer and aegis, as a duo? No. If we're forming a party, we'll do it right."

Chapter 23

Chapter Text

"That's, uh," Zoey said. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Your class, you mean."

"Yeah. My class."

"Don't tell me you're uncomfortable with the idea of 'bonding' another girl." Seeing Rosalie, so typically stoic, air-quote and sneer the phrase was a bit funny. "You've fucked—how many girls in the past twenty four hours? Me, the slime creature, the attendant, and I saw you eying both Fe and Sabina. You aren't remotely subtle. I'm surprised Anja was safe. This is where you draw the line?"

"No," Zoey said, ignoring Rosalie's accusations, "I meant, are we even sure I can bond to more than one person? Or would it break yours?"

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?"

"I guess. I'm just—" she cut herself off.

"Say it."

"Never mind."

"Say it, Zoey."

Zoey waved her hand, starting to blush. "It's nothing."

Rosalie stopped walking and crossed her arms. "If we're going to be party-members, you will voice your opinion on team decisions."

"I was looking forward to it just being us, okay?" Zoey flushed. "I thought we were going to, you know. Have some time together. Just us. For a bit longer."

Whatever Rosalie had expected, it hadn't been that. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, which was a distinctly not-Rosalie reaction.

"Like I said, it was stupid."

"This—this isn't a vacation, Zoey."

"I know."

"A functional party fills every role. We'll get more done. And it'll diffuse your lack of experience."

"It makes sense. I know."

Rosalie opened her mouth a few times, as if to push the point, but Zoey had agreed with everything.

She huffed and turned back forward.

"We'll … we'll have 'us' time between shards," Rosalie mumbled, almost quiet enough Zoey couldn't hear.

"What?"

Rosalie stalked forward. "We'll be looking for a guardian, striker, or another lancer. At this advancement, even a half-role support is enough—so you have that filled. I can fill either offense or defense, so I want a teammate specialized in one or the other. I'll lean heavier into whatever they don't."

"Is that the standard strategy?"

"There is no standard strategy. Team composition isn't a solved science. Opinions vary. I told you mine."

"Well, yours is the best out there, I'm assuming."

"Mmm," Rosalie said, not outright agreeing, but both of them knowing it was true. "Still. It might take some searching to find a good fit."

"Just one more? So three of us?"

"For now."

"How big do parties get?"

"Five is ideal."

"For all advancements? Now, or later on?"

"All advancements. But it's a question with a lot of variability. I'm already generalizing. I was doing fine solo. Some classes can. Some classes—boosters, the obvious one—can't. Five members provides a balance between sharing loot and tackling shards smaller parties can't."

"So why are we going with three?"

"Because five is a headache," Rosalie said flatly. "Even two is a headache, so far."

"Hey."

"Are you denying it?"

Zoey had been an annoyance for Rosalie, all things considered. "It's still not very nice."

"I'm not very nice."

"Bullshit," Zoey said. "You're a sweetheart."

"And you have an addled brain, if you think that."

"You've got a hard exterior, but gooey insides. You didn't have me fooled for a second."

Rosalie pointedly ignored her, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed how Zoey's words had worked.

They arrived at the LFG board.

Zoey's eyes scanned the hundreds of listings crammed on the expansive pinboard. The papers tacked in were short, functional, and informative. Standardized. Name, advancement, role, availability, and finally, a short description where they discussed what they were looking for, and any other relevant information.

Rosalie pulled out a notebook and started writing. "Girls only, right?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah." Zoey hesitated before her next words, knowing they were stupid. But she couldn't help herself. "This is weird. It feels like we're looking for someone to have a threesome with."

Rosalie went stiff. A disbelieving expression turned, slowly, to face her.

"Doesn't it?" Zoey asked.

"Unbelievable," Rosalie said.

Rosalie worked fast. She collected a smattering of potential candidates and got to work tracking them down. The guildhall receptionist helped point them in the right direction.

They barely got more than a few sentences into Rosalie's first interrogation before Rosalie was shaking her head and stalking away. Zoey shot an apologetic look to a bewildered flame-woman.

"What the hell was that?" Zoey asked, jogging to catch up.

"Inadequate."

"Why?"

"Second advancement in three months? No."

"That's bad?"

"It's average."

"... and average is bad."

"Average is horrendous."

"We can be that picky?"

"I'll resort to a duo before we settle for a dead-end."

Truth told, Zoey was feeling like the dead-end, right about now. She'd been pretty useless in the first shard, and without a chance to have practiced, she'd be useless going into the second. At least she had the 'identify weakness' skill from her second advancement on her Rune of Sensuality, so she could be marginally more helpful, but still. Her partner was quite clearly the creme de la crop, and Zoey was …

Zoey.

Promising only because she'd had an amazing class thrust onto her. Didn't feel great.

"Still. I don't think you should've been so rude."

"We're on a schedule. I'm not going to conduct a full interview when I know my answer."

"You could've told her why."

"That would have been rude. Better she think me odd, than for me to berate her for being average."

That was … actually a fair point. Rosalie was being considerate—in a roundabout way—by stalking away and not listing out a person's deficiencies. And not even deficiencies, but simply how they failed to meet Rosalie's excruciating expectations.

"Besides," Rosalie said, "I'm not sure having sex with a solar is something you want to be doing on the regular."

She tucked away the race name for the floating flame-people. "I mean," Zoey said. "I'll try anything once. Who knows? Maybe it'd be fun."

"They don't even have sex organs," Rosalie said. "And yes, they're as hot as they look." She shook her head and stalked forward. "But knowing you, you would enjoy it."

"Nothing a bit of burn cream couldn't fix," Zoey grinned.

The second, third, and fourth interviews—interrogations—went in a similar manner. It wasn't until the fifth that Rosalie's questions extended past opening pleasantries.

"And you?" the fox-woman—Delta—returned.

"Four weeks."

Delta whistled. "Damn, blondie. You had your nose to the grindstone. That's fast."

Zoey stayed quiet, absorbing the easy lie that had slipped from Rosalie's lips. She had told Zoey it had taken her two weeks to hit second advancement—or less, since two weeks was simply how long she'd been in the Fractures. And four was fast? Enough to draw out an impressed whistle from someone Rosalie herself saw as a potential teammate?

Her partner was more competent than she'd thought. Competent enough she needed to lie to avoid drawing attention. Well-known enough she gave fake names to guildhall receptionists.

Who was she, really?

Not that if she was some famous figure, Zoey would know the name. Alien world, and all.

"I set a quick pace," Rosalie said. "You would be expected to match it."

"Sure," Delta returned easily. "Not tryna toil in obscurity, forever. I'm taking it you're shooting for the big leagues?"

"I have no intention of living a safe and easy life."

Delta laughed. "Right. So, shards. What advancement? Third? How many you putting together?"

"Second will be fine," Rosalie said. "We're staying small. You'll be our third, and last."

"And who's this?"

"Zoey," Zoey offered. She'd been trailing behind Rosalie for the better part of an hour, and she'd prefer to regain some agency, because as things stood, it felt a bit like she was a lost child following meekly behind Rosalie. She'd said maybe a dozen words to their potentials. "It's nice to meet you."

They had found the fox-woman at the bar of the guildhall, working her way through a tankard of what Zoey assumed to be alcohol. She didn't seem drunk, or even flushed. She was leaned back on the chair far enough it was supported only on two legs, precariously balanced. Her fingers tapped the table as she took Zoey in.

The up-and-down of Zoey's body was slightly less than chaste. A grin split her lips. "Zoey. That's a cute name."

Was she being hit on? "Thanks. I like yours, too."

Delta opened her mouth to continue the dialogue, but Rosalie cleared her throat, pointedly dragging her attention back.

Zoey paid closer attention to the fox-woman's curves, the orange-and-white ears sprouting from her head. They were … well, they did something for Zoey. She was coming around on this whole, half-animal thing. It was pretty cute.

Delta was dressed not casually, but how Zoey assumed she'd be venturing into dungeons: in full leather armor, her bow set across the table. Why she didn't store the weapon in her inventory … Zoey couldn't say for sure. Advertising? She was 'looking for group'.

But the fact her curves showed through even a full set of (slightly mismatched) leather armor promised a body that Zoey would be greatly appreciative of.

"You're a striker," Rosalie said. "How strictly?"

"I hurt things. Not much else."

Rosalie nodded. "Good. I can fill defense. How much attention would you need?"

"None. I can run solo, need be."

Rosalie kept nodding. The answers were what she wanted to hear. "My partner's class is strange," Rosalie said. "You'll need to have an open mind."

Which gave Delta pause. "Excuse me?"

"The prerequisites for her supporting skills are odd. You may have to perform some … slightly uncomfortable actions to facilitate it."

Zoey winced. The clinical nature Rosalie described her Bond skill was bringing a heat to Zoey's face, though, how else were they supposed to handle the situation?

" … what?" came the reasonable response.

"What's the exact wording, again?" Rosalie asked Zoey. Zoey wasn't handling things much better. Pink tinted her cheeks.

Zoey saved her from having to go further. It was Zoey's cross to bear, so to say. And she could deal with the awkwardness better than Rosalie. Not without a blush, but still better.

"We'll have to be intimate," Zoey said. She didn't broach the whole, 'release seed onto or inside' part, because the exact wording was so much worse than being roundabout; it could be left implied.

Delta stared at her. "By intimate, you mean …"

"Sex," Zoey said. "Or not sex, but, uh. Intimacy. More than kissing." Okay, maybe she was just as awkward about this.

"Right," Delta said.

A long pause.

"Look," she finally said. "Why bullshit? If you wanted a threesome, the answer would've been yes, until you tried … whatever this is."

Rosalie started sputtering, but Zoey laughed. It broke the awkwardness. For her, at least. "I know it's odd. My class is … perverted. I can let you read my anima, if you don't believe me."

Delta's eyebrows shot up, and Rosalie immediately said, "No, that's not necessary."

Zoey might have underestimated how personal the offer was.

"You're serious?"

"No, she isn't," Rosalie said.

"Why is it such a big deal?" Zoey asked.

"What?" Delta asked. "Big deal? Are you—"

"She has memory problems," Rosalie said, glaring at Zoey. "She doesn't know what she's offering."

"It's fine." Zoey really didn't get why it was a whole 'thing'. So Delta would know her runes and skills. At first advancement on most of them, it barely gave away anything. Wouldn't she learn them just by being on a party with her?

"Memory problems?" Delta asked. "What the hell is going on, here?"

"You'll need to take our word for it," Rosalie said. "She's not sharing her anima."

"Why not?" Zoey asked.

"Take your word that she needs to fuck me? To use her skills?" Delta asked. "Are you insane?"

Zoey raised her palms up and said, "Both of you. Please. Be quiet." Things were getting too chaotic for her liking.

She turned to Rosalie first. "There's no avoiding it. Why would she believe us?"

"We'll simply move to the next, if she doesn't."

"It's my choice, isn't it?"

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?"

A frustrated expression appeared. "Because she can't be trusted."

"With what?"

"Your situation! How incautious can you be? Do you have any idea the circumstances you're in?"

"No, I don't. I would've figured you knew that."

Rosalie rubbed her forehead. "It's not … you can, it's just … I, personally, wouldn't."

"This is, hands down, the most bizarre team offer I've ever been given," Delta said. "But I'm starting to believe you. Maker. Zoey, you don't need to show me your anima. How intimate are we talking?"

Zoey blinked. What had convinced her? She supposed the shape of her and Rosalie's conversation didn't make sense as some kind of 'ruse to a threesome'.

"Uh," Zoey said. "Just a handjob, I guess."

"Sorry. Handjob?"

Zoey paused. She guessed the equipment down there wasn't immediately noticeable, not if someone wasn't looking for it. "Yeah. Handjob."

Delta absorbed the announcement. Her eyes flicked to Zoey's lower half, probably making out the protrusion in her pants. She must have passed over it on her first up-and-down.

"What the fuck," she eloquently said. "You have a cock?"

Rosalie was pinching the bridge of her nose. "How else did I expect this to go?"

"Yeah," Zoey said. "I get it if that's a deal breaker."

"But … why?"

"Why do I have a cock?"

"Are you a man?"

"It was given to me as part of my class," Zoey said. She prevented her nose from wrinkling at the question. She assumed fantasy-world wasn't quite up to date on modern-day perception of gender identities.

"Maker," she said for the third time. Zoey assumed it was more or less the equivalent of a 'Jesus' exclamation. A grin fell onto her lips. "Lucky bastard. You have your other equipment, too?"

Zoey snorted. Some of the tension broke. "Both, yeah. And lucky. I guess. It hasn't been all bad. Weird, but not bad."

"Blondie's right. Strange circumstances—the hell's going on with you?"

"I wish I knew."

"Memory problems?"

"Can't remember much. Rosalie's been helping me along."

"How'd you two meet?"

"I woke up in a shard. First advancement in everything. No memories."

"Shit," Delta said. "You two made it out, though."

"Rosalie's efforts."

"No joke. I can tell old blood when I see it. Could've carved through it herself, I bet."

Rosalie crossed her arms, though Zoey didn't know what the phrase 'old blood' meant. She could infer.

"Okay," Delta said. "Okay. Whatever. But you're taking me on a date, first."

"What?"

"You expect me to just bust out a handy, right here? Treat me with some respect. Sun's not down—a girl deserves a date before she pays out, don't you think?"

"I—I—"

She glanced at Rosalie, for some reason, who threw her hands in the air.

"Clearly you've taken the lead on this situation," she said scathingly. "So figure it out."

"Sure?" Zoey said. "A date? That sounds fun. Uh. Where?"

"Where does a girl like me deserve, in exchange for a handy?"

Well, that was a trap question if she'd ever heard one, and by Delta's grin, it had been intentionally so.

Damn. She was actually starting to like this girl.

"I'm broke," Zoey said, "and I don't think Rosalie will spot me. But wherever you want, if I can afford it."

"Right answer," Delta laughed. "Dinner's fine. We can get to know each other." She slammed down the last of her drink, then stood, slinging her bow over her shoulder. "Assuming I met your requirements, old blood?"

"Barely," Rosalie said tightly. "But yes."

Delta laughed. She patted Zoey's shoulder as she passed. "Come on, cock-girl. Let's go get something to eat."

Chapter 24

Chapter Text

Delta ate like a woman who didn't care an iota about what people thought of her, and while Zoey respected the impervious assuredness, her table manners were really something. And not in a good way. Her napkin was more red-sauce than napkin. She hadn't even cleaned it all from her mouth. Zoey would say she 'missed a spot', but that didn't quite do things justice.

"So," Delta said. "How am I supposed to get to know you, when you've forgotten everything?"

"Good question."

"Tell you what. Let's do some roleplaying. Make up answers that you think would fit."

"Uh," Zoey said.

Zoey had always been a person who handled herself well—it would be arrogant to say confident and charismatic, but a little bit, yeah, was how she viewed herself—but Delta's total irreverence surpassed even Zoey's; here was a woman who could walk into a royal banquet, toss her shoes off, collapse into the front seat, and whine about the food not being ready. Even if she hadn't been invited. Especially if she hadn't.

If Zoey condensed it down into a line—she didn't give a shit. About anything. Social-related, at least. She cared about her career. Driven, in the same way as Rosalie, but … different. If that made sense. There was a reason Rosalie had taken interest in her; a reason Delta had cleared the very high hurdles Rosalie had set.

"Okay, sure," Zoey said. "Ask away?" The date was, at least, not awkward. Zoey didn't think any event could be awkward for Delta. That implied caring enough about whether things were a disaster, and she definitely did not.

"What do you do in your free time?"

Zoey blinked. "Uh," she said, buying herself a second. She could make up answers here, but this one was actually straightforward, and not foggied by Ephy's carving-out of her memories. She didn't have to lie. "I guess, hang out. Shoot the shit. I was kind of useless growing up. Always failing classes, getting in trouble. I like being around people. Sometimes I wish I had real hobbies. Something impressive, like an instrument, or an art. Instead, I'm just good at talking to people. And is that a skill? Or hobby? Not really."

Delta nodded along. "Yeah, that fits. Cute."

'Fits'. She thought Zoey was making things up. Probably better that way. "You?" Zoey asked.

"Explore," Delta said. "Experience new things. I don't have hobbies. That implies doing the same thing, and that's the opposite of what I want. Anything fresh, that gets my heart pumping."

"Is that why you became a Wayfarer? For the experiences?"

"More or less," Delta said. "But also 'cuz it pays the bills. My dad broke his spine working his construction job, and medical bills aren't covering it. So it's up to me."

The nonchalant, sudden insertion of such a serious topic had Zoey scrambling for an answer. "Oh. That's—you're very—"

"Don't be weird about it," Delta said. "It's a sob story. Everyone has one. I don't like tip-toeing. We're getting to know each other."

And Zoey was. "Hopefully we can make a difference for him. Rosalie sets a fast pace."

"That's the goal." Delta shrugged. "Already planned to be a Wayfarer, but that set a fire under my ass."

"I bet." It felt like an inappropriate response. Too small.

"How'd you end up like this?" Delta asked. "Your situation, I mean."

For a second, Zoey forgot she was supposed to be inventing answers. 'Roleplaying'. So she almost said, 'No clue'.

Instead, after a second's hesitation, she said, "A perverted goddess tore me between dimensions and tasked me to save the world."

A grin split Delta's face, and she leaned forward, orange and white fox ears perking up interest. "Now that's what I'm talking about. How perverted we talking?"

"I mean, she gave me a cock. So. Pretty."

Delta laughed. "And what's your grand goal? Why does the world need saving?"

"Waiting to find out, I guess."

"Maybe the Fractures are decaying. Splitting at the seams, like the Doomsayers are always whining about, and when it's gone, Haven'll starve to death."

A chill ran down Zoey's spine. "Doomsayers?"

"You know? Those cultists." She frowned. "I guess Treyhull doesn't have many out in the open. Guards stamp 'em down. But it's all hot air, anyway." She shrugged. "Then again, who knows? Maybe the world is ending."

"Huh," Zoey only said. "Decaying, you said?"

"Yeah, you know." Delta paused. "I guess you don't. The Rot?"

"The Rot?"

"The shards that don't act like they should," Delta said.

It was incredible how fast Zoey's stomach was sinking to the ground. "What do you mean?"

"Shit, I dunno. It's all horseshit. Not real." Delta waved her hand, as if she didn't want to talk about it. Zoey didn't either. This was supposed to be a light-hearted outing, and Zoey had the feeling she'd stumbled on why Ephy had shunted her between worlds. "Next question. What's up with blondie?"

"Rosalie?"

"No, your other stick-up-her-ass teammate."

Zoey tensed. "Don't talk about her like that."

Delta blinked at her reaction, then a grin split her face. "Shit, you have the hots for her, don't you?"

"Yeah," Zoey said. "I do."

She blinked again at Zoey's honesty. Her smile quickly reasserted itself. "Totally see why. Don't think I'd ever be able to put up with all that, but I get it."

"Mmm," Zoey said.

"I'm stepping on toes," Delta said. "Perfect. We're hitting the good stuff. So, what's up with her?"

"You'll need to be more specific."

"Who is she? She radiates old blood."

"I don't know what that means."

"Right. She's—well, I'm guessing, at least—she's got family high-up. Real high up. That kind of passive authority doesn't come from nowhere. Officers in a highguild? Maybe that's too much. But her roots run deep, that much is obvious. Bet she's got family members sixth, seventh advancement, maybe higher. Grandmas and grandpas who were the same. Great-great grandmas. You know … old blood."

Zoey hesitated, but Delta didn't sound like she was guessing. "I was thinking that, too. Not that I know what 'officers' means, or how rare sixth and seventh advancement are."

"Pretty rare," Delta said. "Guess you're not someone to talk to about this. Man, what's that like? Having nothing bouncing around, in there?" She rapped on her own skull.

Zoey laughed. Maybe she should be offended, but Delta's complete lack of filter was enjoyable. "Upsetting. I remember my first girlfriend, but her face is scrubbed away. I don't know her name. My parents, too. I can't remember if I had sisters or brothers."

Delta sobered. Zoey hadn't meant to drag the mood down. She'd just been joining in on the no-filter thing. "Must be tough."

"A sob story," Zoey said. "Everyone's got one."

The grin split back. "Hell yeah. No reason to cry over it. Keep moving forward."

"What advancement do you think?" Delta asked. "To not die?"

The two of them leaned over the ledge of a thousand-foot drop. The forest floor was difficult to make out from this height. Treyhull's branching bridges, arching between the gargantuan trees that served as pillars to the sprawling city, were surprisingly unsafe for children; if Zoey leaned a bit further, she'd easily topple over. It'd be a long, contemplative fall before she hit the ground.

"How would I know? Could any?"

Delta snorted. "Eighth and above are practically gods. I don't think gods die from a long fall."

"They are?"

"Close enough. Least to us mortals. There's a reason so many people throw their lives away chasing advancement."

"How many are there?"

"Advancements?"

"Yeah."

"Ten," Delta said. "Allegedly."

"Allegedly?"

"Who fucking knows? How things work at that level? Even Enzo d'Celestin is only ninth. And that man could carve up a city by himself."

She tucked the name away. Zoey was learning the lore of this world piece-meal. "How's advancement work?" Zoey asked. "If we have three runes, then—"

"Excuse me?"

Zoey blinked. Delta was staring at her.

"What?"

"Three?"

"Or five, I guess?" Zoey asked, confused. "Does 'generalist' and a crafting rune count?"

Zoey could tell she'd said something wrong. Delta wasn't an easy woman to turn speechless.

"You have three combat runes," Delta said. "And a crafting, too?"

"Uh," Zoey said.

"Maker. You really were chosen by a goddess and sent to save us. Three?"

"That's rare?"

"Two is rare," Delta said. "Three is heaven-blessed. And a crafting rune. I've never heard of it. I see why blondie didn't want you sharing your anima."

"Oh," Zoey said.

"I'd ask what they are, but you're too clueless to realize that's not the kind of thing you should share." She shook her head. "You should listen to stick-up-her-ass more. You'll land yourself in hot water, blabbing like you are."

"Good thing I can trust you."

"Yeah," Delta said. "Good thing. Stop being an idiot. Not everyone's me."

Delta's frankness was, like usual, a breath of fresh air. And she meant it; Zoey had grown to trust this woman with bizarre speed. "Like I was saying, though. If you have several, what determines your advancement?"

"The average between them, I guess? Most people have one, so it's not complicated."

"Just one?"

"Just one," Delta scoffed. "Fuck you."

Zoey blinked.

Delta rolled her eyes. "One is normal. 'Just one'. Gods. You're insufferable."

"Have you tried being born lucky?"

Delta laughed. Zoey smiled, too. The fox-girl's laugh was growing quickly entrancing.

There was a short silence.

"We're alone up here," Delta said. "People don't use this bridge."

Zoey looked around. "Yeah, I guess they don't." She couldn't see anyone in either direction, though a few had passed while they'd been standing, talking, and overlooking the spanning forest floor. Why had she brought it up?

Delta slid sideways, then rested her head against Zoey's shoulder, her long fox ears brushing against the side of her neck. Zoey's heart skipped a beat at the easy affection. Then, without warning, her hand snaked down Zoey's pants, invading her personal space in a way that had Zoey squeaking in surprise, her hips jerking back, before she quickly righted herself.

"Holy shit," Delta said, squeezing, and sending a lightning bolt through Zoey's body. Her tail swished in Zoey's peripheral, agitated, which seemed to be a surprised response. "How the hell did you hide this thing?"

Zoey's head pivoted left and right, even as her lower body reacted to Delta's cold hands. "We're in public," she said, heartbeat having quickly started slamming in her chest. The words were a bit ironic, seeing how Zoey had very publicly had fun with that clothing store attendant, but they'd been behind a closed door, and only the noise had leaked through; here, on the bridge, it was open air in every direction. Even if nobody was nearby.

"Fuck," Delta said. "It's still growing. What the hell is this thing?"

"It's, uh, bigger than most." That was an understatement.

"It's still going!"

Zoey's cock filled out, Delta's fingers exploring as it did. She couldn't reach all the way down Zoey's pants to feel the tip, anymore.

Zoey leaned against the wooden railing of the bridge and tried to ignore Delta's questing hand. "Are you, uh, sure this a good idea?"

"What's the worst that could happen?" Delta asked. "Public indecency charge? Who cares?"

"It's, uh," Zoey's breath caught as Delta's hand squeezed around her shaft. "Rude, don't you think? To be in public?"

"A bit," Delta said. "But it's hot."

Zoey gasped as Delta's fingers dipped beneath her cock to stroke at Zoey's other sensitive area. Her hand finally shot up and gripped Delta's arm to stop her.

Delta blinked in surprise. "Don't like that?"

"I, um," Zoey didn't know how to put it into words. She'd been wondering it herself, recently. "I prefer the new part."

"Sure." Her hand returned to Zoey's cock. "Why?"

"I don't know."

"Wanna talk about it?"

It was such a casual, friendly, unjudging offer that Zoey's first instinct—to say no—went ignored. "I—I—" She failed to put it into words.

"Must be a lot. Hard to adjust to, having something new there." The ease Delta held conversation while stroking Zoey's cock was a bit comical.

"A lot. Yeah. It's a lot."

"Easier to pretend it's all you got, now?"

"I guess?" Zoey winced at how Delta leaned forward and got her arm all the way down, playing with her cock tip. "Um. I always preferred girls. So I'm hardly not used to … the normal … way." Zoey didn't like how she'd phrased it. "But both at once is uncomfortable."

"Seems like it'd be fun."

"It probably would be."

Delta bobbed her head. "Take it at your own pace. Fuck what anyone else says."

Zoey laughed. Such a beautiful, simple world-view. "It's new. Makes it more exciting, I guess? The other part has had plenty of fun. She's just … taking a break."

Delta smiled. "More exciting. I bet. Man, what I'd give for a cock."

"You would?"

"Hell yeah. Haven't you been listening to me? I love new shit. Give me alien parts. What do flowers have? Pistil and stamen? Think those feel good?" She laughed, obviously not serious—but also, in some small sense, completely serious. "What's it like? Do you mind?"

"The, uh."

"Cock. Yeah."

"It's. Um. Fun." Her thoughts were becoming harder to form. Delta was working away eagerly. "It was weird to start off. And … intense."

"I'm assuming blondie was your first?"

Was it rude to answer that question? "I don't kiss and tell."

Delta laughed. "What a gentleman. But sure. Fine. How far have you gotten?"

"I don't kiss and tell."

Delta pouted. "I'm just making conversation. What's it like, being inside a girl?"

Zoey leaned her forehead against her arms, the feeling in her lower-body quickly building. "Don't, um, kiss and tell."

"Fine. Be a prude. It's really obvious you and blondie have been getting freaky."

Zoey hadn't actually been inside Rosalie, though. Not besides her throat. It was funny Delta thought that was a given.

Delta worked away, Zoey's panting and moaning the only thing filling the air.

Suddenly, she stopped, hand jerking out from inside Zoey's pants. She leaned over the railing. Zoey blinked, the haze of lust making it hard to think.

"What—?"

"Heads up. Right side."

Zoey glanced right. A man and a woman were walking down the bridge, slowly coming into view. Delta had been paying attention.

Zoey groaned, leaning forward. "Fuck. That's really mean."

"Wait a few minutes, you crybaby."

"What happened to 'fuck it'?"

Delta raised her eyebrows at Zoey. "Challenge me, and I will do it. I stopped for your sake."

Zoey's needy lower-half almost made the decision for her, but she bit her lip and said, "No, you're right. Thanks. That'd be super embarrassing."

The three minutes it took for the two to pass were some of the most excruciating of Zoey's life. Delta had left her right on the edge of orgasm, and her cock pulsed angrily in neglect.

Delta's hand slid back down her pants in blessed relief. The stroking continued.

"This'll do, right?" Delta asked.

"Do?"

"For your skill."

"Oh. Um. Yes?"

"You don't sound certain."

"The exact phrasing is, 'release seed onto or inside target and activate to form bond'."

"Bond?"

Zoey guessed they hadn't talked about her skillset. "I have to be bonded to you to use my skills." Or skill, for now. She assumed future ones would only work on bonded targets, too.

"What kind of skills?"

"Bolster, which gives you a short, powerful boost in strength." Zoey's hips wiggled as the pressure in her core built. She was getting close. "And, uh, 'Alacrity'. Which makes bonded targets advance runes faster."

The jerking motion inside Zoey's pants ceased. "You're shitting me."

"Don't stop, asshole."

Delta's lips quirked at Zoey's plainly-stated outrage. The movement resumed. "You make other people advance their runes faster?"

"So it says." It was a hard ability to quantify, obviously.

"Shit. I think that's what blondie was trying to keep me from finding out."

"Why?"

"Because it puts a target on your head, you fucking idiot. Gods, she's right. You're way too clueless."

"It's that big of a deal?"

"Hm, let me think. Yes? I could absolutely see a high-rank Wayfarer enslaving you to take advantage of it."

"Enslave?"

"Shit's not all sunshine and meadows out there, Zoey. Are you kidding me? I know you've got memory problems, but you lost common sense, too?"

"This—this is a conversation, uh, better held when I can think straight." She was trying to digest Delta's scolding, but failing. All she could think about was the building white-hot pleasure.

Delta was quiet for a second, then laughed. "Yeah, fair enough. How close are you?"

"Pretty close."

"Bridge is clear. Assuming you don't wanna make a mess, toss those pants down."

"Are you serious?"

"I'll let you know if we have visitors." She shrugged. "Or drench your pants in cum. That's totally the better option."

Zoey considered it for a few seconds, before undoing her belt, buttons, and dropping her pants. She finagled her cock above her underwear. Delta's hand didn't stop stroking the whole way through.

"Fuck me," Delta said. "How big is it?"

"Fourteen inches?"

"Maker. Why do some people have all the luck?"

"Beats me," Zoey gasped. She pressed her forehead back into her arms, leaning against the bridge railing, as her crescendo finally arrived.

Eight or nine body-twitching pulses later, Zoey had emptied herself out into the open air, and, more relevantly to the mission, across Delta's hand. She activated her skill, Bonding her.

"Where the hell did you keep all that?" Delta laughed, wiping her hand on Zoey's underwear. "You could've filled a bucket." She slapped her ass, making Zoey jump in surprise. "We should head back. There's an irritable blonde waiting for us."

"Is it done?" Rosalie asked.

"Is it done," Delta mockingly repeated. "No, I agreed to this so I could scam her from an eight copper meal. Second-advancement life is hard, we gotta take what we can get."

Rosalie's lips tightened. She turned to Zoey.

"It's done, yeah." Rosalie and Delta didn't like each other. That was, without a doubt, going to cause headaches.

Which was a shame. Both were amazing. She'd only had a few hours to get to know Delta, but everything she had learned had formed a glowing appraisal of the girl.

"Good," Rosalie said. "We leave in the morning. Room 515?"

"That's me," Delta said.

"We'll be there. Third bell. Don't answer, and we'll leave without you."

"No, you won't," Delta said. "But I like the gusto."

Rosalie stalked away. Zoey stood frozen, grimacing at Delta, who grinned in return, before chasing after Rosalie.

"I like her," Zoey said. "You should be nicer."

"You like anyone willing to jerk you off," Rosalie spat. "So forgive me if I take the opinion with a grain of salt."

Zoey froze.

Rosalie realized a second later, coming to a stop herself, and turning to look at Zoey.

"If there's a problem," Zoey said. "You should express it." She had to maintain her voice to mask the hurt.

A genuine expression of distress passed Rosalie's face, before being wiped away. "I didn't mean that. I don't care what you do for fun. I'm just … why her?"

"Delta is sweet. She's abrasive, but genuine." Not that dissimilar from you. In that way, at least. Rosalie and Delta couldn't be less alike.

"She's more than abrasive."

"Yeah, maybe. But you'll like her if you give her a chance."

"I doubt that."

"Sounds like we'll be sticking together for a bit. So hostility might not be for the best. For team dynamics."

Rosalie sighed, then wiped her hand across her face. "I know."

It was more of a show of weakness than she was used to seeing. "Is something wrong?"

Rosalie's blue eyes bored into Zoey.

Her cheeks colored, and she glanced away.

Zoey stepped forward and took Rosalie's hands in hers. "What? Tell me?"

"She got the first date," Rosalie mumbled.

Zoey blinked in surprise.

Rosalie wrenched her hands away and stalked forward.

"Wait. Wait!"

"I'm being a child."

"First date?"

Rosalie threw hands in the air. "Why would I want to go on a date? I've got so much more important things to be handling. Don't even offer."

Zoey grabbed Rosalie's hand and forced her to stop. "Rosie." She met blue eyes with deadly seriousness. "There's nothing I want more. Go on a date with me? Please? It's a waste of time, but it would make me the happiest girl in the world."

Rosalie lasted a few seconds under Zoey's intense gaze. She stepped forward and pressed her head into Zoey's shoulder. "I guess I can make time. It'll have to be after the next shard."

"Thank you," Zoey said. "I'll try to come up with something fun."

"You better," Rosalie mumbled. "If I had a girlfriend, she has to be someone who tries her hardest."

Chapter 25

Chapter Text

Zoey's second night of sleep in an alien world was as strange as the first. Her dreams were nonsensical, twisting. She dreamed of birthday parties attended by shadow-people. Of picking her way down the creak, hand-in-hand with a girl with a void where her face should be, stomach fluttering with butterflies as she stared into bright (Blue? Green? Brown? Gray?) eyes.

The dreams shifted.

To something slightly less upsetting.

A relieved exhalation escaped Zoey's lips as her eyes fluttered open.

She looked down at her body, where a blonde girl had Zoey's cock in her mouth.

"Fuck," Zoey said.

Things really aren't so bad.

Zoey's cock separated from Rosalie's mouth with a pop. "I figured you needed to be taken care of," Rosalie said, all business. "I've heard the phrase 'pitching a tent', but you took it to the literal." She tutted and shook her head. "A gross woman like you would have morning wood. It was stabbing into me."

"Stop talking," Zoey murmured, leaning forward and wrapping her fingers into Rosalie's hair. "Get back to it."

Rosalie's lips twisted up, and she did as told, following the guidance of Zoey's hands pushing her down. Her lips spread open as Zoey's cock penetrated into her wet mouth.

Things really aren't so bad.

Couldn't be much better, honestly. Bright blue eyes locked with hers as Zoey's lower half was pleasured by an eager tongue, and a wet, bobbing mouth.

For a while, Zoey just indulged in the sight, and the sensation. But when something started to build, she reluctantly pulled Rosalie's head up, who blinked in confusion.

Her, first. Zoey couldn't help but feel she'd been selfish recently. She wanted to get Rosalie off first, especially with how gassed she could be after she'd been gotten off.

Zoey had been putting something off for too long. From that pocket-space tucked into the back of her mind, Zoey pulled out that silver stud they'd earned. "You said I should use a numbing agent. Do you have any?"

Rosalie blinked, her face flushed, and coming to terms with why Zoey had pulled her head from her cock. "I don't think now's the time for—"

"Do you?"

"You're the one that needs to be taken care of, right—"

"Rosalie."

"I do," she said, huffing.

"Give it to me."

Rosalie withdrew a small medical vial from her inventory and passed it over.

"How do I use it?"

"Pour it on your tongue." She tutted and held her hand out. "Here. Give me the ring. I'll do it for you. My hands are steadier."

With a numbed tongue, the piercing took little effort, and didn't hurt at all. A small application of healing potion had the ordeal over in less than a minute, the quick pinprick of blood fading away. The healing potion also wiped away the numbing agent; sensation returned to her tongue, if it admittedly felt a little odd after the ordeal.

Zoey stuck her tongue out and waggled it for Rosalie's sake. "ow's it 'ook?"

The crimson on Rosalie's cheeks was all the approval she needed. "It's unseemly."

"Perfect. Ready to feel it inside you?"

"I already told you, you're the one who—"

"Lay down."

At Zoey's commanding tone, Rosalie obeyed. Like usual, the deference in such a proud girl brought a burning, dominating feeling to the forefront of her chest.

"Other way."

"Pardon?"

"On your stomach."

Rosalie obeyed, though she seemed confused.

Zoey sidled up to her. She admired Rosalie's ass. For having such a toned, muscled body, how the hell did she have so much filling it out? Zoey squeezed them with her hands, then slapped Rosalie's right cheek, causing Rosalie to produce a surprised inhalation of breath. She watched the flesh ripple, then slapped again, harder.

Fuck me. She's so perfect.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Zoey said softly. What she was about to do wasn't everyone's cup of tea, but she'd been wanting to try it out.

"Zoey?"

She pulled out an item she'd acquired earlier, and had been looking forward to using.

[Cleansing Liquid: Common. To aid a person in adventures down less-beaten paths. Cleans thoroughly and leaves a fruity aftertaste.

She twisted off the cap, then poured a small amount on her fore- and ring-finger. She set it aside. The bottle needed to go in eventually, to squeeze the material in, but Zoey was hardly just going to shove it into Rosalie without preparation.

"Zoey, what are you—?"

She spread apart Rosalie's ass and pressed cold liquid into her back entrance, coaxing circles around the ring of soft, sensitive flesh.

Rosalie gasped, but she didn't tell her to stop.

Having worked in the liquid—which served effectively as a lubricant—Zoey gently pressed her ring finger down, slipping it into Rosalie's unsuspecting hole.

Rosalie's entire body froze as she was penetrated in a way she had never been before. A whine escaped her lips at the foreign sensation. Zoey's cock throbbed in excitement. She wiggled her middle finger around, getting Rosalie's hole prepared for the bottle, sinking first a knuckle deep, then all the way she could.

She extracted her finger, and Rosalie gasped again.

Zoey brought the bottle up and rested it between Rosalie's cheeks, to let her know what was about to happen. Still, no objections. Rosalie's breathing was loud in the otherwise quiet room.

She slipped the tapered end of the bottle's spout into Rosalie's hole, then squeezed. Liquid spurted in, and Rosalie stuffed her face into the pillows and moaned at the strange sensation. Zoey wasn't sure how much to use, but she assumed not much. Magic was magic. It should clean her up with just a bit.

She popped the bottle out, vanished it, and leaned forward, heart rate picking up. Finally ready.

"That was, mm, odd," Rosalie breathed. "I can feel it … tingling around …"

Zoey pulled apart Rosalie's cheeks, then traced a tongue around her cute, pink second-entrance.

"You aren't going to—?"

Zoey sunk her tongue into Rosalie's cute, welcoming hole.

"Oh …" Rosalie exhaled. "You are."

Like the item had promised, the cleansing agent had left behind a fruity aftertaste. Zoey explored a wiggling tongue around Rosalie's now-clean insides, bumping the silver-studded jewelry against Rosalie's warm walls. Zoey buried her face in deeper, lost in a haze of lust, her face pressed in between soft cheeks. Rosalie's ass; that was what she had her face snuggled into. And those whining, pleasurable noises were coming from her—from Rosalie. Zoey's tongue was the thing coaxing them out, Zoey's tongue, exploring her cute asshole.

"It's, it's, um, working," Rosalie gasped.

Zoey slid her tongue out. "The ring?"

"Yes."

"Glad I kept it?"

"It was a prudent decision," Rosalie breathed.

Zoey's lips quirked at the phrasing. Rosalie's formality was still in place; she wasn't working hard enough. So she sank her face back in and got to it.

Soon enough Rosalie wasn't making quips, only burying her face into pillows and whining.

Zoey readjusted positions, sitting up, but bringing Rosalie's lower body up to her face, so she was raised up, but with her face still pressed into pillows. It was an awkward position, but it allowed her to rub her thumb across Rosalie's pussy—which was drenched—and also sink her tongue into Rosalie's back-door at the same time, exploring in long, circular strokes.

Her cock dribbled precum, having been half-way pleasured then forgotten, still wet from Rosalie's mouth, but the enjoyment of extracting Rosalie's pitiful noises overshadowed her own need.

The combined assault of Zoey's fingers rubbing into her folds and clit, and Zoey's tongue circling her backdoor, had Rosalie quickly devolving into incoherency. Rosalie's second entrance squeezed around her tongue, clamping down, as her body shuddered in orgasm. Zoey picked up her efforts, forcing her tongue to wiggle around a now-tense, barely pliable hole. Rosalie's muffled noises, face buried in the pillow, were something Zoey locked into her memories. God, she's so perfect.

Once she'd been appropriately rode down, Zoey collapsed next to Rosalie and pulled her into her arms. Rosalie's body was still twitching with the remnants of orgasm—pelvis jumping randomly, every five or six seconds as the aftershocks hit. Zoey continued to gently play with her.

Zoey buried her face in Rosalie's long hair and savored the bliss of knowing this—this beautiful, determined girl—was hers. Hers to enjoy. Hers to spoil.

Zoey's joking words from their last encounter—I think I might be in love—echoed in her head.

"Did you like that?" Zoey murmured.

Rosalie's body twitched, again, orgasm not fully settled. "It was … adequate."

Zoey's lips quirked. "This is what you get for waking me up like you did. I always repay the favor."

"I'll … make sure to remember that …"

They laid for a bit, Zoey basking in Rosalie's warmth.

Finally, Rosalie rolled over. "Can we try something?"

That had never once been a bad thing to hear, coming from a naked partner in bed, so Zoey's immediate answer was, "Sure."

Zoey was laying back, facing the ceiling, and Rosalie climbed on top of her. Her hand went between her legs to grip at Zoey's cock, guiding it. For a brief second, Zoey's mind went white in anticipation—but that wasn't what Rosalie was doing. She guided it to between her legs, so it was pressing between her thighs, but not actually guiding it into her entrance.

She leaned forward, and their tits pressed into each other's. Their faces were a few inches apart. Zoey wanted so desperately to catch Rosalie's mouth with hers, but something stopped her. Like it always did. A kiss—a real one—would cross some invisible boundary that Zoey knew was there. And … she was afraid to see how Rosalie would react.

This—sex—was fine. Romance might not be.

Even a first date had been a precarious thing to obtain. So instead she pressed her lips into Rosalie's neck, kissing up and down, settling for second-best.

Rosalie's hips jerked up and down, and Zoey's cock slid between smooth thighs, against Rosalie's pussy.

A thigh job. 'Try something new'. Like always, the phrase had ended with something amazing.

Zoey gripped her hands into Rosalie's ass and started pumping. Her cock slid between slick thighs, which Rosalie kept clenched together to provide pressure, and were lubricated by Rosalie's wetness. Their bodies jostled against each other. Rosalie breathed hot air onto Zoey's face, somehow more intoxicating than the feeling of her cock sliding between her thighs.

Rosalie kissed Zoey's own neck, and that was the first time that had happened. Zoey closed her eyes, craning her chin up to open the space for Rosalie's access. She floated in a sea of pleasure. Rosalie's soft lips peppered Zoey's neck, and her eager lower half worked diligently against Zoey, rolling her hips in pace with Zoey as she built to a climax.

How did I get so lucky?

"In my mouth?" Rosalie murmured into her neck.

Zoey shook her head. "Keep going." She wouldn't stop her thrusting for anything. Rosalie's slick thighs were so amazing her thoughts were being erased. Zoey was quickly melting into a puddle of pleasure. Her lower half impacted Rosalie's with lewd smacks as Rosalie continued to kiss Zoey's neck.

Her cock started to twitch, and Zoey didn't bother trying to hold the pleasure at bay. She let go.

It got everywhere. Like usual. Mostly over Rosalie's back, and on the bedsheets. Zoey's cock sticking straight into the air meant there was some serious coverage. We really should start being more considerate.

But Zoey couldn't be blamed. Rosalie's thighs had been way too soft, slippery, and determined.

Rosalie laid atop Zoey for a while. Zoey refused to be the one to break contact. Everything was right in the world, with her warmth pressing down on Zoey's body.

"We need to get started," Rosalie sighed, and she sounded as disappointed about it as Zoey felt.

"I guess we do."

They laid that way for several more minutes, regardless, Zoey's arms wrapped around Rosalie's body, and Rosalie's head buried into the crook of Zoey's neck.

Zoey guessed she wasn't the only weak one.

Rosalie was, of course, the one to finally slide off. "This mess is going to make us late. You're so troublesome."

"I say we go again."

Rosalie crossed her arms. It propped her tits up, which Zoey had to suspect was intentional. There was no way Rosalie didn't know what she had.

"Up," Rosalie said. "Time to start our day."

"Our day could be this. Let's not leave. What's one day off?"

Rosalie hesitated, which was honestly a bit shocking, before shaking her head to clear it. "Off the bed, you insatiable creature. We've a lot to do."

"You could be the 'a lot' we have to do."

"That was horrible."

"I just had a succubus using her thighs to turn my brain to mush. Sue me."

Rosalie blushed, which Zoey grinned at. She turned away. "I'm showering. If you don't want to join me, stay in bed."

Well. There was a quick way to get Zoey to finally stand.

She trailed after Rosalie with a grin.

Maybe I'll have more luck in the shower.

Chapter 26

Chapter Text

They visited Anja One-Eye to handle their mundane portion of items first. They showed up late, Zoey having found success in her soapy teasing of Rosalie's body during their shared shower. Not exceptionally late, though, but Rosalie seemed irritated at herself that she hadn't made it to the old woman's shop immediately on opening. Zoey had been called a few variations of the word 'troublesome'.

Zoey spectated in silence as she watched her partner go about the haggling process. Of the ten or fifteen rather unimpressive pieces of dungeon loot they'd left with Anja, Rosalie only kept three. The rest they bartered to Anja, which, from Zoey's understanding, would be shortly sold off to another party. Anja was simply an intermediary. Rosalie could make much greater profits if she took her time and shopped around, but Rosalie had said it herself: money didn't matter. Beyond being able to supply themselves, they didn't need the best equipment they could obtain for their advancement. In fact, Zoey got the sense Rosalie had no intentions of staying at advancement two for long enough for collecting second-advancement armor to matter.

Fe, the plush, curvy sheep-girl was up next. And Zoey was much more interested in the results of those items.

"It's incredible," Fe said. "The results of all three analyses were just, just fascinating! A first advancement shard, you said?"

Zoey grinned at the promising start. "Yeah. Let's hear it."

"Where should I start?" Fe had the three items they'd taken in to be identified laid out on the counter.

"Nipple rings, first?"

Fe nodded. "You were right to be suspicious. The name was standard enough—'of alacrity' is a routine modifier—but they serve more function than just a Wayfarer would take interest in."

"They do, do they?" Zoey's smile was growing. Fe seemed equal parts excited and awkward to talk about it.

"They're still adventuring equipment, but yes—they serve a few uses. You'll definitely want to keep them. Or sell them—I'm sure they'd go for a great price."

"Get to it, please," Rosalie said.

"Right! So. It has two sigils, as the description said. They're synergistic with each other." She coughed. "Forgive the frank phrasing: the first sigil accelerates a user's arrival to orgasm."

Zoey blinked rapidly. "That's a good thing?" She guessed if you were looking for a quickie … but the build-up was the best part, usually.

"Like I said, it's practical equipment! The second sigil, you see, produces a lingering attack-speed buff for fourteen to eighteen minutes after orgasm. So reaching orgasm fast is a good thing because of the synergy. It's fairly potent, too. Twenty-two percent."

"Percent!" Rosalie wasn't a woman prone to outbursts; it drew a surprised look from Zoey. "An amplifier like that? As a first advancement artifact?"

"I know! Incredible, isn't it?"

"That's, that's—" Rosalie paused. She wiped a hand down her face. "That makes this damned item the best I've found since I've come down here."

"And it gets better!" Fe enthused. "This shard, you two really don't know how lucky you got. The others are just as impressive."

"Sounds like we'll have to put them to good use," Zoey said, grinning at Rosalie. "You know. For practicality's sake."

Fe's face went red at the implication. Zoey had half forgotten they'd had company.

"We'll discuss that later," Rosalie said, also flushing, and shooting Zoey an annoyed look. "Please continue."

"The second item. The, um, cock ring." The lewd item name stumbled from the sheep-girl, even if she was much less awkward than Anja had been. "This one's the least practical of the bunch, but also the," she coughed, "erm, most fun-focused, to be direct. And quite bizarre. It does exactly as the description says—prevents orgasm, until the binder releases the item—but also more, something not specifically stated in the description. As expected of a rare-quality item. My analysis indicates the longer it's attached, or perhaps rather, the longer and more intense an orgasm has been staved off, the larger the weapon grows."

"Weapon?" Rosalie asked.

"W-Well, I didn't want to be crude about things."

"The cock," Rosalie said flatly, looking at Zoey. "I don't think bigger is what we need."

Again—Fe flushed. "Oh. G-Good for you two."

"Bigger's always better," Zoey returned, grinning at Rosalie. "I'm sure it'll be an experience, if nothing else."

Rosalie scoffed.

"And the last?" Zoey asked Fe.

"Right. The crown jewel, in my honest opinion." Fe cracked open the wooden case, revealing the set of six increasing-in-size pairs of silver buttplugs. "Now, these are really something. I could see them going for fifteen, twenty gold, even."

Rosalie's eyebrows raised; Zoey assumed that was a lot. "And what do they do?"

"Empower the user! In a variety of ways. I'm going to have to invent some verbiage here, if you'll forgive me, but basically, the larger the pair that the two users wear, the more 'storage' space for orgasmic energy."

"Orgasmic energy," Rosalie said disbelievingly. "What kind of empowerment? And why in pairs?"

"Beats me. For the pair requirement, I mean. Shard loot, am I right?" Fe coughed at Rosalie's unimpressed expression. Zoey could tell Rosalie was keeping her reactions strictly under control, because she was intensely embarrassed by all this. "But they'll only work when used together, and of the same size. The empowerment seems to affect a few things: vitality, perceptions, focus, and strength. Real useful mixture of stats. But the process is a bit specific."

"Go ahead."

"Once inserted, they'll store energy with every successive orgasm, up until they're removed—which will release the energy. So you'll need to plan accordingly."

"And it's a powerful effect," Rosalie said.

"Not multiplicative, but stronger for a lower advancement than the nipple rings. Assuming average first-advancement capabilities, probably close to a forty percent boost? For a second-advancement, probably around twenty-five."

"In all categories you mentioned?"

Fe nodded along. "Like I said. Fifteen, twenty gold—for a first-advancement item. It's one of the best I've ever seen."

"We really got lucky." Zoey was the only one grinning here, but she couldn't help herself.

"You really did."

"How'd you figure all this out, anyway?" Zoey asked.

Fe tutted. "That's a trade secret, ma'am. You'd need to join the Artificer's Guild and finish an apprenticeship for me to tell you."

"Did you clean them, at least?"

Fe paused, then flushed. She crossed her arms. "Hey! What are you implying?"

"Good news?" Zoey asked, walking into Sabina's alchemy store. Sabina had remembered to flick her 'open' sign to the correct position, today. Not that the shop had any customers.

"Perhaps," Sabina said, peeling off her goggles and separating herself from the simmering vat; the same way Zoey had found her yesterday. "It depends on your perspective of success."

"The blossom blight." That was the more important potion by an order of magnitude. Having aphrodisiacs on hand to spice things up was for sure something Zoey looked forward to, but not accidentally knocking girls up (again, assuming she could; her cock hadn't come with a manual) was on the 'must-have' list rather than the 'would be fun' list. And sure, Zoey could start using condoms, but that was her back up plan. She'd rather not. "How'd that turn out?"

"Determine for yourself," Sabina said. "One moment." She disappeared into the backroom, then returned with four red vials in her hand. She laid them on the front counter.

Zoey inspected them.

[Potion of Impotency: Render consumer infertile for four hours.

Zoey blinked. "Uh, yeah. That's a success. Doesn't even sound like a partial success." Like she had thought Sabina had implied.

"I failed the reverse," Sabina said. "I couldn't synthesize the 'blossom'. Without a doubt, the ingredient should yield something that increases fertility, too."

"Oh," Zoey said. "That's, uh. Not necessary. For my use, at least. How much of the reagent did it take?"

"Perhaps a tenth."

"And the flameroot?"

"Trickier. I believe when you return—and we have our first lesson—I'll have something to show. But nothing yet."

Zoey was a bit disappointed she wouldn't have some to take along for their next adventure, because who knew when some aphrodisiac would come in handy, but the most crucial potion had been successful; she took satisfaction in that. "Works with me. Not to be curt or anything, but we should get a move on. We're behind schedule. Do you need anything from me, or?"

"Yes," Sabina said. She pulled from underneath the counter a kit about chest-width and a foot deep. "Keep an eye out for anything odd. Not all reagents come from chests. I would have loved a sample of those vines you mentioned—their secretions, or the plants themselves. I suspect they would have served as a fascinating ingredient. This is a collection kit—bring it with you."

"Oh," Zoey said. "Sure. Anything in specific to look for?"

"Use your best judgment," she said. "It depends on whether you get an aberrant shard again." She tilted her head. "You do seem unusually confident you will."

Zoey coughed. "Maybe I'm optimistic." She vanished the collection-kit into her inventory. "Okay. Well. Be back tomorrow."

"I'll be here," Sabina said idly, walking back to her potion-preparation station. "Any time of the day, or night. I sleep in the back room. Feel free to visit, if you find something worth my time."

You sleep in your backroom, and you're still broke? This woman desperately needed someone handling the business portion of her, well, business.

A bleary-eyed Delta answered the door.

"Man, you weren't kidding," she said. "Third bell?"

"Please tell me you didn't just wake up," Rosalie said.

Zoey repressed a sigh. She'd been hoping Rosalie and Delta would work off their distasteful first impressions of each other, but Delta not being ready on their agreed-upon time wasn't going to help with that.

"I thought you were joking," Delta said. "Third bell. Really?"

"Why would I be joking about—"

"Kidding. Lighten up, blondie. Sheesh. Give me like, three minutes." Delta slammed the door shut.

"I'll like her," Rosalie said tightly as they stared at the wooden door, "if I give her a chance, will I?"

"She's, uh. An acquired taste?"

Zoey, Rosalie, and Delta descended the titanic trunk of one of Treyhull's many supports. Their destination, the Crystal Ravines, a second advancement realm three shifts away—and where Zoey's party would be seeking their second, more powerful this time, shard.

To think this one's going to be voluntary.

The first tried to molest them. What would the second do?

A surprising amount of adventuring was just … walking. The trip to Rosalie's chosen realm—the Crystal Ravines—where they'd be seeking their second shard was no small venture by itself; and even once there, they'd need to scour the zone, looking for the enigmatic markers that indicated the entrance to a shard.

In the meantime, they talked.

"You're really that inexperienced?" Delta asked.

"First time I ever casted a spell was yesterday," Zoey said. "First time I ever got in a fight in general, really."

"Damn. Seriously?" Delta turned to Rosalie. "You sure this is a good idea?"

"It's why I asked if you were self-sufficient," Rosalie said. "Take care of yourself, and I'll be able to focus on her."

"Sure," Delta said, "but I dunno, still. Shards are shards. She's the only first advancement going into this, and she's got no clue what's going on. She's over her head big-time."

"I'll protect her."

"You better." Delta shook her head. "I know she makes our runes evolve faster, but I'm not trying to get someone killed just 'cuz she's useful to us."

Rosalie stiffened. She turned a withering glare to Zoey. "You told her that?"

"She's got a big fucking mouth," Delta said. "You have to have learned that. Haven't you two been together for a bit?"

"I didn't see why I shouldn't," Zoey said defensively. She was really being assaulted here; the allegations of being useless were entirely true, but the second vector of disapproval, she felt unjustified. She didn't think having a trusting nature was a bad thing. It opened her up to vulnerability, but Zoey also didn't want to be a person who never opened up to others on the off chance she was stung. Which wasn't to say she'd be outright idiotic about it, blabbing her secrets to anyone willing to listen, but Delta was—

Well, shit. She didn't know. She trusted Delta. Zoey thought she was pretty good at reading people, and Delta was easier to read than most; and she didn't think the fox-girl wore her heart on her sleeve as some kind of ruse.

"You didn't see why not," Rosalie said flatly. "Really."

Zoey sighed. "I'm happy you're looking out for me, but it's my choice, not yours, who I tell what to."

Which Rosalie couldn't argue. She turned back to Delta. "I'm not 'putting her in danger' because she's useful to me—not any more than I would any teammate. I do the same for you, and you to me, or her, as well. It's the nature of our profession."

"She's practically a civilian," Delta said. "Not to mention she has her memories wiped, doesn't have the first clue how most things work. So no, it's not the same. Most teammates, I can assume know the risks."

"I'll be guarding her," Rosalie said. "So unless you'd like to level similar accusations of incompetence toward me, she'll be fine."

"It's not your competence I'm worried about, old blood. It's that if there's anything your type is famous for, it's stepping on throats on the long way up the ladder."

"Such is the game," Rosalie said. "But she needs to be protected to be useful, doesn't she? So I'll protect her, if nothing but for that. So your point is moot. You fling insults simply to fling them."

Zoey's stomach was sinking at the brutal analysis Rosalie provided. Especially the 'stepping on throats is necessary' part. "You don't actually think that, do you?"

Rosalie blinked as she turned to Zoey—then something in her posture closed off, face going blank. "I would love to stand here and wax lyrical, babble like an idealist, extol the virtues of cooperation and raising each other up, but the reality," the word dripped from her mouth with distaste, "is that not much can be accomplished without someone getting hurt. Advancement may not be a zero-sum game, but it's something close."

Zoey had known Rosalie had harsh view points—that this world in general would, considering its brutal axioms of existence—but hearing her lay them out pained her. She doesn't mean it. Except, it sounded like she did.

"And that's all that matters," Delta said. "Higher, higher, higher. Everything else is noise."

"Essentially," Rosalie said harshly, "But satisfy yourself with mediocrity. Why would I care?"

Delta snorted, then caught Zoey's eyes, who had watched the exchange with growing unease.

"Old blood," Delta said simply. "I told you."

"Old blood is old for a reason," Rosalie said. "And it will continue to be. But bask in your moral superiority."

They walked in silence.

They both thought they'd won the argument.

Zoey guessed they both had.

Chapter 27

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The tense mood settled, eventually. They couldn't stew in silence for long. They had plenty to talk about, and Zoey meant that in a practical sense; Rosalie's interview of Delta had been brief, and their discussions too, because they'd intended on talking strategy on the long trip to the shard entrance.

"I'm sorry," Delta said. "Topped off? What do you mean she'll need to be topped off?"

Rosalie glanced at Zoey. "You didn't tell her?"

"Didn't come up."

Rosalie made a 'go-ahead' gesture.

Zoey and Delta met eyes. Delta seemed amused, fox ears twitching even as the edges of her lips curled up.

Zoey couldn't fully prevent the coloring of her cheeks, even if Delta knew the strangeness of Zoey's class, by this point. "I don't use mana," Zoey said. "I use, uh. Lust. It's like mana, but doesn't recharge passively, and is only refilled with intimacy."

"And is more potent," Rosalie added.

"It is?" Zoey asked.

"Your one-circle ice spike is unnaturally powerful."

"Really?" Rosalie hadn't mentioned any such thing to her.

"About twice as strong as a competent first-advancement caster's would be," Rosalie said. "The downside is that you exhaust yourself much faster. Enough you could run out in a single fight."

"Hence the top-offs," Delta said, nodding. "Sheesh. So, what. Between every fight? That's a lot of sex."

"Every fight would be unnecessary," Rosalie said. Like usual, when she became embarrassed, her voice took a controlled, clipped tone. "But with some frequency, yes. We don't want her reserving her abilities; she needs to train her runes as much as us."

"So every few."

"Five or six, I would guess."

"Still a lot of sex. We taking turns?"

"It doesn't need to be sex," Rosalie said. "Intimacy of any form, with one of her bonded targets."

"Yeah, but handys'll get old. What do you usually do? Mouth, or all the way?"

Rosalie started sputtering.

A thought having hit Zoey, and also to save Rosalie, she interjected, "Will having both of you mean a faster recharge?"

Delta and Rosalie looked at her.

Zoey blushed. "Not because—I'm not trying to—"

"Horndog," Delta grinned. "One isn't enough? Gotta have us both at the same time?"

"It just seems plausible! Not trying to be weird. Either of you is more than anyone could hope for."

Delta paused, then blushed. "You can't say shit like that with such a straight face. What's wrong with you?"

Rosalie, on her part, had crossed her arms. If Zoey had to guess, it was because Delta had been lumped in under the descriptor of 'amazing' along with her.

"I'm just saying, it makes sense," Zoey said.

Delta considered it for a second, then laughed. "Eh, guess it does. The Maker knows it could fit four hands, so that won't be a problem. Or two mouths, for fuck's sake. Five or six of them, really. Guess it's worth a shot."

Zoey tried not to linger on the imagery of five or six mouths working up her shaft. Getting hard while hiking through the rugged terrain of the Fractures would be a bit inconvenient.

"As if I would ever engage in—in such activities—with this woman," Rosalie said.

"Then one is fine," Zoey said instantly. "The thought just struck me. Everyone's comfort matters more."

"Aw," Delta said. "That's sweet, and really gross. Seriously, stop saying shit like that." She wrinkled her nose at Rosalie. "And what happened to professionalism? As if I'm twitching to jump into bed with you. But she's got a class, and reality needs to be faced. Weren't you the one whining about that?"

"If it becomes necessary, then I'll consider it. Her resources are hardly difficult to come by. One of us is plenty. It'll simply mean more stops—if that's even how it works."

Delta shrugged. "Whatever. Prude."

The conversation devolved into bickering, as it had a few times before.

How are we only an hour in? Would they even make it to the shard in one piece, before Rosalie and Delta started engaging in honor duels?

Forecast … not promising.

"Loot distribution," Delta said. "How's that working?"

"Discretionary. Dump it and split, if there's issues."

Delta bobbed her head, as if the words that had escaped Rosalie's mouth were more than a collection of nonsensical sounds. "Sure. Even?"

"Is always the goal." Rosalie shrugged. "You'll find we're not picky. It's low-advancement equipment. Who cares?"

"Fill me in?" Zoey asked.

Rosalie glanced her way. "Oh. We'll use our best discretion, come to an agreement on how items will be split, once the shard is complete. If we can't—if we refuse to find some terms we all agree on—then we'll sell everything we've collected to a third party and split the coin three ways. Which is less than ideal, but the only fair option when compromise can't be made."

Made sense, Zoey guessed. It wasn't the first time Rosalie and Delta had used lingo Zoey needed to be caught up on. Before, when it'd just been the two of them, Rosalie had been careful in which phrases she used, knowing Zoey had no clue what was going on. Now, having another experienced Wayfarer by her side, the two fell into nearly nonsensical discussions. It was useful for picking up on how things worked, at least. Zoey was getting the barest hang of Wayfarer terminology.

"Speaking of items," Zoey said. "We using ours, this shard?"

"The … ?"

"New ones, yeah."

Rosalie's lips pursed. "With such significant benefits, it would be foolish not to."

"My turn to be filled in, lovebirds. What new items?"

Rosalie's nose wrinkled at the 'lovebirds' statement, but she answered Delta. They two might dislike each other, but they were professionals; enjoying each other's company was far from a prerequisite to them working as a team. That included these preliminary discussions on how they'd be tackling the shard.

"Last shard was unusual, as we've mentioned to you."

"And you think this one'll be too." Delta nodded her head; Zoey and Rosalie had hardly dragged her along without informing her of that risk. "So, what, pervy items? How so?"

She'd picked up on the subtext, so at least they didn't have to break the general idea to her. Rosalie deferred to Zoey, glancing her way; like usual, Zoey picked up the slack on the more embarrassing parts of their circumstances.

Might as well hurl off the deep end; no reason to tiptoe. Hadn't Delta been the one to say exactly that: that she hated tiptoeing? Made things easier. "The important ones are a pair of nipple rings, and a set of buttplugs."

Delta burst out laughing. "No shit." The reaction tugged a smile to Zoey's lips; she'd found the situation hilarious when it had emerged, too. "What do they do?"

"Both empower," Zoey said. "But only on orgasm." She'd spare the exact details. Only needed to get the general idea across, for now.

Rosalie was shaking her head and pointedly ignoring the conversation.

"You told me this shard might be perverted," Delta said, "but you didn't tell me you'd be shoving shit up my ass."

"Definitely not a requirement. Again, only do what you're comfortable with."

"What kind of buffs we talking?"

"Significant," Rosalie said. "It's the only reason I remotely considered it."

"'Significant' to her means something serious, I'm taking it," Delta said, looking at Zoey.

"The artificer we worked with suggested a forty percent boost to …" Zoey had forgotten.

"Vitality, perception, focus, and strength," Rosalie said.

Delta stumbled a step. "No joke?"

"Considering their oddity," Rosalie said tightly, "it better produce a worthwhile effect."

"They have to be worn in tandem, too," Zoey said. "They're in matching pairs. Same size. Bigger ones mean better effect."

"You've got multiple sizes?"

"A whole set."

"Shit, bust those bad boys out. Lemme take a look."

Zoey did so. They continued to walk and she cracked open the case and showed off the bizarre items to Delta.

Delta withdrew the largest of the plugs—one which flared larger than Zoey's fist, noticeably larger, big enough to be comical—and stared at it in disbelief. "Dude, even if I wanted to, not a fucking shot. The hell you think I've been stuffing back there? My fist? Both of them?"

That kind of implied Delta'd been stuffing things 'back there' at all, which sent a little thrill through Zoey. "If I had to guess, that's why it's so strong. The smaller ones aren't as good. It'll take time to work up to the biggest."

"You're trying to work up to this?!" Delta waggled the plug in disbelief.

Zoey blushed. "I mean—um, no, not particularly? But don't you like, get used to it, over time?"

"Sure, if you're stretching yourself out daily." Delta paused. "Do you?"

"I haven't done much, uh."

"Backdoor stuff."

"Backdoor stuff," Zoey repeated. "But I'm not against it."

"So you'll be starting off small."

"Probably?"

"Well," Delta said. "You can make a lot of progress using health potions, if you're willing to be uncomfortable. Want to start? Like, noticeable progress. Enough to matter before we reach the shard."

"Oh," Zoey said. Shit, right now? "Um." She glanced at Rosalie.

"There's only two," Rosalie said, "and if I absolutely must be forced into this degeneracy, it'll be with the rings."

"Rings?" Delta asked.

"Nipple rings that improve attack speed on orgasm," Zoey said.

"What the hell?" Delta sounded delighted. "This shit is awesome."

"Yes, well, they're mine. You two handle the—" Rosalie waved in disgust toward their even less-savory item.

"Huh," Zoey said, still coming to terms with the swerve toward perversion. "Okay. But right now?"

"It's a bit weird walking with one, but it'll help stretch you out. Maybe you can be at the third smallest, by the time we're there."

Fuck me. She was going to hike all the way to the shard with these things shoved up her butt?

Why was her dick getting hard?

"There she is," Delta laughed. "I wondered when she'd be coming out to play."

Zoey flushed and adjusted the stiffening length in her pants. "Sorry. Could only hold out so long."

Delta shrugged. "I'm hardly a prude. And I've got the feeling blondie's well and used to it, by now."

Rosalie, like usual, ignored her.

"Alright, break time," Delta said, clapping, as the three of them stalled. "Me n' your girlfriend are about to get freaky, blondie, so you might want to cover your eyes."

"Girlfriend!" Rosalie sputtered a second, then stalked away.

"Man," Delta said. "She's got it bad. It's way too easy."

"I'd rather you didn't tease," Zoey said quietly, low enough Rosalie couldn't hear. "We're uh. Well. Me, I mean. I'm working on things."

Delta actually seemed a bit sympathetic to the request; she nodded. "Honestly, some dick'll do her good. So sure. I'll try to keep that teasing to a minimum. Not the rest, though. Now get those pants down, Missy."

Fuck. It's actually happening. She hadn't never had something up her ass—that one girlfriend who'd loved receiving had convinced Zoey into some fun of her own—but she was far from experienced.

Zoey pulled out a towel and laid it across the rugged forest floor. She tugged down her pants, then underwear, springing out her now-hard cock. Her clothes rested in a bunch atop her boots. Delta smirked at her, clearly taking amusement at this whole situation. Which, Zoey guessed, was good, all things considered. If Zoey had a perverted class, it was beneficial they'd wandered on a third party-member who wasn't too fussed by the ordeal.

Less fussed than Rosalie, even, who'd stalked away.

"This might be useful," Zoey said, pulling out the bottle of cleaning agent and handing it to her.

Delta blinked at the item, presumably Inspecting it. "Man, that simplifies things. Or, not simplifies, but—" she laughed. "Well, you get the idea." Delta got down between Zoey's spread-out legs, setting the buttplug box to the right. She shuffled forward. "Alright, time to do the scorpion."

"Sorry?"

Zoey squeaked as Delta man-handled her, grabbing Zoey's legs and toppling her so her back was curved, and Zoey's lower half was pressed into Delta's fully-clothed chest. She was bent in a 'C', her cock now pointed directly at her face. Zoey saw pre-cum had gathered at its tip—not that it'd be seeing any relief.

She looked ridiculous, without a doubt, curled over like this, upside down and with her pants and underwear at her ankles. Zoey got the feeling Delta had chosen this position for a reason.

Delta didn't waste any time, or ask permission. Zoey guessed 'implied' was more than enough for her. She squirted the cold liquid onto Zoey's asshole, the sensation making her shiver, then started rubbing her fingers in circles, which made her gasp.

"You're not totally new, right?" Delta asked.

"No."

"That's good."

"Squeeze, uh, the bottle in. So it's clean."

Delta did so. It popped into Zoey's hole, spreading her open in a bizarre—but pleasurable—way. "Fuck," she panted, even as Delta squeezed, sending a burst of liquid in, which Zoey could actively feel working away on her insides. When Rosalie had said it 'tingled', she'd understated things.

Again, without asking, or even giving her forewarning, Delta's middle finger popped into Zoey's second entrance. Zoey gasped as a wiggling finger invaded her. She forced herself to relax; to not tense up. There'd be much larger invaders coming, shortly.

"Let's go for broke," Delta said. "I'm starting with second smallest."

There was half a question in Delta's voice, so she was at least somewhat considerate. Zoey didn't contradict her.

A cold piece of metal started making circles around her backdoor. The cleaning liquid had left behind a lubricated residue; it slid easily, the temperature of the object making her shiver.

A drop of precum dripped onto Zoey's shirt, absorbing in a dark stain. Why am I dripping so much? She was more excited than she thought she'd be.

The object pressed in, slowly, under Delta's steady efforts, and spread Zoey's rarely-used entrance apart.

She sucked in air; it was nothing like Delta's fingers. Those had been a surprise—foreign—but far from large. Even the second smallest of the collection spread her many times more. A pained whine slipped from Zoey's lips. It hurt, the smallest amount—but in a good way.

Delta stilled at the noise. "Too ambitious?"

"Just, uh, slower," she panted.

Delta pulled the object out, then started playing circles around her entrance. She dipped it in—drawing a gasp—then dipped it out, slowly working Zoey up to taking its full width.

It lasted a few minutes, Delta carefully working it deeper and deeper with every repetition.

Finally—

Zoey gasped as the pressure disappeared all at once, the flared metal finally sinking into Zoey's insides, and her tight hole wrapping around the skinny portion just before the base. Even the thin rod exerted no small amount of pressure, though, seeing how Zoey's asshole was—well, accustomed to being closed, not spread open more than a finger wide.

"There she is," Delta laughed. "Man, you're making a mess. Stop dripping everywhere." She was referring to Zoey's excited cock.

"Can't really help it," Zoey said, face blazing. The 'C' position Delta had curled her into was extremely embarrassing; she wished Delta had the smallest amount more shame. Zoey had liked it better when she'd been the unruffled one in the dynamic.

Delta wiggled the circular base of the toy, stirring it around in Zoey's insides. Zoey gasped.

"Stop playing!"

"When you make noises like that, how can I help myself?"

Zoey awkwardly shuffled back so that her ass was no longer in the air, and her cock no longer pointed at her face. "Your turn."

"I don't need the practice. I can already fit—well, whatever you can."

Zoey stared at her in disbelief. "You're going to make me suffer through this alone?" Even just adjusting herself back to a sitting position had jostled the object around, her clenching asshole highly displeased with its invader.

And her cock not highly displeased. Shit. It really feels great. I kinda wanna go bigger. But even this one had barely fit; better to not. At least, for now. By the sounds of it, she'd be working her way up as they walked. Delta hadn't mentioned health potions for no reason; Zoey assumed they'd be getting ambitious about things.

"You're a sweetheart," Delta said, "But I'm not walking six hours with a plug up my ass if I don't need to." She jabbed a finger at Zoey. "Only you need the prep."

Delta paused.

"But if you want me to take care of you, so you're not hard the whole way, I can do that."

Zoey's cock pulsed in anticipation.

Delta laughed. "That's a 'yes', in my book." She crawled forward and wrapped a hand around Zoey's cock. "I've heard it's even better when something's shoved up there. But I guess you're not a dude, so it's hard to say. They've got some butt stuff we don't."

"You really have a way with words," Zoey said dryly. She wondered—did she have one of those, with her transformation? Probably not. The insertion of the plug had felt more or less the same as when she'd had her few risque interactions with her old girlfriend. No magical soft-spot up there.

Still. The constant pressure of having that rarely-explored hole spread open by cold steel … it was definitely making Delta's coaxing hands a more effective extractor.

Zoey laid back and covered her face with an arm, letting herself be milked by two diligent, powerful hands, lower hole clenching against tough metal, flared bulb filling up her insides.

For the tenth or hundredth time, Zoey thought, It's really not all bad, is it? Stolen away between dimensions, memories carved away—but damn. Two eager, cute teammates, always willing to help.

Her stomach clenched. A burning anticipation built in her cock.

Her hips jerked forward, her back arching as she let go.

"There she is," Delta laughed delightedly as Zoey sprayed into the air, wrists twisting up and down. "And all over your face. You really don't care, do you, you naughty girl?"

Notes:

For those who might care, this story updates more consistently on ScribbleHub since it has a post-scheduling mechanic. New chapters drop on Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday at exactly 8:20 EST PM.

It's also where you can find some links to other pages of mine. Ao3, to my understanding, has some strict anti-monetization policies, so I won't say exactly what?

Or is that saying too much, too?

Thanks for reading. I'm not great about responding to comments, but some of them have me rolling. I appreciate each :)

Chapter 28

Chapter Text

Hiking for multiple hours with a plug of metal inserted up her ass wasn't the most comfortable of predicaments, and more than that, Delta's relief only lasted twenty minutes before the jostling stimulation had her dick filling her pants out again. Under Delta's suggestion, Zoey tucked her unwieldy member into her waistband to better accommodate walking with an erection, because they didn't have time for Zoey to be relieved every twenty minutes. And while the strategy had her cock stuffing all the way up her shirt, at least they weren't rubbing against Zoey's pants, caressing her sensitive tip against the tough material.

Her thoughts were sex-hazed as they walked. Delta made constant fun of her for it, and Zoey tried to be her normal self, but mostly failed. Rosalie seemed irritated by Delta's teasing—and flushed at Zoey's own constant red cheeks, the way Zoey's eyes were latching to their hips, chest, and thighs, her constant stimulation driving her thoughts wild. It at least spiced the mundane trip up, had the clock ticking faster than it would have otherwise. She and Delta stopped twice to work her up to more ambitious plug sizes; she did better than expected, going up two more, and having Zoey feeling painfully (and delightedly) full.

Their destination realm, the Crystal Ravines, they arrived to an hour after noon—not that there was any sun to be making such a determination by, but rather, some artifact Rosalie carried around, which she checked with almost anxiety-inducing consistency. Zoey had jokingly called her a taskmaster, but she really was one. She worked with demanding efficiency and adhered to a schedule, and expected she and Delta do the same.

Tracking down a shard entrance was trickier, but only took a few hours. By Delta's raised eyebrows, it was an impressive speed, and one facilitated entirely by Rosalie. Old blood, Delta's phrase bounced around in Zoey's head. It had the same ring as royalty, even if context didn't fully equate the two.

They stared into the murky black void of a portal. Zoey had grown fair enough used to the things, existing as doorways between realms, between shards, and even inside loot chests, so the magical sight didn't amaze her as much as the first times. Still interesting, though.

"Remember," Rosalie said. "If we're separated, stay still. You're not fit for solo wayfaring."

"I know," Zoey said. Again, her pride prickled at the way she was given so little credit; and again, her more rational mind fought that reaction down, because Christ, she didn't deserve credit. She was the fragile newbie that needed to be cared for—escorted and doted on. "I'll sit tight until you find me." If it came to that. There was no guarantee entry would separate them.

"We ready, then?" Rosalie asked.

"As ever," Delta said.

They stepped in.

Zoey groaned as she struggled to consciousness. She couldn't remember why, but she couldn't allow herself to give in to the desire to fall back asleep. Hadn't she been doing something? She shouldn't be resting. She had just … just …

Just entered a shard.

Her eyes shot open.

She flailed up in bed, throwing a warm, plush bedsheet from her body, cold air filling the vacuum and chilling her skin.

"Mmm," a voice to her left breathed. "What? What is it?"

Zoey's head pivoted. It didn't sound like Rosalie or Delta. It didn't sound like anyone she knew.

Her brain stalled.

She took in the face of the woman asleep next to her.

Zoey's eyes widened.

Both of theirs did.

Both of Zoey's did.

Not-Zoey—the woman asleep next to her—shot up in bed after her, bursting to awareness, and clutching bedsheets to her chest. She gasped, "What—What—"

"You're me," Zoey said incredulously. "What the fuck."

"You're me?! No, I'm, I'm—"

"Me?" Zoey suggested.

Not-Zoey shook her head. "You're—"

"Calm down," Zoey said. "It's shard bullshit. We were ready for this. Don't panic."

"Don't panic," Not-Zoey exclaimed. "I'm not. But how am I supposed to—?" Not-Zoey froze, then stared down at herself. She tossed the sheets off.

Zoey stared. So did Not-Zoey.

"Where the fuck is my cock?!" she shrilled.

Okay.

Okay.

This was weird.

What else had she expected?

Not-Zoey's hand scrambled between her crotch, as if to confirm her cock had really vanished. And it had. Not-Zoey had a cleanly shaved pussy, and while she was post-Ephy transformation, the most noticeable of her changes had comprehensively vanished; no enormous foreign genitalia took up residence between her legs. Zoey's hand patted absently at her own crotch, making sure a similar fate hadn't befallen her. It hadn't.

"So," Zoey said, "do you think I'm the fake one, or you?"

Not-Zoey gaped at her, at the question, before shaking her head and groaning. "Me, obviously."

At least she came to terms with it fast. Zoey paused. At least I came to terms with it fast? Or was Zoey being too prospective she wasn't the fake one? She didn't feel fake. She assumed Not-Zoey didn't feel that way either; it was simply the changes between her legs which suggested it. Whatever 'fake' meant—Not-Zoey seemed real enough to her.

"Where are we?" Not-Zoey asked.

Zoey looked around at the finely adorned room—resembling a manor's master bedroom—but found she had more important questions.

Namely: she was naked again, sans the equipment Rosalie had carefully helped dress her with. Don't tell me the shard stole our inventories again. Or for the first time, in Zoey's case. She wondered if Rosalie—and Delta—were in similar circumstances.

She checked that ephemeral, internal pocket-space.

Good news:

Not empty.

Bad news:

Zoey burst out laughing.

"What?" Not-Zoey asked with wide eyes.

"It left the sex toys," Zoey said simply. "And took everything else." In fact, she'd been so taken off guard—and accustomed to its presence from the long walk—she hadn't even noticed that the plug was still in her ass. So at least we're not starting from scratch.

A long pause.

Not-Zoey grinned. "Fuck me, that's funny."

"Isn't it?"

The two of them collapsed back, the strangeness of the situation serving as a catalyst to hilarity. They laughed themselves out, wheezing toward the canopy of the fancy bed.

"Perverted," Zoey corrected. "Not funny, perverted. Railroad us more, right?"

"As if you're mad about it. We get to see Rosalie's butt again, all day long."

"It's not the worst thing that could happen," Zoey amended.

"And Delta's," Not-Zoey said.

A pause.

"Shit," Zoey said.

"Preaching to the choir, sister."

"So you're uh," Zoey said. "You're good?"

"About being a clone?" Not-Zoey shrugged. "Feels normal. And we're pretty good at pushing off the existential dread, aren't we? Fuck it."

They silenced, Not-Zoey's casual words hitting a little too hard for either of their likings.

"Anyway," Not-Zoey said. "Guess the question is, why? Don't tell me—?"

Don't tell me it's a sex thing.

Zoey and Not-Zoey stared at each other, a blush building on their faces.

"I am not being fucked by myself," Not-Zoey declared loudly. "I'm not—stop getting hard!"

"I can't help it! You're naked!"

"I'm you! You, you—you narcissist!"

Zoey sat up in bed—at least her 'pitching of a tent' was slightly less noticeable that way—and raised her hands, palms out, in a placating gesture. "Okay. Let's talk."

Not-Zoey huffed, also sitting up. "You're not fucking me, I don't care what this shard has planned. That's weird. That thing isn't going inside me."

"No intentions." Zoey wouldn't have wanted that either, if she had been in Not-Zoey's position. Which, uh, made sense. They were the same person. "Seriously, chill. You're me. We can talk this out."

"Okay. Yeah. We can."

They stared at each other.

"Let's uh, start with figuring out what the hell's going on." Zoey started shuffling from the bed, intending to explore the room.

"Rosie told us to sit still," Not-Zoey said.

Zoey froze, one foot already touching the floor. "You think that means … even the room we spawn in?"

"Dunno. Guess we should've clarified."

Zoey hesitated, before finishing climbing out of bed. Not-Zoey tutted, then followed after. Oddly, she dragged the bed sheet along with her, wrapping them around her to preserve her modesty. Was that what I would do, in her situation? It had to be, right? Or was Not-Zoey not Zoey?

Stupid question. But the point was clear.

She guessed in this situation—Zoey being the one with the cock—Not-Zoey had taken a meeker role; or at least wanted modesty more. I guess that makes sense. Not-Zoey was the one under threat of being ravaged.

Her cock pulsed at the idea.

Zoey tried not to think about what it'd be like to fuck herself. To feel her own pussy squeezing around her. I'm actually a pervert, aren't I? Ephy had leveled the accusation as soon as she had summoned Zoey. And why else would Zoey have been chosen as a goddess of eroticism's champion?

I'm not fucking myself. She already said no.

I already said no.

"Would it count as masturbation?" Not-Zoey asked.

A laugh was torn from Zoey's lips, before she quickly cut it off.

She distracted herself.

The room she and herself had found themselves (herselves?) in was ornate, dripping with wealth. As Zoey had first appraised, a noblewoman's bedroom. Getting dressed, at least, wouldn't be a problem, or so she thought until Not-Zoey started pulling open wardrobe drawers and finding nothing. Tease.

Not-Zoey huffed. "Shouldn't be surprised."

"Being naked's part of the job, I guess."

Not-Zoey tossed the blanket she'd been covering herself with back onto the bed. Zoey tried not to pay attention to her naked curves. Fuck. My naked curves. What the hell is wrong with me?

"I'm not doing it," Not-Zoey said flatly. "Stop staring at me."

"Sorry." She hadn't meant to. "I mean—you know I won't. If you don't want to."

"And I don't!"

"I know!"

Not-Zoey wiped a hand down her face. "Go jerk yourself off or something, if you're going to be weird."

"I'm fine. It's just a cock." Then, pointedly, "Your cock." Two could play Not-Zoey's game. "Who cares if it's hard? You know it's just a … biological reaction."

"Stop pretending wanting to fuck yourself is normal."

"It's you wanting to do it," Zoey sneered. "If you were in my position, you would too. We're each other, remember?"

Not-Zoey paused. "Can we please focus?"

"Nice deflection."

"Asshole."

Zoey laughed, which had Not-Zoey doing so, too. At least the brief confrontation, and tension, had broken.

"Well," Not-Zoey said. "Not much in here. And we can't leave."

They looked around the room, then sat on the bed.

"Guess we're waiting," Zoey said.

Chapter 29

Chapter Text

Rosalie drowsily drifted to consciousness, and the first thing she was met with on opening her eyes was her own face.

For a moment, the sight didn't register. Her brain blanked out. Had a mirror been placed into bed with her, leaned over so that when she blinked awake, it was the first thing she'd see? But no, that didn't make sense. The position Rosalie was laying down with didn't match the mirror.

She jerked up in bed, and the mirror-image didn't follow.

"Mmm?" Not-Rosalie said, before scrambling up. "What? Shit. What happened?"

Rosalie had been trained for the bizarre situations that a shard could thrust on a person since birth. Her brain faltered only for that brief, confusing moment of just-waking-up haze before it had grinded back to full capacity. She analyzed her situation with a Wayfarer's critical eye—and calm.

'What? Shit. What happened?' Those weren't the instinctive words that would burst from Rosalie. Too crude. Too uncomposed.

Rosalie looked down at herself, and the sight clicked the last piece of the puzzle.

"It seems," Rosalie said to Delta-Rosalie. "That the shard has swapped our bodies."

Rosalie watched herself blink in surprise, then look down at herself.

"Huh," Delta-Rosalie said.

A few moments passed.

"Huh," she repeated. "That's, uh. Huh."

Rosalie climbed out of bed. She had a room to explore. The extra height was disorienting. Rosalie was accustomed to perfect control of her body, and the different ratios of her limbs threw her sense of proprioception into disarray. But she adapted. It wasn't something she'd trained for, obviously, but Rosalie was a fast learner. And their bodies weren't shockingly dissimilar. They were both lean, muscled, and Delta only a few inches taller. Mostly, it was Delta's chest that threw Rosalie for a loop. She wasn't used to having so much up top. Where did she hide these things? In her leather armor, Delta had seemed only moderately busty. Naked, she might have more up top than even Zoey.

And Zoey—that was why Rosalie was moving straight to business. As Rosalie had had a sinking suspicion would happen, Zoey hadn't spawned in with them. Figures I'd be stuck with this infuriating girl. Zoey could tolerate Delta, for some reason, but Rosalie most certainly could not; why had Rosalie ended up with her, and not the other way around?

She better be fine. A squirming, anxious feeling in her stomach contradicted her. Rosalie had dragged Zoey along into a second-advancement dungeon, and Zoey wasn't even suited for first-advancement. But Rosalie needed to progress her runes—to be working diligently toward her destiny—and so she'd forgone catching Zoey up; it would take too long. She knew the risks. I made them clear. Rosalie's earlier talk with Delta rang in her ears; she's practically a civilian.

She 's fine.

"Why are you still lying there?" Rosalie snapped.

"Getting used to being in a different body," Delta said lazily. "Maker, girl. You're like, zero percent fat. So why is your ass so big?" Delta was craned around, looking at her—Rosalie's?—ass.

Rosalie couldn't even begin to start on how to deal with that. So she chose not to. "Zoey's not here. Get up and help me."

Delta blinked at Rosalie. "Eh, she's probably eaten by monsters already. Looks like it's me and you."

Oddly, the absurd stating of Rosalie's fear alleviated it. Shards are brutal, but not unfair. If Zoey stayed still and waited for them to arrive, then she'd be fine. But it's Zoey. Can I really trust that? She'd promised it, and showed general good sense to the practical dangers of a shard, but knowing Zoey, all the shard would have to do is waggle a slime-girl's ass her way and Zoey would go sprinting off after it. She's such a fucking pervert, Rosalie seethed, completely irrationally; Zoey had hardly done anything wrong.

Not that she cared what Zoey did with her cock; it was how sex-obsessed she was that irritated her. Even against her own better judgment. Her mind flicked to that dressing-room girl. Gods, Rosalie had been so mortified. Her, a d'Celestin, kicked out of a clothing store because her partner had been caught fucking the store attendant.

I'm going to kill her. Rosalie didn't even know why she was getting mad. Again, Zoey hadn't done anything.

It wasn't her concern over Zoey's well-being fueling her irritation. Why would she be concerned?

"Stop ogling my body and get moving."

"I'm surprised you're so chill with us both being naked," Delta said.

"This was the entirety of our first shard. I've moved past it." Plus, Rosalie was only looking at her own naked body. Which was weird, but less embarrassing than Delta's, or Zoey's. Hence, why Rosalie wasn't looking down at herself. Or rather, Delta's body. There was a lot to ogle down there, and she caught glimpses of it in her peripheral, but she didn't have to pay attention to it if she didn't want to.

"Alright," Delta said, finally shuffling out of bed. "Our inventories are gone, too. Besides this." She pulled out and waggled the metal buttplug she'd been supposed to wear, to match Zoey's, then vanished it back into her inventory. "That happened last time?"

"Seems like shards Zoey delves follow a trend," Rosalie said. That is, utterly perverted, and an endless headache. "The good news is the difficulty is adjusted." They might not have armor or weapons, but the monsters would be weaker in exchange.

"You still have your rings on," Delta commented, playing with Rosalie's body's nipple rings. "Or, I guess, I do."

"Stop touching me."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

Delta gave her an incredulous look, but stopped fiddling.

Rosalie turned back forward. "Welcome to shards of perversion. The traps will try to molest you, so be on the watch out."

"Molest me? Shit, can't wait."

Rosalie gave her an irritated look, but Delta only grinned.

It was an unseemly expression to see on Rosalie's own face. Everything about the girl moving around in Rosalie's body was unseemly. Perhaps that said something about Delta herself. Rosalie, ever the diplomat, said nothing about her observation.

"What?" Delta asked. "I kinda wanna try it out. Get caught, on purpose. Sounds like it'd be fun."

"You and Zoey are a good fit," Rosalie said. "It's a shame you don't seem to care about her wellbeing."

"She's fine, old blood." Delta rolled her eyes. "If she sits still, we'll go find her. If she doesn't, she deserves to die for being a moron."

Rosalie didn't disagree, but she did bristle.

Delta waved her hand dismissively. "Alright, alright. Let's get a move on."

"Shit," Delta said. "You weren't kidding."

Rosalie stared at the contraption in front of her. "This is more … on the nose … than the last one."

"Last was first-advancement you said. Makes sense it'd be, uh, more direct."

Still. The vines had been an understated trap; a subtle addition to the environment which wanted to have its way with their bodies—and even when captured, had only groped at Rosalie's chest and stuffed her mouth full of aphrodisiac. No 'real' penetration had been involved.

This?

She and Delta stared down at the stone dildo protruding from the floor. It laid in front of a thick door. Spanning off to the right was an alternate path; Rosalie could infer what the shard was implying. In the same manner as the slime boss, they were offered two options. Either advance the perverted way—which would be significantly easier—or face the perils of the shard in its full wrath, but in the way Rosalie knew better.

The first would be easier. Zoey had been able to defeat the boss herself, playing by the shard's preferred methods. Had Rosalie … assisted her … in the lewd method of fighting that perverted slime, then it'd have been a given they'd won.

Rosalie needed to come to terms with this. She'd chosen to partner with Zoey, and so—in order to face the perverted obstacles they were sure to see many of—Rosalie had to engage on proper terms.

And sure, she might be a d'Celestin, and riding herself on a stone dildo to advance faster could be seen as degrading … unbefitting of someone her status … but she could spin the logic around. A d'Celestin did whatever she needed to. All that mattered was advancement.

"It wants us to fuck it, right?" Delta asked.

"That much is obvious," Rosalie snapped.

Delta paused. "Sounds like you need it more than me," she said dryly. "Maybe an orgasm will do something for your nerves."

"I—excuse me?"

"Just saying," Delta said. "I get you're worried about your girlfriend, but chill the fuck out. Stress is how you make mistakes. Clear your head. Aren't you supposed to be old blood?"

The last question was more effective than Delta probably intended it to be. It dunked ice water across Rosalie's body. Old blood. Rosalie wasn't acting like it. She was acting like a fresh beginner, a greenhorn Wayfarer, worried sick over her teammate's wellbeing. She breathed in, forcing herself to calm. Zoey would be fine.

And if she wasn't—such was life in the Fractures.

"You, or me?" Rosalie asked.

Delta's eyebrows rose. Or Rosalie's did. She was wearing her body, after all; Rosalie's disorientation over that hadn't faded much. It was surprisingly—or perhaps not surprisingly—discomfiting seeing her own face react in ways that weren't her own. "We're taking the shortcut? Kinda figured you'd go for the long way."

"That would be an inefficient choice. This is the nature of the dungeon. We need to adjust to it."

A quirked eyebrow. "Sounds like you're telling yourself, not me, blondie."

"Don't call me that." Her attempted calm was failing to weather the annoying girl's demeanor. "You or me? The other will handle the next."

Delta shrugged. "This one looks kinda boring. So have fun."

Kinda boring. As if Delta had been hoping for a raunchier shortcut. Perhaps something like those vines—the perverted girl wanted to be filled up by slimy, writhing plantlife. She and Zoey really are a good fit.

She eyed the protruding stone dildo, hesitating despite her words.

"We don't have to do this," Delta said. "What's a detour, right?"

Rosalie shook her head. "It'll be inordinately difficult."

"Will it?"

"I didn't fight the final boss how it was intended to be, and I lost."

"A first advancement?" Delta's surprise was plain.

"Yes," Rosalie said. "I lost against a first advancement boss when I didn't face it how the shard preferred. It was a close thing. I would have won, if I hadn't gone in cocky, expecting the fight to be simple. But even so. It's better to play things as preferred."

"Huh," Delta said. "Okay. Still. We can do things the hard way. Up to you."

Rosalie huffed and spurred her feet forward.

She approached the stone protrusion. It was shaped smoothly, and with a slight curve. It didn't resemble a cock in an accurate sense; and it was many times smaller than Zoey's absurd length. But no skill to help me along. It was still a large object; she'd have to lower herself gently. And Zoey has the lubricant.

"Use your spit," Delta suggested. "It's something. It'll start you off, until—you know."

Until Rosalie's own excitement slickened the stone. "I don't need your advice, thank you."

"You're kind of an asshole, you know that?"

Rosalie ignored her. "Don't watch me."

"Seriously? You just said we need to get used to this. And it's my body. Hardly something I'm not used to seeing."

She had two good points. Rosalie needed to move past her embarrassment over sex. She almost pushed the point … but swallowed her protests. Whatever. Who cares if she watches? This is the life I've chosen. Perverted shards and constant erotic stimulation. If it meant faster advancement, Rosalie would do it.

And a smaller, hidden part of her accepted this situation for a different reason. Maybe I want her to watch, to have her eyes crawling over me as I pleasure myself. Even if she's annoying.

Rosalie knelt down in front of the curved stone in front of the door, eying it. It's barely going to fit. It'd stretch her apart. It wouldn't be the first time she'd have something inside her, but Rosalie hadn't been a person who had pleasured herself often. Obviously. She'd been rather focused on other matters, growing up.

She spat into her palm and worked the impromptu lubricant into the rounded top of the obscene phallic relic. She couldn't believe she was doing this. Fucking a stone protrusion so they could make their way through the shard faster.

Why was she so excited at the thought? Not that she showed it on her face. She had a spectator. She needed to maintain the composed air she'd always cultivated; a d'Celestin would never be titillated at having to fill herself up with a stone toy. She'd treat it like the reluctant, necessary task it was.

"Oh," Delta said. "Wait."

"What?" Rosalie demanded. Her cheeks were blazing.

"You should put your plug in." The steel adornment appeared in her hand. "Since I've got the rings, now." She tweaked her nipples. "And my body's the one that can take it. You'll want to start 'building up energy' for the boss."

Rosalie looked at the item with dismay.

"Need some help?" Delta asked.

"I can handle it myself, thank you," she shot at her. Delta handed her the item.

"Use your fingers first. Then the dildo, it's smaller. Work your way up."

Rosalie stared at the thick plug in her hand.

Just do what needs to be done.

She used her saliva to lubricate her backdoor, then, with a vague thought of, I can't believe I'm doing this in front of her, slid a finger in. She bit down on a lewd noise.

At least this wasn't the first time she'd had something down there. Zoey's tongue and fingers had very thoroughly explored her, already.

She worked her way up to two fingers, then three. Once she'd properly relaxed to the idea, Rosalie shuffled overtop the dildo. The plug was larger, so, as Delta had suggested, she'd use the dildo to stretch herself in preparation. Her knees scuffed against the rough stone floor.

She gripped the thick object and aligned her lower half to it. Somewhere in front of her—in her peripheral—she sensed Delta watching. Why am I facing her? Instead of the door? It seems like I'm trying to put on a show. Obviously, it had been a thoughtless coincidence.

Because that was what Rosalie was.

Thoughtless.

A person prone to not considering every implication of her actions.

Who am I kidding? the exasperated, disregarded part of her brain said.

Rosalie lowered her only slightly-relaxed second hole onto the object, feeling it bump against her and rub against that sensitive opening.

"Take it easy," Delta said. "Don't hurt yourself." The words weren't concerned—they were taunting.

"Shut up. Let me concentrate."

Delta just grinned.

Rosalie gasped as the bulbous tip finally slipped in; it spread her tight hole open. So … so tight. She worked through the pain—and pleasure—of being widened. Rosalie knew her body wouldn't have been able to handle it, but Delta's was used to this; her tight backdoor spread to accommodate the large invader, and finally, with a pleasurable pressure, it popped all the way in.

"There you go," Delta smirked. "Well done. Work yourself a bit, then try the plug."

"I said stop talking."

Rosalie gently lifted herself, then lowered, her squeezing hole sliding up and down the stone length. She did it a few times, letting her hole relax to the painful girth. It was easier than she'd thought it'd be.

Finally, after a minute of lewd thrusting, she let it pop out of her.

Time for the plug.

Even having prepared herself, the flare of the enormous toy felt like she was being torn apart. She whined as she pushed it through, forcing herself to keep going even when it hurt, and finally the pressure disappeared all at once, the rounded object bursting into her. Her hole wrapped around the skinny base.

"That didn't seem so bad," Delta said.

Rosalie could seriously do without the commentary.

Or maybe I like it.

She lined herself up to the stone dildo, but her pussy, this time. This was just in my asshole. She hesitated; she hadn't even considered that. Too late now, though. It still needed to be pleasured. She cleaned it off best she could with her hands, not that it had been dirty.

The idea shouldn't excite her. So … lewd.

It was a close fit. Rosalie had to wiggle her hips and work in her natural lubricant to make it fit. But eventually, with a delightfully satisfying stretch, the stone dildo entered her fully; she buried herself all the way into its impressive length and girth, her ass hitting the ground. Her other filled-up hole squeezed against the plug.

Like with the plug, her pussy had taken the dildo easier than she'd thought she would.

Because this wasn't her body. Delta's pussy was more used to entry than Rosalie's. Not that she meant that in a disparaging way; it was simply a fact. Rosalie didn't consider promiscuity a bad thing. Only pervertedness. Which were two distinctly separate traits.

Despite her best efforts, a moan was wrenched from Rosalie's lips at having her insides stuffed full of stone and metal.

"That's an embarrassing noise," Delta said. "Unbecoming for an old blood, don't you think?"

Rosalie opened her eyes to a smirking Delta. Or smirking Rosalie. Seeing her own lips curled in amusement felt vaguely ironic; like it really was Rosalie looking down on herself.

"S-Shut up," Rosalie gasped.

"Nice stutter. It feels good, then? Maybe I should've gone first. I wonder if you would've been able to take it."

Her body, Delta meant. Because it was Delta's body—worn by Rosalie—whose hips pumped up and down, taking in the stone's length and filling her up. More than the physical feeling of having her pussy spread open by a girthy object, it was Delta's belittling smile that had her insides squirming with pleasure. "Feels good?" Rosalie gasped out. "Hardly. I'm only doing what's necessary."

"I wonder, do you believe that, or is it for my sake?"

Was Rosalie that obvious? Delta was the second person to see through her with shameful ease. Maybe the truth of the matter was that Rosalie just wasn't hard to see through.

"I'm not going to judge you for helping yourself along," Delta said. "Rub yourself, idiot. Or I'll come over and do it myself. You're making it take longer. Aren't we trying to be fast about things?"

Delta had provided enough of a plausible excuse for Rosalie's hand to go between her legs and start rubbing at her clit. She bounced up and down the thick object, feeling herself be spread open over and over. Imagine it's Zoey's cock. That's what you want, isn't it? To have it pressing all the way up your stomach? Further? Maker, that thing goes almost to my breasts, when it's laid across me. Rosalie's breathing accelerated as she gyrated and thrusted against the shard's makeshift toy. In her other hole, a plug of metal jostled around. The sensation was incredible. Hurry it up. We're trying to get a move on. And Delta's watching. You shouldn't be providing any more show than is necessary. Fast is good.

Fast is good. Fast is good. Rosalie's hand rubbed rapidly, a radiating heat building in her stomach. Her lips opened as she panted out air. Why is this so exciting? It surely wasn't because Delta was watching her. The other girl was unendingly annoying; Rosalie was turned off for how little she wanted to be watched by such an insufferable teammate. And the indignity. Delta had some idea of what Rosalie was, if not exactly. She knew her pedigree, in part. For someone like Rosalie to be bouncing up and down, pleasuring herself on the thick cock of a shard. The shame was indescribable. Rosalie was drowning in it.

And drowning in something else.

The lewd, whining noises escaping Rosalie's lips became louder. She stopped paying attention to Delta. She collapsed forward into the floor, elbows supporting her, as she thrusted desperately against the stone phallus. She imagined it was Zoey's cock thrusting into her. It felt big enough, honestly. To think her dark-haired companion was more than twice as large …

Her lower body spasmed, and she agonizingly kept thrusting, the pleasure building, building, building. The idea that Delta was watching only helped to bring her mind-melting euphoria higher.

It wracked through her body, and she lay whining on the floor, her pussy convulsing against its invader. Behind her, the grinding noise of a door opening filled the air. Rosalie was only half aware of it. Waves of pleasure washed through her. She couldn't think.

It took a moment to come back to her senses.

"Nice job, old blood," Delta said, a smirk in her voice. "Your kind really does work fast."

Chapter 30

Chapter Text

"Come on," Zoey said. "You're saying you're not even curious?"

"No. I'm not."

"I know you're lying. You're me."

"Clearly not."

"It's the same thing as masturbating."

"Hardly."

"Isn't it?"

"Pretty sure masturbating doesn't include cock going into a pussy," Not-Zoey sneered. "Honestly, with how much you've got down there, do it to yourself!"

Zoey paused.

"Oh my god," Not-Zoey said. "Not actually. What's wrong with you?"

"I'm not! I was just." She shrugged. "Never thought about it." She'd considered her ability to suck on herself, but never … putting it into herself in the more traditional sense.

"Would it even work?" Not-Zoey asked.

Zoey blinked. She considered it. "It's still a bit flexible when it's hard," Zoey said. "So, uh, maybe? I think it'd be easier to get it when it's only half-hard. And then, um, when it filled up, it'd …"

A long silence.

"That's kind of hot," Not-Zoey said. "Try it."

"I'm not trying it! What the hell? You're supposed to be the not-perverted one."

"We're the same person, dumbass."

"So you want to see me fuck myself, but not—"

"You fuck yourself?" Not-Zoey sneered. "This is getting old."

Okay, maybe they were the same person; she was taunting Zoey in the same way Zoey would've taunted Not-Zoey.

"I'm not putting my own cock into my own pussy," Zoey said flatly. "I'm not that perverted."

"Irony? Hello?"

"Shut up."

"Also—yet," Not-Zoey said.

"Huh? What do you mean, yet?"

"Please. We know where all this," she waved around, as if to indicate their lives in general, "is leading. You're trying to fuck a clone of yourself—you think you won't play around, at some point? I know for a fact you've thought of sucking yourself off."

"That—that was just a thought. I never actually planned to." She didn't know why she was defending herself to herself; the only reason Not-Zoey knew that tidbit was because it had happened before their consciousness-splitting. And hell, it was normal to wonder what her cock would feel like in her own mouth. To most people, it just wasn't possible; they didn't have fourteen inches. Lost in the haze of lust, anyone would try it. And Zoey hadn't even, yet. That made her less perverted than average. So, there. Proof.

"You're not fucking me," Not-Zoey said, as if coralling them back to topic.

Zoey collapsed into the bed and huffed. "Well, what else are we doing until our saviors arrive?"

Not-Zoey was quiet for a bit. It had been a rhetorical question, so the eventual answer surprised Zoey.

"I guess … I don't want you inside me … but we could still have some fun."

Zoey blinked and sat up. Not-Zoey blushed under her questioning gaze.

"I'm just saying, it's practically masturbation, isn't it?" Not-Zoey said, contradicting her own stance from a minute earlier. "And … since we brought it up … I've been wondering what it tastes like. Sucking my cock isn't as embarrassing as sucking … yours."

Zoey almost pointed out how that made no sense, before realizing Not-Zoey had offered to give her a blowjob. Her cock started to swell with blood, quickly growing to full mast. "Not remotely as embarrassing," Zoey lied in agreement. "And it gives us something to do."

"Right," Not-Zoey said. "Gotta pass the time somehow."

They stared at each other, blushing. It's me, for fuck's sake. Why is there so much tension?

Zoey shuffled against the bed until she was leaned against the backboard, pillows supporting her. "Set your own pace."

Not-Zoey hesitantly crawled over to her; she'd been seated on the opposite end. My own tits shouldn't be turning me on. But they were so perfectly shaped, and all Zoey's monkey-brain registered was a cute girl—not herself, even if it was—shuffling across the bed toward her, naked body fully on display, with her eyes locked to Zoey's cock.

Not-Zoey lined up to Zoey, situating her legs across Zoey's own. Zoey had an excellent view of her own pussy. Her cock pulsed. I really want to know what it feels like.

I 'm such a pervert.

Not-Zoey's hands quested out, wrapping around Zoey's member. It twitched in happiness.

Not-Zoey laughed, suddenly. "You know," she said, "I think this is maybe a moment for self-reflection. We should talk about us."

"Us?"

"Delta brought it up. Why don't you use your other part? You know. What God gave you."

Zoey couldn't help but hunch forward in defensiveness, even if the person asking the question was herself. "Dunno. Just haven't."

"Let's be honest with ourselves," Not-Zoey said. Her hands wrapped around Zoey's cock were highly distracting. "Is it because you like topping? And it feels more natural to top with this?" She squeezed Zoey as if to emphasize what she meant.

"Where'd all this confidence come from?" Zoey asked, breath growing labored at Not-Zoey's hands. A second ago, Not-Zoey had barely been able to look at her straight. Now, she was stroking up and down and interrogating her.

"Dunno. Ask yourself. We're the same person, remember?" She grinned.

Zoey was silent for a while. It was a heavy question; and the pleasuring of her lower half—by her own long, slim hands—made it hard to think. "I … that might be it?"

"I don't think it is."

Zoey sighed. "Maybe it's part of the reason."

"Is it because it's overwhelming?" Not-Zoey suggested. "And … using both at once would make you feel weird. Different?" The words were as much admissions as anything else. Not-Zoey was speaking Zoey's mind for her. "But we should get used to it. It could be a lot of fun."

Another silence.

"It probably would," Zoey sighed.

"You're not weird because you have a cock now. Embrace it. You're more than you were before, not less."

"This is a little too … self-motivational for my liking."

"Some corniness is in line. I'm helping us work past this." A pause. "And speaking from the person who lost it … having a cock is awesome. I already miss it. You're lucky you have both—the question is, why don't you take advantage of it?"

"They've never shown interest with … " Zoey didn't need to finish the statement.

Not-Zoey gave her an unimpressed look. "Delta did, and you shot her down. Rosalie hasn't, and that's because she's insightful. She probably noticed we're weird about it." Not-Zoey shrugged. "Or maybe she's timid. She's not the sort to initiate."

Which was ironic, considering Rosalie's demeanor otherwise. For being so confident and assertive, she really was such a bottom.

"Tell you what," Not-Zoey said. "We can make a deal."

"Deal?"

"If you let me do what I want to you … I'll let you do what you want to me."

Zoey digested the words, and her heart started slamming. "Meaning?"

"Let me play with both parts of you … and …"

"'I'll get to …?"

"Fuck me," Not-Zoey said, rolling her eyes. "Yes. This is a moment for personal growth. Pretty sure I'm dissolving into the ether after this is done, so what's it matter how embarrassing it would be?"

They both paused. Like usual, Not-Zoey's casual disregard of her situation was off putting.

"What do you say?" Not-Zoey asked.

Zoey bit her lip. "I …"

A teasing grin. "Come on. Don't want to know what it's like? Your own tight little pussy wrapped around your cock? The noises you make when you bully yourself to climax?"

Zoey laughed. "Fuck. I see why Rosalie likes it." The dirty talk was pretty nice. And it did a good job at working Zoey's nerve up.

"Well?"

"Okay. I … yeah. Deal. Fine."

Not-Zoey scooted an inch closer. One of the hands she'd been using to jerk Zoey went lower; the other, higher up, to her cock tip, where she rubbed up and down, jerking off only the head.

Not-Zoey's digits stroked at her in a way Zoey hadn't experienced in a long time—or what felt like a long time. Her hips squirmed at the sensation of having both sensitive spots pleasured at once. And the fucking buttplug is still in. So three sensitive spots at once. It was … a lot.

Not necessarily in a bad way.

Having this done to her by herself—a clone, but still—made it easier. And having talked it out, too. Not-Zoey's fingers played between Zoey's lower lips even as her cock pulsed in pleasure from her other hand's jerking motions.

"Ready?" Not-Zoey asked.

"Guess so."

Not-Zoey pressed her middle two fingers forward, and she sank into Zoey's slick insides. Zoey sucked a breath in. It was hardly an alien sensation, like the first time Zoey had played with her cock. But both at once … was definitely new.

"Wow," Zoey said. "That's, um."

"Seems fun," Not-Zoey said, grinning up at her. Both hands worked diligently, one curling and thrusting, the other gripping hard and jerking up and down. "Once you get used to it, seems like you're in for some serious fun. Do you think they cum at the same time? Or separate?"

"Feels, um, feels like separate." The two coaxing of her erogenous zones were happening at different speeds. Her cock was reaching climax faster. "Slow down up top, if we're trying to sync them."

Not-Zoey listened, working more diligently at her bottom than on Zoey's length. Zoey closed her eyes and let herself be pleasured, throwing her head back into the pillows. Unsurprisingly, the idea it was herself thrusting her fingers and curling them around inside Zoey's insides aided her in the growing heat. The more-familiar—or less?—climax started to build. Fuck. It feels so good. Why was I afraid of this?

"Make sure we get it right," Not-Zoey murmured. "I want to see you melt. What's your status?"

"Y-You can start going up top, again."

Not-Zoey worked away. Zoey was briefly appreciative of her—her own?—skills. She'd really picked up a thing or two with how to work fingers. No wonder she'd had Rosalie in a blushing, incoherent mess. The things Not-Zoey's fingers were doing inside Zoey's pussy was totally unfair.

"Here it comes," Zoey breathed. "Oh, fuck." Her lower body was wiggling side-to-side of its own accord. "Lower, first. Then—then top is ready."

Not-Zoey listened. Only when Zoey's pussy started to spasm did she finally finish off Zoey's cock.

Two simultaneous orgasms crashed through her, melting Zoey's brain. She lost herself to the sensation. She whined and gasped as her body shook, then, with a thrusting-up of her hips, she emptied herself into the air. Not-Zoey's stroking hands worked out thick ropes of Zoey's baby batter. Her lower body spasmed too, clenching against still-curling fingers. Not-Zoey held eye contact with Zoey through the whole twitching, shaking mess. Why are we such a whore for that? Eye contact made things so much better.

Zoey collapsed in a sweaty mess against the pillows. She twitched with the aftershocks of such an intense double-crescendo.

Not-Zoey's fingers slid from inside her. She raised them to her mouth and tasted the juice clinging to her digits, then sighed in pleasure. Zoey's cock twitched as the display.

"See? Fun."

"Little … more than fun …" Zoey breathed.

Not-Zoey cuddled into Zoey. Zoey wrapped her arms around her, snuggling in too. They basked in each other for a few minutes.

"This feels oddly metaphorical," Zoey laughed.

By the snort Not-Zoey released, she assumed she'd had the same thought.

"Damn," Not-Zoey said. "Now it's your turn."

"Now it's my turn," Zoey mumbled happily. "Just give me a second. Let her recharge. I want to enjoy this."

Chapter 31

Chapter Text

Zoey was lining her cock up to Not-Zoey's entrance when the bedroom door burst open.

Both her and Not-Zoey's head pivoted to their arrivals—Delta and Rosalie—and Zoey stayed frozen for a long, suspended moment. Rosalie and Delta stared, speechless.

"I, uh, can explain," Zoey said.

Delta looked at Zoey, cock laid out across Zoey's clone, just about to thrust in, and said, horrified, "Oh my gods. You can't be serious."

Rosalie, on her part, burst out laughing.

It was two highly uncharacteristic reactions. Zoey's face flushed even as Not-Zoey scrambled from underneath her, pulling the blankets up to cover herself.

Zoey sat back down, cock still hard, and more mortified than she might have ever been in her life. Why did they have to walk in now? Before she'd even got to feel what Not-Zoey's—her own—insides were like … all the shame of being caught, but none of the payoff. The worst possible time. Fate conspired against her.

"Honestly, you go, dude," Rosalie said. "I'd have done the same."

"The shard swapped our bodies," Delta said flatly. "I'm Rosalie. She's Delta."

Zoey absorbed the announcement. It explained their reactions. And seeing how body-play (a term Zoey invented on the spot) was clearly the theme of this shard, it made sense.

"The shard cloned me," Zoey said.

"We've noticed," Rosalie in Delta's body hissed. "Now stop trying to fuck yourself and stand up. It's time to get moving."

"It was her idea," Not-Zoey said.

Rosalie's glare pivoted. "And you! What do we even do with you? One was enough."

"Think she's a trap?" Delta in Rosalie's body asked. "Good thing we got here in time. Bet you slip inside, she eats you with her pussy, or some shit."

Zoey paused, glancing at Not-Zoey, both their eyebrows raised. "No, I don't think that's it."

"Well, why else?"

"Who knows anything about this shard," Rosalie growled. "Stand up! We're moving." She seemed exceedingly flustered for having caught Zoey. Which made sense. Also, it was super weird seeing Rosalie's embarrassed reactions on Delta, who had previously been so unruffled when it came to sex. And the other way around, Delta's irreverent reactions on Rosalie's normally controlled face.

Zoey—despite all the shenanigans—briefly appreciated Delta's naked body. Like she had expected, Zoey wasn't the only one who had her inventory confiscated; both Rosalie and Delta had too. Delta's curves were even more generous than she'd expected, and she'd expected a lot—she'd noted how tightly her leather armor had clung, and leather armor had a tendency to conceal. Fuck me. Delta's tits were …

Well, she had a nice pair, without being crude about things.

"Ogle me more, will you?" Rosalie seethed.

Shit. That 's Rosalie in there. Don't forget.

"Just coming to terms with the, uh, situation," Zoey lied.

"Meant nothing by it," Not-Zoey added.

They glanced at each other, then laughed.

Of course she was staring, too. She 's me.

Zoey and Not-Zoey shuffled out of bed. Not-Zoey reluctantly released the bed sheets covering her. Zoey took note of Rosalie staring at Not-Zoey distinctly cock-lacking crotch (which, what a phrase), before tearing her eyes away. Just as surprised as I was. She wondered which way Rosalie preferred her. She definitely seemed to like Zoey's extra equipment, but would she have liked Zoey more, without?

Stop being insecure, she scolded herself. Even if Rosalie's eyes did seem to be gravitating to Not-Zoey. It's just the novelty.

"To think we were rushing here, and … and you were doing this," Rosalie fumed. "I was … I was …"

"She was worried sick," Delta finished, smirking. "It was kind of cute."

Rosalie glared at Delta, then Zoey, then stalked from the room.

Zoey felt like an asshole, even if she hadn't done anything wrong. She'd stayed in the spawn-room exactly as instructed. What did the fact she'd been about to have fun with her clone have to do with anything?

"Man, I wish I was in your position," Delta said. "I'd be so balls-deep inside myself, right now. Sure you two don't want to finish what you started? And can I watch?"

"No," Not-Zoey said. "I shouldn't—I can't—the moment's passed." She blushed as she jogged forward to catch up with Rosalie.

Delta watched with raised eyebrows. Zoey took note of how her eyes latched on Not-Zoey's ass.

"She's kind of a prude," Zoey sighed. "It took a lot of convincing to even get to that point."

"So you're only perverted when you have a cock?" Delta asked amusedly. "What's up with that?"

"No, just—" Zoey raised her hands in a 'I don't know' gesture. "Dunno. Guess I wouldn't want to take this thing inside me, either."

"She seemed pretty ready for it."

"It's complicated."

Delta rolled her eyes. "C'mon. Better catch up."

They followed after.

"So we've got a party of four, now," Delta said. "How's that change things? Zoey-Two, are you bonded to us, like Zoey is? Can you Bolster?"

"Should I try?"

"Yeah. Knowing is worth wasting a bit of mana." A second later, after Not-Zoey had done as instructed, Delta said, "Oh, yeah. You're definitely linked up." She flexed her hands back and forth. "Wow. That's intense. Not a small boost, is it?"

"It's quite significant," Rosalie said shortly. Her mood hadn't improved, and Zoey wasn't entirely sure how to fix it—what to say or do—or what she'd even done wrong in the first place.

"So we've got one each," Delta said to Rosalie. "Which Zoey do you want?"

Rosalie's eyes flicked between them. Rather than answering, she said, "I'm still not sure what to make of this."

"Join the club," Not-Zoey said. Both Zoey and Delta nodded; it was obviously a strange situation to be in.

"Can we even trust you?" Rosalie asked Not-Zoey.

"Am I infiltrating the group?" Not-Zoey asked sarcastically. "Shit, does it matter how I answer?"

"We can trust her," Zoey said.

"Your opinion doesn't count for anything," Not-Zoey snapped, making Zoey blink. "Or should I say, our opinion? We trust people too easily."

"Huh," Delta said. "So she's the smart Zoey."

"Hey," Zoey protested.

Rosalie rubbed her temples. "We'll trust her until given reason otherwise. Them. Keep an eye on both, we don't know who is who. How can we know for certain the dungeon isn't trying to trick us—perhaps Zoey Two is Zoey Prime."

"Zoey Prime is so much cooler of a name," Not-Zoey complained. "Yet I get 'Zoey-Two'? So not fair."

"My head hurts enough," Delta said. "No more name shit. Who's pairing with which Zoey? We have two noobies to protect, now, not one."

Rosalie frowned. Zoey could guess why. Her initial threat appraisal of the dungeon had been with a single useless member to guard. Now, there were two, and the dynamics had changed. And though Zoey—herself, Zoey-Prime—was probably the 'real' Zoey, she suspected Rosalie didn't want to take the risk. It could be either of them; from her and Delta's perspective, as she had said, the shard could be trying to fool them.

Hell, it could be neither of them. Or Delta and Rosalie could be fake. Seriously, who knew?

"You need to stay focused on dealing damage," Rosalie said, coming to a decision. "I'll guard both. The plan hasn't changed."

"You sure?"

"It's not objectively a downside. Her reactions are slow, but her spells," she paused, "spell is potent enough, and versatile."

Spell. Zoey hadn't ever learned a second. With how fast Rosalie had set out, their day had been packed. Having some time between the shard to become better acquainted with her spell casting abilities would have been nice. But Rosalie had goals, self-set quotas to meet.

There were so many things Zoey wanted to do—alchemy, spellcasting, and even explore the city and meet people, explore the culture of an alien world. Zoey was definitely dedicated to sticking by Rosalie's side, but she wished they had more room to breathe.

"An extra party member's always useful," Delta agreed. "Not like the shard will adjust its difficulty because of her."

Glad to know I'm not literally a negative, then, Zoey thought dryly.

As Zoey had learned to expect from the first shard she and Rosalie had cleared, progression wasn't all lewdness. She, Not-Zoey, Rosalie, and Delta trekked through the shard—this one had much more of a 'dungeon' feel than the old cathedral's hallways—fighting off monsters.

They were faster, and more dangerous, than the first shard's monsters. As expected. The first shard had been first advancement, and this one, second. The gaps between advancements were supposedly pretty large, and grew steeper with every iteration.

After all, to go from merely empowered—but all things considered, not far from mundane—to a person who, borrowing that evocative phrase Delta had used, could 'carve through a city' at ninth advancement like Enzo d'Celestin, meant that each gap came with a hefty increase in power.

Getting meaningful use out of her ice spikes turned out to be a fruitless endeavor. She'd struggled to weave them through in a first advancement shard, and now, having moved to a second advancement without practice, Zoey landed maybe one in six—and flung less of the spells to begin with, because she only shot them when she saw a reasonable opening … which happened far less frequently, with how fast the things were moving.

She had Pressure Point, at least, which allowed her to identify the weak areas of the various monsters they ran into, and call them out to her teammates. So she provided passive benefits, even if she couldn't contribute to the fight as much as she wanted.

The monsters were strange, much odder than the first shard's. Fitting with the theme—suspected theme, rather—the creatures were vaguely designed after 'reflections'. They crawled from mirrors, gangly, shadow-like creatures who—though the opportunity to study faces was rare—had features just close enough to their own that Zoey could recognize Rosalie, or Delta, or herself in their unsettling visages as they clawed forward to attack them.

Also like the first shard, Zoey liked the perverted parts much better than cutting through shadow-images of themselves part.

The fights were quick, violent, and, truthfully, not overly threatening. Delta's addition—and having two Zoeys to Bolster her party members—meant they made short work of most encounters. Zoey took the opportunity to improve her reactions, combat skills, and intuition for how shards worked. She would prefer to be a meaningful contributor to her party as soon as possible.

She might have to bring the topic up to Rosalie, truth told. A break between the next shard, an opportunity to practice, would go a long way. She was in a bit of a conundrum when it came to that. She knew Rosalie wouldn't want to. But especially if they advanced to even more difficult shards, Zoey wouldn't be able to do anything—reduced from 'very little', like she was now.

Eventually, they worked through the hallways and to the next 'point of interest'.

The next obstacle.

"Holy shit," Delta said, summing up everyone's thoughts. "You're kidding, right?"

Chapter 32

Chapter Text

A/N: Please be advised, this chapter contains fetish content. For those not interested in reading certain material, here's the tags: [Extreme Insertions/Distension]

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Delta said.

"There's—I can't—is this a joke?" Rosalie all but shrilled.

Or 'I all but shrilled'? Delta thought. She glanced Rosalie's way, and woah, it was, like usual, weird, seeing her own nose wrinkled in disgust, her own cheeks blazing at the sight laid in front of them.

Even Delta would admit her cheeks were coloring a bit. The last trap—the one Rosalie had so enthusiastically thrown herself on, despite her flimsy pretenses—had been downright vanilla. A dildo inlaid into the floor? She couldn't imagine something less risqué.

And while this trap wasn't wholly different—it was still a dildo, and the intent of 'pleasure me to progress' was still obvious enough—it was a particular adjective that changed everything.

'Big'.

Nah, that didn't do it justice.

'Giant'.

Let's try one more time.

'Gargantuan'.

The protrusion—not stone, this time, but some kind of white, slimy, translucent gel material—was at least two feet tall. No, that wasn't a joke. It would literally reach up to her chest if it went inside her.

And sitting on a pedestal to the right, a vial of blue liquid.

[Potion of Stretchy Insides: Allows impossible insertions. Don't think too hard about anatomy.

"Good god," Zoey said. "It can't—really? It expects us to …?"

It said something that even Delta's perverted, amnesia-ridden teammate was at a loss for words for this challenge.

"I know I said that when it was my turn, I wanted something a little more daring," Delta grinned, "but I didn't think the shard would take the request so seriously."

"Your turn?" Zoey-Two asked.

Delta glanced her way. Right, she thought, a smile sneaking across her lips. They don't know, yet. "Rosalie took the first obstacle," she said casually.

Two Zoey's heads pivoted to Rosalie, who blushed, then desperately pretended she'd had no such reaction.

"She did, did she?" Zoey asked, grinning at her.

"I engaged with the shard how it intended," she said, sticking her chin up in the air. "It's called being a professional."

Gods, she's so funny. Delta might not be friends with the stick-up-her-ass old blood, but being around her was hilarious.

Delta bet she knew why she acted like she did. Old blood like her, she'd been crammed up in training ranges her entire life—and protecting her reputation. Especially this one. She had the air of royalty about her. And royalty for Wayfarers meant one thing—high-advancement parents. Real high. Prominent officers in a Highguild.

And I got to see her bouncing up and down a dildo, just twenty minutes ago. Delta knew how to hide her arousal—funny enough, having a high sex drive meant she could mask it, had learned how to—and the sight of Rosalie pleasuring herself had definitely done something for her. For a brief moment, Delta had appreciated the annoying blonde. She really knows how to make some cute noises.

Her thoughts were wandering. She had a rather 'big' task to come to terms with.

Delta walked up to the comically sized dick. She ran a hand against the rubbery, see-through white material. It had come pre-lubricated, and it glistened in the light, the wall torches flickering in the background. She withdrew her hand and rubbed her fingers together, watching the sticky material cling between her digits.

Maker. The size of it. It would literally go into my chest.

'Don't think too hard about anatomy'. The Scribe must've thought Herself hilarious, drafting up the potion's item description. Who knew the gods had a sense of humor?

Delta's heart rate picked up, staring at the object and imagining it filling her up. 'Filling her up'. Literally, this time, not just a loose application of the phrase. It would stuff her so comically silly her stomach would be bulging. She'd be wrapped around it like …

She paused. Like a giant condom-person. The idea almost had Delta laughing. Well, that's a gross piece of imagery, if I've ever imagined one.

And kind of hot, even if it's weird.

Nobody'd ever accused Delta of being squeamish. Or vanilla.

Though this … it was a bit outside of even her preferences, or comfort-level, she'd admit.

Not that it'd stop her. Delta lived for new experiences. She couldn't be happier with this arrangement, however much she might be the tiniest bit hesitant. Because how couldn't she be hesitant? Look at the damn thing.

"You don't have to—" Zoey started.

"Oh, fuck off," Delta said instantly. "If I didn't want to, I'd tell you. Don't baby me. I'm not yours to protect."

Zoey laughed, which brought a quirk to Delta's lips. "Right," Zoey said. "My bad."

Not everyone liked her blunt nature; Delta knew that a hundred times over. That Zoey not only didn't mind, but seemed to enjoy it, was kind of nice. Because she couldn't help herself. Words had always barreled from her mouth without stopping by a checkpoint station, no matter how hard she tried. It had gotten her in a lot of trouble over the years. And lost her friends, a few times. She hoped Zoey wasn't added to that list.

Delta walked forward, scooped up the potion, and downed it, letting her impulsive nature guide her. Don't think too hard. I'll just psyche myself out.

"I'm jealous," Delta said amusedly. "You three are about to get such a show." She didn't think too hard about what she was doing as she sat down behind the giant dildo and scooted up to it. The thing pressed around her thighs, almost hard to fit between her legs. Its girth was as absurd as its height.

She tried wrapping both hands around and failed. The attempt wasn't even close. It was thicker than her hands were tall, even.

"A show," Zoey said. "Yeah. That's, uh, accurate."

Delta briefly noted how Zoey's cock was at attention—because obviously, considering the circumstances. Funny enough, she noted that in comparison to this monster, Zoey's own giant cock suddenly seemed a lot more palatable.

Allows impossible insertions, Delta thought, looking at the thing that would be stirring up her insides in the short future. No joke.

"Even with the potion, this thing might kill me." Her apprehension was growing, now that she had scooted up to the dildo. Its cold bulk pressed into her, and exactly as she'd predicted, the tip of it reached all the way up between her breasts, above her sternum. It'll be bumping my heart around. Seriously, what the hell? Where would all her organs go?

Don't worry about the anatomy. Delta's mouth opened as she began to pant. Fuck me, why is that so hot? Maybe she was more into this idea than she'd thought. Apprehensive as hell, sure. But she was excited to find out what it felt like.

She stood. She had only sat down and scooted forward to get a sense of what she was in for. Maybe she shouldn't have.

"Okay. Well. This ought to be fun."

She lined herself up. She barely had to bend her knees before the dildo's enormous cock head was rubbing against her pussy. The object barely managed to squeeze between her thighs. She was struck for the tenth time about the insanity of this. If it barely fit between her legs, how would it fit inside?

Magic. A potion. But still.

Before she started to lower herself—and begin her should-be impossible task—she glanced up at her spectators.

Her lips curled in amusement. All three of them, even Rosalie, had wide eyes, and were leaned forward in anticipation. Rosalie's cheeks were flushed, and she seemed incredulous as much as she was aroused. Zoey—both of them—on the other hand, had a look of fascination, and something predatory. She's as excited as me. She wants to see me wrapped around this thing.

Well. Delta guessed she'd indulge that wish.

She breathed in, bracing herself, then lowered down.

The enormous toy pressed into her pussy, and for a brief moment, she thought this really would be impossible, despite the potion's claimed effect. Because she couldn't even get in a position to start spreading herself open; the side of the object, scaled up to such enormous size, meant she was practically pressing into a flat object.

But after some finagling, some wiggling of her hips, she found the position that finally let it sink in.

The first tiny portion, at least. The thinner, tapering part of the cock head. Even that much was … a lot. The sensation was indescribable. The potion masked the pain—and allowed the insertion in the first place—but it did nothing to mask the feeling of being spread apart by an object the girth of her head.

Delta's pussy opened up, accepting its invader. Delta was leaning forward a bit—she was standing, because of its size—so she could look down and watch it happen. The sight was … incredibly erotic, and especially because it was Rosalie's tight pussy this violation was happening to, not Delta's.

A moan wrenched from her lips as she was torn in two—or that was it felt like—but Delta kept lowering herself. Her insides were stuffed completely full, more than full, by the enormous cock.

It filled her up, inch by incredible inch, and just kept going, kept invading her insides as she sank lower. She placed a hand on her lower stomach and felt the skin bulge and expand—felt the cock head fill her out—as she went lower.

Her hand followed the toy up her stomach as it squeezed into her insides. It's in my stomach. Her normally flat, toned tummy was distended in a clear outline of an enormous cock. Her belly button was pushed out by it. Delta paused, only halfway down, and rubbed her hand against the massive protrusion. I can feel the bumps of the cock head. She traced it in fascination.

"How's it feel?" Zoey asked.

Delta blinked and looked up; she'd almost forgotten she was being watched. The feeling of her entire body wrapping around a giant dildo was … pretty attention-consuming.

"Amazing," Delta murmured. "I can't even put it into words. Come feel."

Zoey didn't need to be convinced, as Delta hadn't expected she would. She approached and got down on her knees, and her hand replaced Delta's own. She rubbed around on Delta's distended stomach, feeling the outlines of the toy. The friction of Zoey's hand rubbing it around inside her was incredible. Delta felt like she was melting with ecstasy. Her pussy squeezed and squirmed against the toy.

"Keep going." Zoey's eyes were dark with lust. Delta could see pre-cum had started dripping from her cock. She's really enjoying the show.

Delta obliged. Zoey's hand followed the bulge up her stomach … up her rib cage … then between Delta's breasts as she engulfed the toy in its entirety, her ass hitting the base of the flared toy. She looked down at her body, where a cylindrical pillar had invaded her all the way through. I can't believe this. This is insane. And she'd never felt anything like it. She wanted more, somehow. For it to go literally all the way through, so it bulged into her throat and out her mouth. Not possible, she hazily thought. But this shouldn't be, so imagine if it was.

Zoey's hand rubbed circles around the toy, massaging the protrusion in Delta's chest. "I … literally can't describe how hot this is. Do you like it?"

"M-More than like it." Delta couldn't think. Her mind was hot sludge. Her entire body pulsed with desire—the need to have this thing moving around inside her. "Let's see how riding this bad boy works."

The trip up was a long one, and the feeling of the giant invader vacating her insides was almost as pleasurable as it was going in. A lewd noise tore from her lips, one she didn't think she'd ever made before. Then back down—and watched again as her body wrapped around the toy a second time.

"That's … that's nice," she panted. "Fuck, that's nice."

"I'm so jealous, right now," Zoey said.

"Gotta be faster, next time."

Zoey smirked.

"Give me a show," Delta said. "It's only fair, considering the one you have." Her eyes flicked to Rosalie. "Come take care of Zoey. Both of them. They need a top-off, anyway." Then, knowing Rosalie—knowing she'd need a prompt, "Let's be efficient about this … break, yeah?"

Rosalie wavered, then uncrossed her arms. Her eyes were glazed over, and her chest was heaving up and down in excitement. Zoey was the one showing blatant interest, but Rosalie … Rosalie was turned on by this too. Who wouldn't be?

"I suppose that's a reasonable request," she murmured.

Chapter 33

Chapter Text

Zoey couldn't believe how turned on she was. Her cock was practically twitching with need, dripping precum in a steady stream.

She watched Delta lift herself up off the ground, her stomach—Rosalie's stomach—flattening out to the hard, toned surface it usually was, then back down, distending her body out as the giant toy stuffed into her. Seeing such a lewd, panting expression on Rosalie's face was driving Zoey wild. Even in the throes of passion Rosalie tried to keep some form of lock on her expressions, but Delta, not at all, and it was Delta wearing her body. She panted heavily, eyes fluttering with pleasure, not masking how much fun she was having in the slightest.

"I'm assuming you want to join in?" Zoey asked Not-Zoey. She'd been hovering to the side, clearly feeling like an outsider. Zoey sympathized with that; it was obvious Rosalie and Delta were doubtful of her, even if they had verbally acknowledged either of them, or neither, could be the 'impostor'.

"Is that fine?"

Zoey looked to Rosalie, who hesitated. Zoey could read what it meant; like usual, not wanting to admit to anything.

"She's fine with it," Zoey smirked. "Two of us taking care of her? It's a fantasy."

"Hmph," Rosalie said.

"Get over here." Zoey was still sitting on her knees, next to Delta as she continued to fill herself up. The whines and moans were highly distracting.

Zoey scooted away, setting up further away from Delta, and in plain view. Delta had asked them to put on a show, and as much fun as playing with Rosalie was, playing with Rosalie while getting to watch Delta's stomach bulge in and out as she impaled herself would be … even better.

Rosalie wandered over and crouched down next to Zoey. Zoey pulled her onto her lap—she squeaked in surprise, somehow never prepared for how Zoey became less gentle when things got going—and Zoey forcefully guided her into sitting in her lap, turned around and facing Delta.

"What's it like, seeing your body do that?" Zoey murmured into her ear. Her cock throbbed against Rosalie's thighs—it was sticking out, between her legs, and Rosalie's wetness had already started to coat it. She was, unsurprisingly, dripping.

"It's obscene," Rosalie said, panting. "I can't believe … I can't …"

"Is it getting you off?"

"Of course not." Rosalie's hips worked back and forth against Zoey's shaft, and it seemed an idle action, something she didn't realize she was doing. "I would never be … turned on … by something like this."

"Now, now," Zoey tutted. "What have I told you about being honest with yourself?"

Not-Zoey knelt down in front Rosalie. "I have a suggestion, if you want it. Where we can all have fun."

Well. Zoey knew herself. Any idea of hers would be … nice. "Go for it."

"Here. Move for a second, Rosie."

Rosalie nodded mutely and did so, even if she seemed disappointed to not be sitting on Zoey's lap—or more accurately, on her cock—anymore.

Not-Zoey shimmied up, then, moving Zoey's cock down, she sat on Zoey's lap so she was facing sideways. "Now join me," she told Rosalie. "One leg under mine, the other over. Like a pretzel."

Zoey watched as the two girls set themselves up. Soon enough, they were both halfway seated on Zoey's lap, pressing their pussies into her cock. Like they were scissoring, but with Zoey between them.

"Now up," Not-Zoey prompted, and Rosalie listened. Two wet pussies slid up Zoey's shaft, a bit awkwardly, but with Not-Zoey guiding Rosalie along, soon enough they were thrusting their hips up and down, sliding themselves against her shaft with wiggling gyrations of their pelvises.

Zoey sighed, leaned back, and tried to decide which sight was more erotic. Rosalie and Not-Zoey—herself—jerking her cock off with their pressed-in pussies, or Delta, watching it happen as she herself was engaged in the most obscene act Zoey had ever seen, her firm body stretched to its maximum as a pillar-sized dildo stuffed her insides.

"Nice suggestion," Zoey said in a massive understatement.

Not-Zoey was biting her lip as she and Rosalie thrusted up and down. "You know, I'm really jealous you're the one who got to keep it. I bet this feels amazing."

"Two cute girls rubbing up and down me? Safe guess."

"Rosie looks like she can't even think."

She and Zoey watched Rosalie. Despite her eager thrustings of her pelvis, she wasn't paying attention to Zoey, or Not-Zoey; her eyes were locked on Delta, her own body being violated, as Delta rode up and down.

"She can't even hear us," Not-Zoey said amusedly.

"And she calls us the pervert."

"Eh. She's right. It's just … all of us are."

Zoey laughed.

For a bit, only squelching, panting, and moaning suffused the air, all four of their party being pleasured in different ways.

"Enjoying the sight, princess?" Delta panted out. "Stare at me more, why don't you?"

It broke her trance. Rosalie's eyes went up from Delta's bulging tummy to meet her gaze. She wet her lips before responding. "Of course not."

"Do you want to be the one here? In my place?"

"No."

"You don't want to have your insides all stirred up, like this?" Delta ran a hand up and down the protruding shaft in her stomach as she rode herself desperately against the giant cock.

"I … I …"

"It's okay. You don't have to say it. It's cuter when you don't."

"Stop … stop inventing things." Rosalie's protests were feeble. If it had just been Zoey here, she thought that explosive honesty of hers would've come out by now; she was plainly horny enough for it. But against Delta, her defenses were holding—flimsy and obviously false as they were.

Zoey had been trying to prevent herself from moving—to let Not-Zoey and Rosalie set the pace with the sliding of their lower halves—but for no discernible reason the next eager slide of their pussies had Zoey's hips bucking. She jostled the two women who were providing their slippery services, and it was like the dam had broken.

"F-Fuck. You two—you feel, you feel—" Zoey jerked spastically up and down, slamming between the tight pressure of their thighs and pussies. "I need to, god, please, I have to. You feel so good. I want to cum."

Zoey wasn't sure if her own break in composure caused it, but in front of her, Delta's entire body started to shake as she spasmed against the enormous dildo stuffed in her. Seeing her cum only whited out Zoey's mind further. She jerked herself up and down with as much force as she could, slapping her hips into Rosalie's and Not-Zoey's asses as their pussies coaxed her cock up and down, their labias spreading and dragging across its length.

Their own efforts picked up, too, hips jerking as they awkwardly tried to lower themselves up and down—it wasn't the easiest position to maintain, especially with Zoey's violent writhing and thrusting beneath them.

"Fuck, fuck, please, please." Zoey spat obscenities as her stomach clenched, and the words turned to whimpering. Her thrusting continued, and the first white-hot jet of cum erupted from her cock. The diligent sliding of pussies didn't stop. If anything, her helpful friends' movements became frenzied as they tried to extract as much of the sticky fluid as they could.

Each ejection of girlcum seared from her cock. It covered all three of their bodies, the asynchronous sliding of their lower halves jerking Zoey's cock this way and that. They didn't stop pleasuring Zoey until she was begging them to, their lubricated sliding almost painful against her spent cock.

Zoey, out of the game for at least a minute while she recovered, was vaguely aware of Not-Zoey separating from their position and pushing Rosalie over. Honestly, go get her. Good for Not-Zoey.

Rosalie cried out as Not-Zoey stuck her head between her thighs and buried her tongue in. It was what Zoey would have done; Rosalie had been shaking, and nearly there—and she didn't blame Not-Zoey at all for helping finish her off. Zoey wouldn't have been able to help herself either.

"It's twitching," Delta said, cutting through Zoey's haze—and the whines of Rosalie coming to orgasm. "It's, um, I feel it twitching. And, and, the door hasn't opened. I think I need to get it off?" Delta's body was shaking from her orgasm, which hadn't ended yet. Her words shook almost as much as her body.

"Get it off?" Zoey elbowed herself up. She was vaguely aware of Rosalie writhing against Not-Zoey's tongue.

"I can—I can feel it. It's about to—"

With how vacuum-sealed Delta's tummy was against the enormous toy, Zoey could see the object shudder inside her.

Then the expected happened.

The oversized toy's ejaculation was as prodigious as its size. Buckets of semen burst up its length and into Delta's stomach, inflating it outward in a sudden jerk. Delta cried out as she was filled with hot, sticky seed. Her stomach expanded, first erasing the outline of the toy on her stomach, then outward further, so there was a slight bulge.

It kept going. Her stomach rounded out as hot liquid ejected into her. It came in spurts, her stomach growing in sharp increases. Delta shook and moaned as a second orgasm followed on the coattails of the first. Her belly started to droop with the weight of so much hot seed stuffing her. She looked eight months pregnant—more.

Still, it sprayed into her, until she bulged with the volume. Delta shook with pleasure, and her inflated stomach sloshed with cum.

Finally, it stopped. Delta sat on the floor, slumped and exhausted, the toy fully inserted. She trembled as she came down from her second orgasm.

"Holy shit," she said.

"Holy shit," Zoey agreed in an erotic sort of fascination. "That … doesn't hurt?" She stared at Delta's stomach, bulging with gallons and gallons of semen.

"No. The … the potion. But it feels seriously weird." A pause, then "And hot." She groaned. "Fuck me. That was amazing."

Delta gasped as she raised herself up and the toy slid from her. Her legs shook. The toy popped from her insides, and the enormous volume of white liquid spilled from her, the stopper no longer in place. Semen gushed out in waves, coating the floor beneath her. Her belly shrank bit by bit and more and more liquid left her. Delta's hand followed it down, pushing on herself to help it out.

Eventually, she was left looking like she had started, with Rosalie's tight abs and flat stomach.

"Wow," Delta said. "That was …"

She couldn't quite find the right word. Zoey couldn't, either.

Chapter 34

Chapter Text

The aftermath was, to be honest, a bit awkward. The degeneracy all four of them had indulged in had been more than they had mentally prepared for, even if no protests seemed forthcoming.

Once Delta had 'gotten the toy off', the door had slid open with a grinding of stone. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately?—rather than being an alternate path of advancement, this particular obstacle had been a 'rewards' challenge.

Which perhaps explained why it had been so much more degenerate than the one Rosalie had needed to undergo. It hadn't even been required to progress through the dungeon. But how were they supposed to know that?

Going forward, Zoey supposed, by when the obstacle is so lewd …

Live and learn, she guessed.

And Delta hadn't complained.

Fuck, Zoey wasn't complaining either. Even Rosalie—the most likely to have been upset at the development—had seemed into it. Not that Zoey thought Rosalie would have engaged in such degeneracy herself, without prompting, but spectating? Yeah, she'd made it clear she liked it.

A single green-banded chest lay in front of them.

"I thought you said these were rare."

Rosalie gave Zoey an annoyed look. "They are. Either these past two delves with you have been astoundingly lucky, or your class—your presence—continues to give … perplexing results. Have you even seen a common chest? A copper band?" She sighed. "Though I shouldn't be surprised. Nothing about," she waved her hand around in a distinctly irritated manner, "all this is normal."

Well. A goddess did send me to save the world. Zoey supposed better loot than average was par for the course. Not that Zoey supplied that explanation.

"You sound upset that we're getting lucky," Zoey said teasingly. "And maybe it's not even luck. We worked hard for it, didn't we?"

"We?" Delta asked. "Try again."

"Delta worked hard for it," Zoey corrected.

"Using my body," Rosalie muttered. "That better not cause … lasting damage."

"Having your entire body wrapped around a giant sex toy? Nah, can't see how that could be bad for your anatomy."

"There was a potion," Zoey said pointedly. "Obviously she's fine."

"Want Zoey to come check?" Delta sneered. "Make sure you're as tight as always?"

Zoey paused at the implication, then cleared her throat. Rosalie did the same.

"The chest," they said at the same time.

They glanced at each other, and Zoey smirked. Rosalie's lips—Delta's? This whole, body-swap thing was getting annoying—twisted in amusement too.

They opened the chest.

The first item out—

[Cat Ears: Uncommon. Highly sensitive. Amplifies senses and improves reactions.

"Excuse me?" Rosalie said.

"Sensitive. Like, in that way?" Zoey asked.

"Mine certainly are," Delta said. "So it'd make sense. But … why?"

"Why?" Rosalie sneered. "There's no point asking that question, in these shards."

"Your ears are sensitive?" Not-Zoey asked Delta.

"Not as much as my tail, but yeah."

"They are?" Zoey asked. Almost without thinking, she stepped forward and rubbed Rosalie's fox-ears between her thumb and fore-finger.

They flattened out, and Rosalie shuddered and took a step back. Her orange-and-white tail flicked in annoyance. "Hey! At least ask. What's wrong with you?"

Rosalie's glower had stopped being intimidating a while ago. Added to the twitching ears and tail, and the blush growing on her cheeks, Zoey couldn't help the grin that split her face.

"I can't believe I didn't know that," Zoey said. "Oh, I'm so making good use of it."

"With her, sure," Delta said. "If it's me in my body, don't you dare. I don't like it."

"You don't?"

"It's too sensitive. Dunno. Too personal."

"Oh," Zoey said. She shot a hesitant look at Rosalie, in case she felt the same way—but rather than asking the unanswered question, she sniffed and turned back to the chest.

She totally wants me to play with them. Zoey made note of the revealing reaction, the grin returning.

"We equipping them?" Delta asked. "I mean, one of you two can. Hardly need a second set of ears. Dunno if they'd even fit." She paused. "So, uh, I guess I'd get them, since I'm in Rosalie's body, right now. Rosalie's the one who doesn't need more ears."

"That's fine." Rosalie passed the cat ears to Delta, who took them. "Like I said, we hardly care about second-advancement loot. Amplified reactions are better suited on you, anyway."

"Don't care about the loot?" Zoey asked. "Speak for yourself. If it's perverted, I definitely care about it."

Delta snorted, and Rosalie huffed.

"You can have first dibs on the gross items," Delta said. "I appreciate the commitment to perversion, but I'm trying to advance, yeah? So I want the practical stuff."

Zoey paused, feeling briefly guilty, because she ought to be trying to advance, too, for, y'know, the sake of saving the world. But she perked up quickly, seeing how her class was based on perverted stuff. If anything, she was filling her role.

Nice mental gymnastics, Zoey.

The next item out:

[Cat Tail: Uncommon. Highly sensitive. Improves balance and acrobatics.

"You're kidding me," Rosalie said flatly, holding it up. "It … it …"

It had a butt-plug at the end. Not quite as large as the biggest of the silver toys they'd earned in their first delve, but almost as big as the one Zoey currently had inserted into herself. Her hole clenched against the thing—she'd almost forgotten about it. I'm really getting used to it being in there. For how big it was, she really shouldn't be.

Delta laughed, and she took the item as Rosalie passed it over. "That's mine too, I guess. Pass me some lube, Zoey?"

"You're going to—" Rosalie's high-pitch response started, then she shook her head and said, "Of course you are."

Zoey passed over one of the several lube-bottles she had stored in her inventory. Rosalie continued to dig.

Zoey was briefly torn between watching Delta coax a giant cat-tail buttplug into herself and the next item Rosalie pulled out.

The winner was fairly obvious. Delta winced as the toy spread her apart, sliding into her tight hole with a quick inhalation. Zoey drank in the reaction, which Delta noticed, and rolled her eyes at.

"Damn, blondie," she said to Rosalie. "You're tight down there. That actually kind of hurt."

"I'm ignoring you," Rosalie said.

Zoey's attention was brought back to the item she'd drawn out. It looked like … well, a wiggling mass of plant-life?

[Writhing Armor: Rare. Enjoy amplified protection at the cost, or benefit, of constant stimulation.

"Oh, shit," Delta said. "Armor. Nice."

Rosalie looked disdainfully at the squirming vines. "Armor?"

"Well. Of a sort."

"This reminds me of …"

The first shard. "It's a rare quality."

"I know," Rosalie said, nose wrinkled. "It probably provides significant defense, too, considering the downside, and the effectiveness of other items so far."

"Downside?" Delta asked. "Constant stimulation? I think you mean upside."

"It's a distraction."

"Eh, you get used to it," Zoey said.

Rosalie glanced her way.

Zoey turned, and, looking over her shoulder with a cheeky grin, pulled her cheeks apart, showcasing the plug still in her ass. "It fades to the background," she laughed, turning back around as Rosalie made some kind of choking noise.

"It's still in there," Delta said, nodding. "That's good. Rosalie's is in too, so you've been building up energy. Almost forgot."

What? "Rosalie's?" Zoey asked. "You have one in?"

Rosalie's face turned beet-red. She stuck her chin in the air. "Delta's the one with the nipples rings now. And her body's the one used to … the size you're using. So I put it in earlier."

Zoey's head spun, even if it made sense. "Turn around. Show me." She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed.

"Zoey." Rosalie glanced sideways at Delta.

"Do it. I wanna see."

Rosalie wavered, but listened. She turned and pulled her cheeks apart. Sure enough, the smooth, glinting steel of a plug showed through, nestled in.

"She's a practical girl, remember?" Delta teased. "Which is the same reason she's gonna put on the armor. She's the tank, so she has to."

Delta seemed almost as delighted at this development as Zoey. Though, her enjoyment seemed to be more of the 'I like seeing Rosalie squirm' kind, and Zoey's … well, Zoey's enjoyment was obvious.

Rosalie cleared her throat. Though annoyed at Delta's teasing, she didn't contradict her words; she agreed with the point she'd made.

She steeled her nerves, then lifted up the mass of vines and wiggled her head in between the opening at the bottom, sliding it down her body.

The response by the twisting plantlife was instantaneous. They squeezed in and writhed down, equipping itself without need for Rosalie to adjust them. Two vines encircled Rosalie's tits and squeezed them tightly, shaping and pushing them out with the strength of their grip. Another two wrapped between her thighs. Her body was quickly engulfed by green ropes—but covering nothing of interest. If anything, they accentuated Rosalie's curves, drawing attention to her nipples and pussy with their looping, clinging designs.

Then, a prospecting vine crawled between her legs and wiggled itself into Rosalie with no forewarning. A gasp escaped her lips and she slapped a hand to her crotch as she bent forward in surprise—but the invader was already well and in, exploring Rosalie's insides.

Zoey thought Rosalie would pull it out, but she didn't. She only shivered and let the armor finish settling against—and into—herself. Eventually, the writhing stopped, all of the vines having situated themselves. Rosalie stood there, donning a looping mesh of plant life. Even having 'settled', they moved here and there, shifting—a living organism that had taken residence across Rosalie's body.

"It's moving around inside me," she groaned, her hips wiggling side to side. "I'm supposed to just … deal with that?"

"I believe in you," Delta grinned. "Come on now, next item. Chop chop."

The vine wiggled, and another gasp. But Rosalie seemed determined to handle her perverted task with stalwartness; she ignored it, and bent down to keep withdrawing objects from the green-banded chest, even as her insides squirmed around with living vines.

[Ink of Empowering Degradation: Rare. Scrawl onto skin. Effects amplify with size, location, and content of markings.

"Oh," Delta said. "That's a funny one."

"It wants us to write … degrading stuff?" Zoey asked.

"Is it permanent?" Rosalie frowned at the ink-bottle and quill. "Surely not."

"Doubt it," Delta said. "But long-lasting, at a guess. Let's test it out."

"Without identification?" Rosalie said disapprovingly.

"Sure. Live a little."

"That's risky. What if it is permanent? Better to have it identified."

"Delving life is risky," Delta said, rolling her eyes. "Besides. Only person seeing your body is me and Zoey, isn't it? So even if it is … it's fine. We'll get it fixed at town. No way it's permanent, permanent—something a mage couldn't fix."

Rosalie cleared her throat. "We don't need it, though. We're handling the shard fine."

"Makes it easier. And, dunno, blondie, this shard hasn't been a cakewalk. Not the hardest I've been through, but you should know all it takes is a single slip-up. Should be using every advantage we have." A second later, "Plus, I'm betting any shard with Zoey in it is only going to let perverted armor and items be used. Like your vine armor. And this ink. So we need to get used to it."

Rosalie frowned down at the item. It was clear she agreed with Delta's appraisal. "But … what should we write?"

"We should be mean about it," Delta said, a grin splitting her lips. "Says the content makes it a stronger effect. So I write yours, you write mine, and the Zoey's will write each other's."

"Feel like you're implying we'll be rude to each other," Not-Zoey said. It'd been a while since she'd chimed in; she'd been quiet through most of the trip. Zoey, again, felt bad about her undoubtedly feeling like an outsider. She knew herself well enough to know that was what was happening.

"Yeah. That's the plan," Delta said. "You two can dig into your insecurities, can't you? Knowing each other, and everything. Means a stronger effect."

"I get to write yours?" Rosalie asked. She was clearly pleased with the idea. Then she paused, realizing the second half. "You get to write mine."

"Deal?"

Rosalie hesitated, then said, "Deal."

Delta didn't seem dissuaded in the slightest at Rosalie's quick acceptance; in fact, she seemed excited that Rosalie had a particularly rude, or degrading, concept of what she wanted to write. "Remember. Size, location, and content. Pretty sure it should go above our pussy, on our face, or across our tits." She paused. "Or ass. Those are obviously the best choices."

"And make them large," Zoey said.

Rosalie crossed her arms. "Oh, I will."

"Who's going first?" Delta asked.

"Me," Rosalie said immediately. She uncapped the bottle and dipped the pen into the ink.

Chapter 35

Chapter Text

"Wow," Delta said. "You were so excited, I thought you had something good."

Across Delta's chest, in thick, bolded letters, 'SHAMELESS WHORE'.

Despite Delta's unimpressed words, Rosalie seemed highly satisfied with the insult she'd written. She admired it smugly, and, when Delta held her hand out, didn't seem particularly put-out that it was her turn to be drawn on.

Zoey, for her part, agreed with Delta. Rosalie had been so excited to write the words that Zoey thought she had something creative. Then again, Rosalie was clearly pretty sheltered … by the smugness of her satisfaction, she thought she'd had a stroke of genius. It was pretty cute.

Delta knelt down in front of Rosalie and dipped the quill in ink. Rosalie shivered as the cold pentip pressed into the space below her belly button. In the same way Rosalie had, Delta spelled her chosen tattoo out in massive letters, covering most of the space on her pelvis. She had to pull aside the writhing vines to get the pen to her skin.

'HUGE GIRL COCKS ONLY 3', the phrase read, with an arrow pointing down at her pussy.

Rosalie paled as she read the words upside-down and finally deciphered them. By the widening of her eyes, Delta was the winner.

"You—you can't be serious."

"It looks good on you," Delta grinned. "Let's hope it's not permanent." She licked her finger and rubbed at the ink, but it had dried instantly, and didn't smudge at Delta's efforts.

"If it is, it's your body." Rosalie's eyes flicked to the 'SHAMELESS WHORE' on her own body's chest. She grimaced.

"Then I'll wear it proudly, when we finally swap back," Delta laughed. She got back up and handed the ink and quill to Not-Zoey.

"Have something good?" Zoey asked her.

"It didn't say we had to be mean. Just degrading." Not-Zoey crouched in front of Zoey. Her cock stiffened instinctively at having a face so close, but Not-Zoey ignored it, rolling her eyes and flicking it. "And that content, size, and positioning mattered. So …"

She worked away at etching ink into Zoey's pelvis, the same as Delta had done to Rosalie's.

'DELTA & ROSIE'S FAVORITE TOY'.

Delta laughed, and Rosalie wrinkled her nose.

Zoey, on her part, grinned. "I'm not sure if I even mind it."

"Hmm. I have a feeling you're not going to be so nice to me."

"I'm definitely taking a cruder approach," Zoey agreed.

Not-Zoey huffed. She finished scribbling ink into the outline of the bolded letters, filling them out, then stood and handed the materials to Zoey.

"Turn around."

"On my butt?" Not-Zoey asked, rolling her eyes. "How did I know?"

Zoey dipped the pen in, then worked away at scrawling out the words 'FREE USE CUM DUMPSTER' across Not-Zoey's ass.

"Crude," Delta said amusedly. "You weren't kidding."

"What's it say?" Not-Zoey was trying to look over her shoulder, but obviously the angle wasn't right. She couldn't see.

"Don't worry about it," Zoey said, slapping her on the ass and vanishing the ink into her inventory.

Not-Zoey rubbed at where she'd been hit, scrunching her nose at Zoey. "You're not going to tell me? That's so mean."

"Nothing beats imagination, anyway."

Not-Zoey huffed, crossing her arms. "To think I was nice to you."

"Do any of you feel anything?" Zoey asked. She herself hadn't felt any magical effects settle in after the lewd phrase had been written, but she doubted the artifact was lying.

Rosalie clenched and unclenched her hands in front of her, as if testing if it felt different. "Maybe. Some stats boosts can be hard to notice. Which is why identifying the item is best, first." She eyed Delta to emphasize the point.

"Eh, doesn't hurt anyone," Delta said. "Even if the effect's small, it's helpful. Plus, Zoey's enjoying the sight."

Her eyes might have been caught on the 'HUGE GIRL COCKS ONLY 3' above Rosalie's pussy. Delta had outdone herself.

She cleared her throat. "There's still more, right?" She gestured at the chest.

Rosalie returned to it.

[Pink Fairy Dust: A shimmering pink powder. Can be used to prepare potions that intensify, and link, dreams.

Zoey paused. "How much do you want to bet 'intensify' means …"

"Sex dreams?" Delta said sarcastically. "I think that's a given."

"And links," Zoey said. "So whoever takes it together, somehow shares the dream?" Or just one guess at what the reagent could create. There was some variance, typically, in what could be coaxed out of any given ingredient.

"Sounds fun," Delta said. "There's all kinds of freaky stuff I'd do in a dream, but not in real life."

Zoey paused.

"And no, I'm not specifying," Delta said.

The looting of an alchemy reagent sparked an idea.

"Hey. Sabina asked me to be on the look-out for reagents, and that there's plenty more to gather from a shard than what comes out of a chest."

"Okay?"

"You know that trap? The," she cleared her throat, "excessive fluid?"

"That filled me up?" Delta's eyebrows raised. "You think it'll make a potion ingredient?"

"Maybe it'll replicate the stretchiness?"

Delta paused. "Hell, worth bringing back just on the off chance." She frowned. "We don't have any containers, though."

"We can improvise. We'll probably get some useless potions." Most chests provided their fair share of junk. Or not junk, but generic items, health potions, stamina potions, and the like. Zoey suspected that for the average adventurer, they'd be useful. But seeing how she'd wandered into a party of two extremely competent partners … and less combat-focused shards … the 'typical items' were less useful than they should be.

They continued to empty out items. The 'regular' pieces of armor that came out were distinctly unenticing, now that the shards had proven themselves as having a habit of erasing 'normal' equipment and loot from their inventory. Before, Zoey had equipped some of it—the stuff that seemed useless to her class, like the spell-casting gloves. Now, though—seeing how items bound themselves to the user—she didn't, since it would be better to sell and buy items useful to their efforts in the future.

Only the lewd items held persistent value. The rest was either temporary use only, or money-making equipment. Or, in this particular case, glass vials to store portions of the buckets of fake-cum that had burst from the toy Delta had pleasured herself on. Zoey emptied out several vials of the green, yellow, and red liquids, then scooped up the sticky white substance from the thick pools that still sat on the ground, outside the loot room.

"It was so much," Zoey laughed, again, looking down at the mess that had been left behind. She'd almost forgotten the sheer quantity that had been inside Delta. If Zoey had thought she had an impressive output … the toy had set a new standard.

"Maybe that's the potion effect it'll make," Delta said. "Not stretchiness, but something that'll let you," she gestured around at the lake of cum.

Zoey paused, then shrugged. "Honestly, both sound fun."

"Pervert."

"Guilty as charged." Zoey felt less need to defend herself with every instance the insult was leveraged at her. Maybe that was a bad thing. Then again, she was coming to terms with the fact it was entirely true.

"Shall we continue?" Rosalie asked dryly. "Or do you need to gather more lewd potion ingredients?"

Zoey looked around at the room, then said, "Actually, I should take some chunks of the toy itself. You never know." The gel-like material was tickling at her alchemist's intuition—it might make some sort of potion, too.

Progression through the shard ambled on.

Rosalie had dispatched the first shard's monsters with ease. This second shard—still with ease, but the effort required was more visible, even to Zoey's untrained eyes.

Like before, she enjoyed the sight of the two naked—or mostly naked, considering Rosalie's new writhing armor set—women dip, weave, and strike with fluid violence. Delta especially was interesting; she moved even faster than Rosalie, with even greater harshness. She'd described herself as a striker, a purely DPS-focused role, and while Rosalie had slightly more composure—some hard-to-describe quality that showcased her unequaled aptitude—Delta's movements were still the more rapid, and violent.

Rosalie, as discussed, spent most of her attention focused on Zoey. The monsters no longer came in ones, as they had the first shard. Neither did they focus mindlessly on whoever engaged it first. Rosalie needed to allocate significant effort in ensuring Zoey went uncontested in their brief, brutal brawls with the shard's spawned enemies.

But they managed. More than managed. They progressed forward steadily and without problem. Delta did catch a few stray attacks—which she downed some of the health potions they'd collected to wipe away—and the sight of blood, especially on a friend, did remove some of the lackadaisical attitude Zoey had previously been feeling. But they never came close to real danger. Scrapes, bruises, minor injuries. Things easily wiped away by the health potions they'd earned—and continued to earn—as they cleared each room and hallway.

Almost before she knew it, they had arrived at an elegant stone arch doorway that had the distinct feeling of 'boss fight'. Several lewd trials had blocked their advancement, but none remotely as degenerate as the one Delta had undergone.

It was a smaller shard than typical, according to Rosalie, and about as long the one she and Rosalie had completed earlier. Zoey wasn't sure whether that was indicative of their future, or coincidence. Two was a small sample size. And while the fact both were lewd seemed safe to draw assumptions from, the other aspects, maybe not as much.

Either way, they'd arrived to the boss chamber.

"What do you think's in there?" Not-Zoey asked.

Unlike with Mel, there were no indicators; no signs warning 'beware the slime' and hinting at what the final encounter would be. The tall brown doors and arched stone weren't especially revealing either.

"Guess we're about to find out," Zoey replied. The theme of the dungeon did seem to be body-play of some sort; both Delta and Rosalie's swapped appearances and the presence of Not-Zoey suggested such. So the boss would likely be the same?

As a party, they stared at the doorway.

"It better not be too gross," Rosalie muttered. "Let's activate our items, then get going."

And I should drink one of those anti-virility potions. Zoey didn't have a clue what would be happening for this boss, but it didn't take a leap of deduction to assume … well. That the potion would be needed.

Chapter 36

Chapter Text

Zoey, Not-Zoey, Rosalie, and Delta walked into the boss room.

A breathtaking chamber spread out before them. Arched pillars with carved marble decorated a circular arena surrounded by columns that reached high into the domed ceiling. At the center was a bed, complete with silk sheets and a thick mattress. A large mirror hung on one wall, reflecting the scene.

"Any guesses what the bed's for?" Delta asked dryly.

At each corner of the walls sat massive statues depicting ... them? The statues were nude women, with her, Delta's, and Rosalie's visages plainly etched into the stone. They stood in various sensual poses. Rosalie's statue cupped her breasts, while Delta's held her hands behind her back, leaned forward with a smirk. Zoey's statue, on the other hand, had her hands on her hips, chest thrust out, and looking almost arrogantly confident.

The stone had an otherworldly luster to it, almost glowing under the lights inside the domed chamber. It made Zoey shiver—the otherworldliness, the elegance, and the fact it was their own faces on the statues.

"Well," Not-Zoey sighed, "I guess it's time for the big reveal."

"You're the boss," Rosalie said. "I'm shocked."

"Absolutely floored," Delta said.

"Huh?" Zoey said. "Wait, what?"

"I guess fooling one of you's not so bad," Not-Zoey said.

"Doesn't count," Delta said. "She's new to this."

"Wait—wait," Zoey said. "No, that can't be right."

"Don't be upset," Not-Zoey said, turning to her, and she seemed genuinely distressed. "Our talk wasn't fake. Everything I said, I meant, and I am you—just ... not entirely."

"Your talk?" Delta asked.

"We did some self-reflecting together," Not-Zoey said. Concerned green eyes flicked to Zoey, and she insisted, "and it was every bit real. I'm glad we could have it."

"You're—you're the boss?" Zoey's head spun. "What are you?"

"A reflection," Not-Zoey said. "For a lack of a better term." She waved a hand in front of her face, and in a chilling display of what she meant, Not-Zoey's face morphed into ... Not-Rosalie. Her body shrunk, appropriating Rosalie's diminutive but powerful frame, Zoey's generous curves melting into Rosalie's smaller, just-as-enticing ones. "I'm hollow. I take in other people. There's really not much of me," she admitted. "Whoever I'm wearing, takes up most of who I am. So I was you. It wasn't a lie." The words came in Rosalie's crisply enunciated voice, now, not Zoey's.

"But ... you knew ..."

"Our circumstances?" Not-Rosalie asked. Her lips quirked. "I did. The memories come with the face." She turned to Rosalie. "Which, let me tell you, is always interesting. Everyone's secrets, poured out for me to see."

Rosalie stiffened at the implication, eyes widening.

Not-Rosalie laughed. "The best part is," she said tauntingly, "I bet you think you're the one with bigger things to hide."

Which was a statement that drew two pairs of eyes—Rosalie's and Delta's—to Zoey.

Zoey didn't have a response. For multiple reasons. The first being the obvious—how to respond to an accusation like that. 'Yeah, I'm from another world, guys.'

The second reason, that she was still reeling from how Not-Zoey (Not-Rosalie?) was the shard's boss monster. Her interactions with Not-Zoey had been so ... genuine. Regardless that both Rosalie and Delta had alluded to not trusting Not-Zoey—and Zoey herself for that matter—immediately upon seeing the two of them. Still. She felt ... betrayed. Silly as she felt to admit it. Of course something weird was going on with Not-Zoey.

Not-Zoey's personality, perhaps expectedly considering who—or what—she was, had shifted as soon as she changed skins. Rosalie's confident demeanor now draped across her shoulders, and she smirked antagonistically at her fox-eared counterpart: Rosalie, in Delta's body.

"Some honesty would go a long way, you know. Why hide? At least Zoey has good reasons for it. Better than yours, at least."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Purple eyes—Delta's, but Rosalie's—flicked between Zoey and Not-Rosalie.

Zoey crossed her arms. "She doesn't have to share anything she doesn't want to."

"And our gallant hero rises up," Not-Rosalie said, rolling her eyes and turning back to Zoey. "You two are lucky I'm keeping your confidence. There's a lot of really interesting conversations I could force out, knowing what I know." She turned to Delta. "I wonder, is it three for three?"

Delta stiffened as Not-Rosalie's features shifted. An orange tail sprouted from her tailbone, and Rosalie's blonde hair shifted to orange, a pair of ears popping out from her head.

Not-Delta's head tilted.

Her nose wrinkled.

"Wow," Not-Delta said. "How boring."

"Yeah, fuck you too," Delta said dryly. "Not all of us can be secret royalty."

Not-Delta laughed. "Fair enough." Dismissively, she turned away, facing Zoey, long orange tail swishing in amusement.

"How's your particular style of 'fighting' going to work?" Zoey asked. She asked as much out of genuine curiosity as to steer them away from the sensitive topics Not-Delta had chosen to play with—Rosalie's and Zoey's secrets.

"Hm," Not-Delta said, tapping her lip as if considering the question. With her adoption of Delta's body, she'd taken a playful, irreverent demeanor. "Let's start with some good old fashioned fun first. It can't all be fucking and frolicking, can it?" Her lips tugged down, her eyes locking with Zoey's. "Though, I'm sorry about this next part—but your team's weak point is pretty obvious."

Ah, Zoey thought. Rosalie had said the bosses would be smarter.

The reflection—the body-shifter—fought with all three of their styles, abilities, and tendencies. Her body morphed between Delta's, Rosalie's, and least frequently Zoey's, as appropriate to the situation. She fought with just as much deadliness—and intensity—as any of them.

Rosalie was hard-pressed to keep Zoey protected from her onslaught. Rosalie was, after all, defending Zoey from herself. The reflection's brutal elegance in combat matched perfectly with Rosalie's own, and worse, exceeded it; the reflection-monster was faster, stronger, and just as skilled as whoever's body she inhabited. With her teammate's natural prowess, it was a distinctly more threatening situation than most tier two shards would present. A counter, so to say, specifically to them: whose unusual talents should have meant they were safe in such a low-rank shard.

Only the fact it was a three-on-one meant Zoey stayed protected. And even then, not perfectly. It was the first time Zoey had taken actual hits during either shards; the reflection's dagger—summoned from nowhere, a sliver of plate-glass that morphed with as much fluid ease as the creature did—caught Zoey in several places, her thighs, arm, stomach, scratching red lines that dripped rivulets of blood down her body.

Zoey's heart slammed in her chest as her party squared off against the shard's final encounter, desperately trying to keep her attention and failing, the reflection's attention focused only on Zoey—the 'weak link'. However many times she'd acknowledged that these shards could be dangerous ... the sting of glass opening up her skin had hammered the fact in with fatal clarity no amount of mental acknowledgment could have managed.

If things go wrong ... this could be the end.

But things didn't go wrong. The reflection's assault was vicious and focused, but her teammates—though, admittedly, not Zoey, a quarter as much—rose up to the challenge. Again, these two girls weren't beginners in the slightest; they responded to the threat almost as if they'd been expecting it. Rosalie and Delta moved as a unit, as if they'd prepared specifically for the body-shifter. Even through Zoey's panic, she was impressed; their coordination was seamless, despite having known each other less than a day.

The reflection was driven off by their efforts. Unlike Mel—the first boss—her so-called 'healthiness' was harder to discern, but by her flagging stamina and the injuries accruing across her body, persisting even after body-shifts, Zoey could tell she was being worn down.

"Okay, okay," Not-Rosalie finally laughed, peeling back from the brawl and swaying unsteadily on her feet. "Like I said, some old-fashioned fun to start. But let's not finish too quickly. To the main course."

She swiped her hand to the left, and Zoey was suddenly falling.

She landed hard onto the giant, plush bed that sat at the center of the room, bouncing with the impact before steadying herself on her hands and knees.

What? They'd been fighting on the outskirts of the chamber-arena, dancing around the perimeter as they—or more accurately, Rosalie and Delta—fought against the creature. How had Zoey been teleported to the center of the room? And where were her teammates?

"Go ahead," Not-Zoey said, making Zoey jump. "Heal up." She grinned. "Good thing you didn't empty out all the health potions to scoop up dungeon-trap cum."

Zoey stared warily at Not-Zoey, but she didn't seem about to attack. And whatever had happened, it seemed the first—the only?—attack phase of the fight had ended. She checked herself over, running her hands and eyes across her body. The fall hadn't hurt, not seriously, however long-lasting and rapidly accelerating it had felt. The plush bed had cushioned the impact.

And while she was still bleeding from the wounds she'd gathered during the fight—blood dripping down from several glancing blows, the most Rosalie had allowed past her guard—she was, all things considered, not in bad shape. Not pristine ... but not in any dire state, either.

She did as told and downed a health potion, summoned from her inventory, eying Not-Zoey as she did. Though not her first time drinking a potion—she'd relied on the stamina ones heavily during their long travels—it was Zoey's first time drinking a health one. The liquid burned as it went down, but it did its job, healing her minor injuries, the glancing blows inflicted by the reflection's morphing glass weapons. Her insides tingled as the potion worked its magic.

Not-Zoey watched her drink, grinning. "Cool," she said. "Now, there's something we were so rudely interrupted from finishing, isn't there? I just hope you don't mind the spectators."

"Spectators?" Zoey's eyes followed the direction of Not-Zoey's smirk. There, up in the rafters of the enormous boss-room arena, paced her two teammates. Rosalie banged her fist on an invisible barrier. She was a bit too far for Zoey to make out an expression, but her body-language radiated displeasure. "Ah." Then, the first part of what Not-Zoey said sunk in. "Rudely interrupted?"

The smirk grew. Not-Zoey fell back into the bed, then rolled over, showcasing her exposed ass. With the flurry of violence, the fact everyone was nude had been erased from Zoey's awareness—far from the most important thing to be thinking about. But with Not-Zoey's shapely ass so on display, she was, suddenly, aware again.

Not-Zoey tapped her ass, which jiggled. Thick black letters, 'FREE USE CUM DUMPSTER', stood starkly out against her pale flesh from their body-writing escapades earlier. "You know, I still don't know what you wrote there," Not-Zoey said, "but I have the feeling it's about to be a true statement."

Despite this creature's thorough efforts at killing—or at least hurting—her a second ago, Zoey's cock stiffened, engorging itself. The sight of Not-Zoey's ass presented so eagerly in front of her was too much to fight against.

Not that she wanted to fight against this. This phase of the bossfight was the part Zoey might actually be able to help, like against Mel. The part of the encounter she wouldn't be wholly useless.

And Zoey had made a promise to herself that she'd be getting into her own insides before the shard was over.

It looked like the opportunity had finally arrived.

Chapter 37

Chapter Text

"You know," Zoey said, "it's weird being propositioned to by someone trying to kill me two minutes ago."

"Then take your anger out on me." Not-Zoey waggled her ass, still turned over on her stomach and looking back at Zoey with a smirk. "I might not be as durable as Mel when it comes to this, but I think I can put up a good fight."

"Aren't you a second-advancement boss? Shouldn't you be more durable?"

"If fucking was all I did, maybe. Not trying to spoil the surprise too much ... but you might want to wear me down for phase three."

"Phase three." By the sounds of it, more of phase one. Combat. More of her trying to kill Zoey. Which was quite the thing to hang over Zoey's head while wiggling her ass around invitingly. Fuck it. "You know what? Sure. Wear you down. I can go for some of that."

Not-Zoey grinned, and a glint appeared in her eyes. "Ready to find out what your own pussy feels like?"

Which succeeded in making Zoey's heart skip a beat, despite the circumstances. Where had Not-Zoey's timidity gone?

Zoey crawled across the bedsheets, the plush material indenting as she moved. She perched herself overtop Not-Zoey.

Despite having shifted bodies several times, the thick black ink from their body-writing event was as visible as ever. 'FREE USE CUM DUMPSTER', Not-Zoey's ass read.

Fuck. Her cock twitched in excitement.

Zoey guided it between two soft cheeks, rubbing it up and down Not-Zoey's ass, between bolded letters. Soon to be true. She guided it down, rubbing her cockhead against slick folds, lubricating herself in preparation.

My folds, Zoey hazily corrected herself. Rubbing my cockhead against my folds.

This was her pussy she'd be thrusting into. Even if it was guided by a consciousness that wasn't hers, it was still her own body. Every biological detail, perfectly duplicated. And maybe not her mind exactly, but something close—just, merged with another's consciousness. For most meaningful uses of the word, Not-Zoey was her. Her memories, her personality.

However intense the fight had been a few minutes prior, Zoey's brain quickly grew addled by lust. She slid her cock up and down, rubbing against agonizingly soft flesh—her own flesh—mentally bracing herself for what she was about to do.

"Hurry up, won't you?" Not-Zoey breathed. She sounded as tantalized by the idea as Zoey.

She lined her cockhead up to Not-Zoey's opening. Even just sliding, the feeling was incredible. Warm, inviting, wet. Not-Zoey rubbed back, arching her back, and encouraging Zoey to thrust in.

"Ready?" Zoey asked, her voice grown husky.

"For that thing? Probably never."

Zoey pushed forward, pressing the head of her cock into Not-Zoey's entrance. She breathed in as she pushed past tight resistance, sinking inside Not-Zoey's sex.

I 'm inside myself.

Zoey's entire body burned with the idea. Not-Zoey's warm, tight pressure enveloped her member, spreading through her shaft, making her whole body tingle with pleasure. The feeling was electric, amplified a hundred times over by the mental stimulation of knowing it was her own pussy she'd just pushed into.

Zoey's breath caught as she thrusted again. Then again, and again, picking up speed. A needy, foreign force took over Zoey's hips. She slapped in, harder, faster, deeper with every passing second.

"Oh god," Not-Zoey groaned, pressing her face into the bedsheets as Zoey filled her up.

Zoey's hips finally hit Not-Zoey's ass, her back-and-forth efforts finally driving all the way into Not-Zoey's pussy. Like usual, she'd needed to ease in. But now she held still for a moment, savoring the sensation of having another woman's pussy—that was also her own—wrapped around her cock.

It was a feeling, Zoey realized, she would never tire of. Being inside another girl made her feel ... powerful. She'd always been a person not afraid to take control in bed, but this, the tight pressure of wet, squirming pussy-walls around her cock ... it gave her an almost primal sense of control, something heady and intoxicating.

The fact it was her own pussy she'd entered? Her own tight walls pleasuring her cock? It took the sensation to eleven.

Zoey growled, leaning forward and breathing hot air into Not-Zoey's ear. She lifted her hips then slammed them back forward. Flesh slapped against flesh, and waves of pleasure ran up and down her spine, shooting bolts of lightning through her nerves. She needed more.

"Faster," Not-Zoey groaned, apparently agreeing. "You call this ... a fucking?"

Zoey picked up speed. Her hips slammed back and forth as she pistoned in and out of the girl beneath her. Slaps echoed around the room from the vigor of Zoey's thrusts. The sheets thumped and fluttered under their bodies, tossed about by the forceful impact, each more powerful than the last, sinking their bodies into the material then back up. The bedframe creaked as they bounced. Her cock slid in and out of tight, coaxing walls.

Zoey hooked her two middle fingers into Not-Zoey's mouth and pulled her back. Not-Zoey licked at Zoey's fingers even as she whined incoherent, lewd noises.

Fuck. This is so good. A second ago, Not-Zoey had been trying to kill her. Now, Zoey was giving it everything she had to slam her cock into her. Talk about a swap-up.

Either way, Zoey took out some of her frustration on her partner. Not-Zoey'd been the one to suggest it in the first place.

Not-Zoey's back arched as Zoey rammed her cock with growing intensity. Not-Zoey's moans and gasps turned to loud, desperate pleas for more. She was starting to shake. Zoey's efforts were working. Her fourteen inch girlcock had turned the woman into a puddle of begging and growing ecstasy with a speed even Zoey hadn't expected.

Zoey grabbed a handful of Not-Zoey's black hair and forced her head back. "Do you like it? My thick cock filling you up? Tell me you like it."

Not-Zoey moaned in response, and Zoey roughly yanked her head side-to-side. She felt she could be forgiven the roughness, seeing how Not-Zoey had been trying to kill her.

And she'd suspected Not-Zoey would like it. The pained moan wasn't all pain, and Not-Zoey panted with fluttering eyes, basking in the sharpening-of-sensations her yanked-on hair had brought.

She was Zoey. Zoey didn't mind when things got rough, either.

"Answer me," Zoey growled into her ear.

"I … I love it. I want your cum inside me," Not-Zoey groaned. "Make me yours. Fill me up with your seed. Please." Her body, and pussy, spasmed beneath her as the first of many-to-come orgasms wracked her body. Zoey picked up speed, the slapping of flesh intensifying, and her own orgasm building with equally unexpected speed.

"Say it again," Zoey snarled, shoving Not-Zoey's face into the sheets and rubbing it into the fabric. Not-Zoey cried and shuddered as her climax coursed through her. "Tell me what you want."

"I said," the muffled, gasping response came. "I want—I want to be full of your, your—" She couldn't get the words out, her orgasms erasing her ability to speak. But it was enough for Zoey.

Zoey slammed one last time into Not-Zoey and let go. She erupted, shooting load after load of sticky cum deep into her copy-cat. A torrential flood poured from her cock. She felt every muscle in her body tense, helping squeeze every drop out. The heat grew in her core until it overwhelmed her with its ecstasy. It coursed and coursed, matching each shudder and clench of her cock buried into Not-Zoey's insides. Not-Zoey's spasming pussy helped milk Zoey. Zoey's mind drifted away, overcome by a sea of intense bliss.

When she finally came down, Zoey collapsed forward onto Not-Zoey's back. Zoey's sweaty body pressed into hers. They panted as they withdrew from their respective orgasms. Zoey's exhausted muscles relaxed, softening as the explosive high left her.

Maybe she was getting used to the exhausting effect of this new sort of climax, but Zoey barely needed to rally. She hadn't done a quarter of what she wanted to Not-Zoey—this face-shifting creature who'd a few minutes ago been trying to hurt her. She didn't hold any real grudges, she guessed—somewhat of a lie—but she took satisfaction in dominating a person who'd moment before been so thoroughly trouncing her.

And it was Zoey's job to 'wear her down'. This, at least, she could contribute to the fight.

Zoey pushed herself back up, pulling her cock from Not-Zoey's insides. Cum poured out and ran into the sheets, gushing from a hole that had been stuffed to bursting with Zoey's cock a second before. She moved her cock up, higher, nudging into Not-Zoey's other entrance. Zoey didn't know if she'd ever have a chance to fuck herself again, so she intended to make good use of the opportunity.

"Wait, you're—?" Not-Zoey started, pushing herself up and trying to turn to face her.

But Zoey shoved herself in before she could.

Not-Zoey's tight asshole wrapped around her shaft as she sank into it. Warm, inviting flesh coaxed every inch of her thick length. Zoey groaned in pleasure.

"Fuck," Not-Zoey cried, collapsing back into the bed. "Fuck! Too big!" Her tight hole squeezed in surprise at her sudden violation, only aiding in the gratifying sensation.

Zoey pumped in and out of Not-Zoey's ass, not letting her adjust, and reveling in the feeling of stretching Not-Zoey's asshole out.

Not-Zoey's ass bucked against Zoey's thrusts, her protests gone in an instant, needing desperately to force more meat inside herself. Every jerk had Zoey burying all the way in.

Zoey shuffled up so she was sitting mostly upright, and she gripped Not-Zoey's ass cheeks as she gyrated her hips, pulling back then slamming forward.

Then, because of what Zoey intended to do after this, she pulled out the dark-red bottle of cleaning agent. She squeezed the liquid out onto her cock and worked it into Not-Zoey's hole, squishing it in with her cock, delighting in the squelching sounds. It tingled around her member as it performed its magical effect.

"Yes, please. Fuck my ass. Fuck me." Not-Zoey clawed at the bedsheets with desperate, frenzied efforts as Zoey pounded away, pumping her less-used hole full of cock. It had loosened with surprising speed, not that it had much choice, wrapped around such a thick girlcock. "It's so good. Your cock is so, mmm, deep in me!"

"You love getting fucked by it, don't you?"

"Yes," Not-Zoey cried. "Your monster cock is so fucking good. Keep going. Please. Fuck your fat girlcock in my ass. Make me yours."

Zoey had always loved the over-the-top dirty talk that came from a properly-fucked partner, and the haze of lust. Her face—her body—was on fire. Not-Zoey kept spewing the obscenities, the lewd words amplifying the pleasurable burning in her cock, her core, her entire being.

"You feel so good around me," Zoey growled as she picked up speed, working herself faster and faster. "I'm close. I'm going to blow another load inside your slutty little ass. You want that?"

"Yes! I do! My ass needs your cum! Shoot it into me!"

"Then take it, you little slut. You fucking … cum dumpster." She grabbed a handful of Not-Zoey's hair and shoved her head into the sheets. Her cries grew muffled, and Zoey's climax arrived. A geyser of thick white seed poured from her cock as her body spasmed. Not-Zoey's insides clenched around the gushing shaft, milking every last drop from Zoey as their orgasms synchronized.

The burning euphoria was even higher than the first time. Her vision flashed white. Every nerve ending was on fire—it was overwhelming, pleasurable agony. Her thighs quivered as if electrified. She moaned obscenely, body shaking as she emptied into Not-Zoey's ass.

Beneath her, Not-Zoey underwent the same crucible. She bucked against Zoey's thrusts, unable to resist the overload of pleasure provided by Zoey's cock deep in her tight asshole. She gripped the sheets, squirming underneath Zoey's weight, hips bucking back and forth in a desperate effort to get more cock inside her, to keep Zoey's cock squirming around.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, both women fell into the sheets, panting. Zoey slumped forward atop Not-Zoey, chest heaving up and down with exertion. Sweat trickled between their bodies. Not-Zoey's ass, and Zoey's thighs and crotch, were completely coated by their combined juices. More Zoey's than Not-Zoey's. The viscous white liquid dripped down onto the sheets, pooling beneath them, dampening the fabric which had grown squishy with so much seed.

Their breathing came heavy and ragged for a solid minute.

"One more hole left," Zoey finally said, sitting and flipping Not-Zoey over. She pulled Not-Zoey up and guided her mouth to her cock.

"You just had that thing in my—"

Zoey's cum-covered cock, a minute prior violating Not-Zoey's asshole, sank into the soft wet flesh of her mouth. Zoey had, at least, worked the cleaning agent in while fucking her.

Despite the protest, Not-Zoey's tongue explored eagerly, cleaning up the cum off Zoey's sticky member and caressing her cock with the powerful, exploring muscle. She sucked hungrily at it—like it was her last chance to taste it. Which, Zoey supposed, it was. She drooled, dribbling saliva all across her breasts and stomach as she slurped away at Zoey's cock.

"Eager, aren't you?" Zoey groaned.

Not-Zoey moaned around her cock. The words were hard to make out with so much blockage, but it might've been 'it tastes so good'. She wiggled her head further down, swallowing more of the girlcock with sloppy effort. Zoey was quickly enveloped by the tight walls of Not-Zoey's throat. Not-Zoey choked on her impressive size, but wasn't discouraged.

Zoey hips worked with Not-Zoey, forcing cock deeper into her throat with every second. "Swallow it, bitch," Zoey groaned, hands sinking into Not-Zoey's hair. My own hair. It was silky and soft.

For a brief, impossible second she'd forgotten who this was. Or, whose body. Bright green eyes stared up at Zoey, and she stared as a mirror image of herself sucked desperately at her cock, wiggling her head to get down further.

She pounded against Not-Zoey's face, the realization reinvigorating her efforts, her lust, and she drove herself into Not-Zoey's open throat. Not-Zoey's eyes rolled back as her neck distended, taking the cock that had so recently fucked her ass. "Every inch. Swallow every inch of my giant cock, you slut. You want me to cum? Then swallow every fucking inch of my cock!"

Not-Zoey choked under Zoey's onslaught, but tried desperately to comply. She gagged on her thick meat while Zoey slammed into her.

"Yes," Zoey hissed through gritted teeth, "you love being choked by dick, don't you? Fuck, it's stretching you out. Feel yourself."

Not-Zoey listened, hand going to her throat, feeling Zoey's shaft violate the tight hole with every thrust. She made some kind of gurgling noise as she tried to reply, but mostly all she succeeded in doing was having saliva drip from her lips, which already coated her chin and dripped down to her thighs.

"Here it comes. Here's what you need. Ready for another load?" Zoey couldn't make sense out of the choked reply, but she understood the sentiment by how desperately Not-Zoey met her thrusts. Her stomach clenched, the pressure building. "Take it all. Take it. Take it!"

The last syllable was punctuated by a spasm of ecstasy that ripped through Zoey's body like a thunderbolt. She buried Not-Zoey's nose into her crotch and let go. The warm bliss coursing through her cock exploded into a series of intense pulses, and she shot thick strings into Not-Zoey's stomach.

Her cock clenched and squirted, sending bursts of girlcum spraying deep into Not-Zoey's throat. More and more, until the entirety of Zoey's length had emptied itself within her, coating every inch of the girl's stomach and throat with the thick white substance.

Finally, when there was no more left, Zoey fell backward, dizzy. Not-Zoey's mouth separated with a pop, and she coughed and gagged, sucking in air. She spat it out, trying to get rid of the excess saliva and girlcum from her invaded airways.

"Ugh." She collapsed onto the bed next to Zoey. "So good." She panted as her breathing slowed back to normal.

"Mm," Zoey murmured nonsensically. Three orgasms back-to-back-to-back had taken its toll. Her stamina had improved massively, but it was still limited. Every nerve ending burned, her head felt fuzzy, her muscles weak. She didn't think she'd ever cum this much, not even with Mel.

Not-Zoey patted Zoey's shoulder. She was exhausted, too. Zoey's efforts hadn't gone to waste. "I'm taking a breather. Have some fun with your girlfriends."

A wave of her hand, and Not-Zoey vanished, the pressure on the bed next to her snapping up to adjust for the disappearance. A half-second later, Zoey's vision went black—like it had twenty minutes prior—and she was falling, again.

Chapter 38

Chapter Text

Zoey crashed down onto the bed—exactly where she'd been before—accompanied by two other girls. Again, Zoey scrambled to orient herself, to push away the nausea that had appeared with her sudden teleportation.

For a brief moment, she thought the two girls who'd bounced onto the bed were Not-Zoey and Delta. But the enormous package tucked between the dark-haired figure's legs had Zoey's brain running circles in confusion. Not-Zoey didn't have a cock. Shouldn't, at least. Did that mean—? But no, more likely that ...

She paused. Something felt odd about her own body.

Zoey looked down and saw toned muscles, a generous chest. Not unusual—but not hers. A tress of orange hair rested on her shoulder, which she scooped up and rubbed between her fingers. Silky. And not hers. Delta's. She became aware of a tail tucked beneath her, and she leaned forward and took it in her hands, stroking the fluffy body part. She winced.

Huh. It is sensitive, like she said.

"Okay," Zoey-Delta said, still playing with her tail. "So, who's who, this time?" She was exhausted, but practicalities needed to be addressed. The burst of adrenaline that had come with being teleported, at least, wiped some of it away.

Someone-Zoey stared incredulously down at her cock. By the opening and closing mouth—the floundering—Zoey could take a guess who'd landed in her own body. But the words confirmed it. "You have got to be kidding me," Rosalie-Zoey hissed. "I have—I have—" Her hand hovered at her crotch as if she intended to grab the impressive member, but she stopped.

"Man," Delta-Rosalie said. "You two changed, and I didn't? Why do I keep getting the short stick? I'm the one who wanted a cock."

Rosalie-Zoey shot a disgusted look at Delta, then turned to Zoey. The expression somehow, and unfairly, screamed, 'this is your fault'. "Unbelievable," she said. "And did you have to be so ... enthusiastic about all that?"

"Who can blame her?" Delta said. "If I had a body like that, I'd want to fuck it, too."

"And you got your ... fluid ... everywhere," Rosalie said, nose wrinkling as she pressed a finger into cum-soaked sheets. She rubbed her pointer finger and thumb together, and when she separated them, white goo bridged her digits. "The bed is drenched. You're disgusting."

"Where did she go?" Zoey asked. Despite having changed bodies, she was still fatigued. Rosalie, on the other hand, didn't seem exhausted at all; their statuses had followed over between their body-changes.

"Take a stamina potion," Delta said. "Gods, I'm tired just looking at you."

Right. Zoey didn't know how many times she would forget about the magical conveniences afforded her before it became instinct to fall back on things like stamina potions.

The contents of the murky-yellow vial emptied into her throat, tingling as it went down. The effects were immediate. The soreness and fatigue from such a thorough fucking session faded away, and soon she was wide awake and ready for more. Reinvigorated. I know I've thought it a hundred times before, but magic. Pretty cool stuff.

"Where'd she go?" Zoey repeated. "Why is it just us three, now?"

"And why the body-swap?" Delta asked.

A voice came from high in the rafters—three heads pivoted to their spectator. She was wearing Delta's body, this time, not Zoey's. "Like I said, taking a breather, sweetheart. This is your chance to swap back before we duke it out. The fight for all the marbles."

"Swap back?" Rosalie-Zoey asked. "What does that mean?"

Zoey paused. The explanation came intuitively—or at least, she had strong suspicions. "She's implying if we fuck each other, we'll swap bodies each time."

"Winner winner," Not-Delta's voice came from the distance. "She's a quick one."

Rosalie-Zoey looked vaguely horrified at the revelation. "But that means—"

"This so isn't fair," Delta whined. "You have a cock and you get to use it?"

"But—but—" Rosalie failed to come to terms with the situation. Wide eyes stared at her cock, then at Zoey-Delta and Delta-Rosalie.

"What's the ordering, then?" Zoey asked. "Assuming we're trying to get back to our normal bodies."

"Well," Delta said. "Depends if Princess is okay with fucking me or not, I suppose."

"Absolutely not."

"Then Zoey has to put in some work," Delta said, not offended at Rosalie's effusive denial. "Has to be an intermediary." She frowned. Her finger moved around between the three of them as she ran some calculations—Rosalie was doing the same, her eyebrows furrowed. How did they get back to their bodies in the quickest way possible, but without Rosalie and Delta fucking each other?

"Two moves," Rosalie said. "You and Zoey, then me and Zoey."

"Yeah," Delta said, "but we can also do it in four moves."

"Why would—"

"Because I want a turn with the cock, okay? It's not fair!"

Rosalie stared at Delta with open incredulity. Delta turned to Zoey, and with pleading eyes, said, "Come on. Let's take the long way. I want a turn in your body."

Zoey laughed, amused at the request, and Delta's straightforwardness. "What would the ordering be?" Zoey's head hurt trying to figure out what order they needed to fuck in to accommodate everyone.

"It'd be you and blondie, then you and me, then you and blondie, and me and you, again."

Rosalie nodded slowly as she ran swaps in her head. Zoey, honestly, lost the thread. "It would work," Rosalie said, "but it's twice as much effort. We're in a boss fight, if you've forgotten."

"It's up to Zoey." Delta pleaded with wide, hopeful eyes, which was devastatingly effective, considering she was in Rosalie's body and wearing a pair of cat ears. They even flatted down, like they were real and not an armor attachment.

"If she wants my cock, she can have it," Zoey laughed. "That's my general policy, isn't it?"

"Yes!"

"You just want this to last longer," Rosalie said to Zoey with vague disdain. "You're letting the boss recover, you realize?"

"Then we better get a move on," Zoey said, a smile creeping across her lips. She shuffled over on all fours, the cum-sticky bed dirtying her hands and knees, and Rosalie's eyes widened, blanching as she realized what was about to happen.

"N-Now," Rosalie-Zoey started, shuffling back at Zoey's advance, then tipping over as Zoey pushed her by her shoulders. Rosalie's cock stiffed, quickly engorging, as Zoey climbed atop her. It pressed against Zoey's stomach as she straddled her lap. "Wait. Wait. Zoey, give me a second."

Something about the tone of voice gave Zoey pause—halted her in her tracks, regardless of how excited she was. "You okay?"

"It feels ... weird," Rosalie said, staring down between their bodies, at the gigantic cock that was swelling up against Zoey's stomach. Her hips wiggled. "So, um, intense."

Zoey smirked. "Maybe you can sympathize with me, finally. Hard to keep a straight head with that thing, isn't it?"

Rosalie panted as she watched her cock finish filling out. A lusty haze had fallen over her eyes. Was that how Zoey looked, when things got going? Her cock was—as Ephy had alluded to—a lot needier than most. More sensitive, too.

Zoey's hand went to Rosalie's cock, and Rosalie made one of the cutest noises she'd ever heard. A squeak, or something close. Zoey squeezed, and the noise repeated itself, Rosalie's hips bucking forward and jostling Zoey atop her.

Zoey briefly took a moment to be disoriented at her own situation—the fox ears on her head, the tail sprouting from just above her ass, and most importantly, the fact she had a cock in her hands, which distinctly wasn't something Zoey'd ever done before—but the excitement and lust in Rosalie's eyes overruled her hesitancy.

"Just let me know if its too much," Zoey murmured, stroking up and down Rosalie's huge girlcock. It pulsed in her hand, radiating heat.

"How, how's it work?" Rosalie panted. "Do I have to ... inside?"

Zoey paused. She wasn't sure.

Not-Delta's voice came down from the rafters, "Synchronized! That's all that matters. So you better hold off, blondie!"

That wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world for Rosalie. If Zoey wanted to be nice, she'd get herself close to orgasm before they started, and let Rosalie take control. That way, Rosalie wouldn't have to resist the pleasure too much.

But Zoey wasn't feeling particularly nice. The opposite. She wanted to make Rosalie squirm. To understand just how ... inconvenient, and overwhelming, this member of Zoey's—that was now hers—was.

"It's so weird, with you in her body," Rosalie murmured. Her eyes scoured Zoey's—Delta's?—tits, stomach, and neatly shaved pussy, which she had a great view of as Zoey jerked her off with both hands.

"Is it doing something for you?" Zoey grinned. "Do Delta's hands feel good, going up and down your giant cock? How about that we're being watched by her? Is that why you're making so many cute noises?" Like usual, the heat of the situation had put a boldness into Zoey that didn't normally exist.

"O-Of course not."

"Maybe her mouth can extract a confession." Zoey squeezed the base of Rosalie's cock. Without thinking better of what she was doing, she leaned forward and took Rosalie in her mouth.

My own cock, she realized.

This musky taste was her own, the pulsing-hot warmth and the salty taste of pre-cum. It hadn't crossed her mind—she'd wanted to tease Rosalie by using Delta's mouth to extract honesty from her. But she'd just taken her own cock into her mouth.

Zoey stroked her tongue at the slit on top of her shaft, and pushed down onto that warm girth. Rosalie made more adorable squeaks—the same kind she'd been making—and almost as much as the idea Zoey had her own cock in her mouth—not literally, but close enough—it was Rosalie's noises that had Zoey's mind melting.

She's so cute, I want to die. Zoey would do whatever she could to have Rosalie bucking and whining beneath her. However degenerate this shard was, Zoey found herself thankful she'd been put in this situation: with Rosalie's cock stuffing her mouth.

Time to make her squirm.

Chapter 39

Chapter Text

Zoey worked her mouth along the hot tip of Rosalie's cock head, running her tongue across its edges and caressing the pulsing member. Both her hands wrapped around its base, stabilizing it for her sloppy efforts.

Fourteen inches had seemed much smaller when between Zoey's legs instead of someone else's. One of the reasons Zoey had eagerly gotten to work on Rosalie—besides the obvious of wanting to make her feel good—was to garner some sympathy for how overwhelming having a cock could be. Especially Zoey's.

But it seemed Zoey was gaining perspective too. Because this thing was so fucking big.

How the hell did Rosalie make it seem easy? Getting it down? Zoey's skills should still work, so it wouldn't be an impossible task … but not an easy one.

It didn't need to be easy. With Rosalie's whines and moans as a reward for every movement of Zoey's tongue and bob of her head, Zoey was highly incentivized to get this unwieldy object deeper into her mouth.

Rosalie's hands wrapped into Zoey's hair. "You like it, don't you?" Rosalie said. "My cock in your mouth?"

She stuttered over the words.

Zoey paused her coaxing tongue-stroking, then pulled back, saliva bridging from her mouth to Rosalie's cock. A grin split Zoey's lips.

"Was that ... are you trying to ... dirty talk? Take charge?"

Rosalie's face colored with amusing speed. She cleared her throat. "I just—I thought that—since, you know, I have it now ... ?"

Zoey's smile grew. She shuffled forward until she'd pressed herself a few inches from Rosalie's burning face. She pushed back an errant lock of black hair.

"Cute. You're cute. But let me clear something up." Zoey squeezed Rosalie's cock, extracting a moan and a wiggle of Rosalie's hips. "You're my plaything, not the other way around. Doesn't matter what you have between your legs. Understand?"

Rosalie panted hot air into her face. Zoey squeezed again, harder, this time.

"Understand?"

"Y-Yes."

"Good. Now sit back and enjoy Delta's mouth."

Zoey paused before her lips wrapped around Rosalie's cock again. "But dirty talk is nice," she clarified. "Just remember your place." Her head, and mouth, sank back down.

She stroked with her tongue and sucked, teasing Rosalie's cockhead. The two girls eased back into Zoey's playful coaxing of her sensitive part.

"Deeper?" Rosalie asked. "Please?"

Zoey smiled around Rosalie's cock. Well, since she asked so nicely. Bracing herself, she opened her throat and pushed herself down. She choked at first. Because … of course. Her gag reflex protested, but she persevered—she had a mission, and she would see it through.

Four or five inches down, the thick meat cramming into her throat was too much; she wasn't experienced at this, even if she had a skill helping her along. Her throat spasmed, and she gagged, pulling back and coughing.

"Help me out, won't you?" Zoey said, once she'd stabilized. "Get me down."

Rosalie didn't need to be told twice. Zoey's lips wrapped back around her cock, and when Zoey got her throat opened up again, Rosalie took her request deadly serious. She shoved, and not gently. With Rosalie's empowered strength, all fourteen inches of cock slipped past Zoey's constricting esophagus with a surprised gasp-slash-choke-slash-moan. Girlmeat slid further and further, easily down past her sternum, approaching her stomach. The sensation was insane—incredible—and the noises Rosalie made at the tight pleasuring of her cock, even more so.

Zoey planted a kiss on Rosalie's crotch, her nose pressed fully into her pelvis. Huh. When it's fast, it's not so bad. She'd been shoved down with so much speed her gag reflex hadn't had time to protest.

"Aren't we supposed to ... synchronize?" Rosalie whined.

Zoey couldn't respond, obviously.

Delta did in her place. "I don't think Zoey's letting you off with just one," she said amusedly. "This one's a freebie, I'm taking it."

Zoey had almost forgotten about Delta. She was so focused on Rosalie and her reactions she'd forgot the circumstances they were in. Forgot the entire world, honestly—and that this was her own cock in her mouth.

Zoey spared a glance at Delta. She was leaned back into the pillows, enjoying the show. She stroked slowly, playfully, at her lower lips, not embarrassed in the slightest for doing so. She worked at a pace that said she was having fun, but not allowing herself to get too worked up. Saving herself for her turn.

Zoey refocused on her goal. She pulled her head back, feeling fourteen inches squirm and slide around in her tight, gripping throat. Her oxygen supply was quickly depleting, but she didn't care. She could hold off for a while longer. Rosalie's pleasure mattered more.

Rosalie started bucking, and Zoey grabbed onto her hips to steady herself. A giant rod of girlmeat violated her throat in a way Zoey had never experienced. It approached painful, but her lust overruled any real discomfort. It was the best thing ever.

"Your throat feels so good," Rosalie groaned. "I—I can feel something ... something building.

'Already?' Zoey would have teased.

"Already?" Delta asked.

The bucking picked up speed. Harder, faster, Rosalie sank her fourteen inches into Zoey's constrictive throat, pleasuring herself.

"I can't … I can't stop myself." Faster still. Her hips moved with abandon, and her eyes glazed over. "Fuck! Fuck me! Zoey!"

Rosalie slammed Zoey's head back down into her pelvis with one last, rough, desperate push. Zoey watched her stomach spasm, and felt—inside her tight throat—Rosalie's cock twitch and swell.

Fuck. Here it comes.

Rosalie groaned, then squeezed out thick jets of hot white girlcum. It burst into Zoey's throat, or more accurately, directly into her stomach, spraying hot material fourteen inches down her esophagus.

Rosalie had mentioned how she could 'feel it sloshing around', and as Zoey's stomach quickly filled up with Rosalie's semen, Zoey understood exactly what she meant. Rosalie was borrowing Zoey's body, after all, and so her output was as impressive as Zoey's.

S-So much. Rosalie filled Zoey up with hot, sticky girl batter. Fuck. It's still going.

Finally, she extracted herself from Rosalie's dick, savoring the way her throat closed as the giant invader slipped up and out. Her vision blackened at the edges, and the first breath of air as she surfaced was orgasmic.

She sucked in oxygen as she hacked out cum. Rosalie's seed shot out of her nose in the violent fit, which she wiped away.

The salty, musky taste was overpowering ... especially knowing it was her own—her body's—as much as it was Rosalie's. That's my own cum I'm tasting. Zoey was dizzy, and not entirely from the lack of air.

Rosalie, for her part, had collapsed into the bed, the intensity of her orgasm having exhausted her completely.

Her cock hadn't started to soften, and Zoey didn't plan to let it. She re-seized it and started stroking.

"Sorry, Rosie. No breaks. We're on a schedule, remember?"

"You're—you're a wicked woman," Rosalie whined. "That was … I can't even describe it ..."

"That was just the appetizer," Zoey teased. "Are you ready for the main course?"

Rosalie's eyes widened as she understood what Zoey was implying. Zoey shuffled overtop Rosalie, not giving her time to digest the news. She rubbed her pussy into the thick shaft—my own shaft—as she straddled Rosalie. The sensation was ... intense. Having her throat so violently used had worked her up … and even more so, the noises Rosalie had been making.

Zoey stared down, briefly hesitant, at the tool she was rubbing herself against. That's going in me? She had used strap-ons before, and they were fun enough. But fourteen inches of actual cock inside her? Under normal circumstances it wouldn't be appealing, but seeing how it was Rosalie's cock ... well, Zoey's insides squirmed with excitement as much as they did apprehension.

She lifted up her hips, settling Rosalie's cockhead to her entrance. She gave it a few rubs, shivering as the sensation of the pulsing heat rubbing into her, splitting her lower lips apart. There's no way it'll fit. But her skill should take care of that. It's going to feel so weird.

"Are you ready?" Zoey murmured.

To think Rosalie would be fucking Zoey's pussy before Zoey had gotten to do so to Rosalie's … Zoey would call it unfair, but she wasn't remotely displeased with the arrangement. Plus, Zoey wasn't a virgin, like she suspected Rosalie was. Zoey hadn't ever had a real cock inside her, but she'd had plenty of straps.

"R-Ready," Rosalie said, wide-eyed, staring down at her cock, lined up to Zoey's entrance.

"Remember," Zoey said. "No cumming until I do. I even let you finish once, so it'd be embarrassing if you can't outlast me."

The throat-job had been fun, but she hadn't been able to talk. This position, she could. Being able to tease Rosalie … Zoey suspected she was going to enjoy this method of pleasuring Rosalie much, much more.

Zoey's heart pounded in anticipation. She was so happy she was the one who got to provide this to Rosalie—her first time stuffing her thick cock into a warm, inviting pussy.

"It's so … so intense," Rosalie gasped. Her head visibly swam as Zoey continued to stroke her cockhead against her pussy.

Delta 's pussy?

Delta's pussy. She wondered what that was doing to Rosalie. Sure, it was Zoey in Delta's body, but having her cock lined to to Delta's entrance … about to thrust in and lose her cock-virginity to the fox-eared girl she had an obviously rivalry with.

That was sure to cause some … confusing thoughts in the future.

Maybe it 'll open them up to each other.

By the way Rosalie's eyes crawled across Zoey's body, she certainly appreciate Delta's curves.

Zoey grinned, then lowered herself.

Rosalie's cock penetrated her.

She 's in. Oh my god, she's in me.

Zoey groaned as her tight hole was filled up. The pressure was overwhelming, immediately; it stretched her open in such an incredible way. Zoey's head fell back and her eyes closed, a moan wrenching from her lips—mirrored by Rosalie. She sank down and down, her insides filling up with Rosalie's deliciously hot girlcock.

It was all too much. She felt like there wasn't enough room for everything, but ...

"You're so ... so big," Zoey groaned. "Fuck me."

"Now—now you know how I feel," Rosalie panted.

Zoey's hips moved of their own accord. She bounced up and down, working further onto the enormous pillar with every lewd thrust. Rosalie's cock worked its way up and up, cramming every inch of her gripping walls with pulsing girlcock, quickly stuffing into her stomach.

She couldn't have been halfway down before she felt Rosalie bottom out—felt a hot cockhead bumping into her cervix—but rather than hurting, like with her old girlfriends' straps, it felt incredible, even better than the euphoric pleasure from before. Guess that explains why no one minds. And Rosalie's cock kept going, anyway; her insides stretched out to accommodate her, and the stretch—the feeling of being split in two, the pressure against her cervix—erased Zoey's thoughts.

Zoey's ass hit Rosalie's thighs. Rosalie cried out, hands going to Zoey's hips and starting to buck. She shivered in delight as Rosalie's cock slid in and out of her, aided by Zoey's own bouncing.

"Do you like it?" Zoey panted. "Do you like Delta's pussy? Being squeezed and pleasured by such an annoying girl?

"Hey," Delta said, amused, in the background.

Zoey couldn't help but play into the body-swap. It made this so much hotter … as if having Rosalie inside her hadn't already been mind-melting, the bizarre dynamics of everyone being in different bodies added a second steaming layer of eroticism to situation.

Rosalie never would have responded with a 'yes' under normal circumstances, but Zoey's pussy wrapped around her cock coaxed out that beautiful honesty of hers.

"G-Gods … yes, Delta's pussy is so—so—"

"So what?"

"Tight," Rosalie groaned. Her hips picked up speed, slamming into Zoey with desperate fervency. "She's so fucking tight! It's squeezing me so hard! Delta feels so good around my cock!"

Loud slaps of flesh echoed in the room, punctuating each of their moans. Delta didn't respond, and Zoey was too lost in the heat for her to look over, see what her reaction at … this particular thing they'd focused on … was.

Rosalie and Zoey drifted in a haze of hot ecstasy, moans growing louder and the slapping of their lower bodies quickened. Zoey cared for nothing but the sensation of having Rosalie's dick slamming into her, and the noises Rosalie was making, the sensations coming with it. Hot girlcock pumped into her, stretching her open and rubbing against her most sensitive spots.

"You better not be close," Zoey panted. "You come when I tell you to. Understand?"

Rosalie was lost, shoving herself into and out of Zoey, so Zoey forced her hips to still, denying Rosalie's building pleasure.

"I said, do you understand?"

"Z-Zoey, please—I need to—"

"Not until I'm closer."

Rosalie groaned. "O-Okay. But how do I—"

"Figure it out." Zoey started grinding her hips again, using Rosalie's cock to stir her insides. "But no cumming until I say."

Their pace picked back up. For all Zoey's commanding of Rosalie, she wasn't faring much better herself. She held off the inevitable desperately, the burning climax growing as Rosalie pounded into her tight depths.

It was hard. Rosalie's cock was the most amazing thing she'd ever felt. Zoey's breath quickened as their efforts intensified, slaps of flesh getting faster and faster. The orgasm boiled just beneath her skin. The pressure built higher and higher.

"Z-Zoey, I can't, I can't—"

Zoey collapsed forward, pressing her chest into Rosalie's. She wanted to tease Rosalie longer … but she couldn't hold off, either. She panted into her ear, "Okay. Go ahead. Fill me up."

Rosalie's hands went to Zoey's ass, and her hips bucked with wild abandon. Hot girlmeat slid through her pussy with unmatched vigor. Rosalie made whining, incoherent noises directly into Zoey's ear. Zoey listened to them, floating away into a hot ether of ecstasy, even as she started to shake, the pressure reaching a climax.

Rosalie's whole body tensed and shuddered, and she cried out, her pumping coming to a sudden stop. A brief moment of burning anticipation, then the first spurt of hot batter burst into Zoey's insides with enough force she could feel the increase in pressure, the splatter of hot liquid into her womb.

Rosalie 's cumming inside me.

"Don't stop," Zoey groaned. "Keep going."

Rosalie forced her hips to keep pistoning, for her dick to keep pleasuring Zoey's insides, despite the instinct to freeze as she emptied herself. Her spasming dick shot thick ropes of girlcum deep inside Zoey, filling her full, coating her as they grinded their lower halves against each other.

"Z-Zoey!"

"Keep going, keep going," Zoey's gasps filled the air as euphoria wracked her. "You're doing so good—so—good—more, please, more."

Rosalie continued squirting into her. Zoey's vision turned white. Her mind was consumed by heat, pleasure. The slapping sound became less rhythmic and started sounding like squelching; Rosalie's cum coated between them, forced out of her pussy with the sheer quantity she was expelling. Every nerve ending in Zoey's body was electrified. Her body spasmed and twitched.

The climax washed over them, and finally Rosalie's pumping stopped.

Zoey rolled off Rosalie, exhausted, and her vision went white.

When the brief unconsciousness had passed, she was back in her own body, and a thoroughly cum-filled Rosalie-Delta laid next to her.

Chapter 40

Chapter Text

[A/N: Fetish content tags/warning: [Autofellatio] ]

"Wow." Zoey felt tingly all over from how intense her orgasm had been. Her insides were still sorely satisfied from being stuffed full of cock—regardless that she was back in her own body. Like the previous swap, her internal sensations and status had carried over.

"Wow, indeed," Delta said amusedly. "You two had fun, didn't you?"

Zoey cleared her throat, remembering the things she'd said to Rosalie—playing off the fact it was Delta's body she'd been using to fuck Rosalie.

Delta didn't seem to mind. She continued without even mentioning it. "I almost feel bad. You've got like three more left, minimum. Will that thing even still work?"

It's a gift from the goddess of eroticism. So yeah, probably. Every day that passed, Zoey was finding herself able to go longer and harder than before; Mel's thorough, many-orgasm session had done especially well to condition her. And the stamina potion had helped, too.

"Gimme like, a minute," Zoey said. "Fuck, that was good, Rosie." She patted Rosalie's stomach—which was Delta's stomach, now—to emphasize the statement.

Rosalie made some incoherent mumbling next to her that, presumably, meant she agreed. Zoey's first orgasm with a cock had been pretty intense, too, so she sympathized with Rosalie's brief inability to function.

Delta crawled over on all fours onto Zoey's lap. She straddled up to Zoey, rubbing Zoey's only half-softened cock against her dripping wet sex.

"Hold on," Zoey said, elbowing up. "Starting already? I said give me a second."

"I'm not going, don't worry," Delta said. "Just acquainting myself." Her hand rubbed up and down Zoey's length, quickly bringing the insatiable thing back to life.

"We should—um. Let's only use our hands and mouths?"

Delta paused her stroking. "Huh?"

Zoey glanced sideways, at a still half-way disabled Rosalie. Then back to Delta.

"I, um." Her voice dropped to a low whisper, trying to let only Delta hear her. "Me and Rosalie haven't ... and I kind of want to ..."

Delta picked up what she was saying without Zoey spelling it out. Again, for all she was reckless and spoke without thinking, she had a good intuition for people.

Her eyebrows did go up, though. Delta had made several allusions to the fact she thought the two of them were sleeping together ... and while they were, they hadn't actually gone all the way, yet.

Hence Zoey's request. Even if it was Delta in Rosalie's body, Zoey wanted her first time being inside Rosalie—inside in the most traditional sense—to be … y'know, with Rosalie actually in her own body.

"Sure," Delta said. "But when I'm in your body, I want to go inside. I only get a cock once. That's fine?"

Zoey paused. "I'll just have to go with Rosalie again, then me and you can do it with our own bodies, but swapped."

"You're gonna make me fuck myself?" Delta asked amusedly. "Actually—you know, that sounds pretty awesome. So that works with me."

Rosalie tuned in, having recovered from her brief post-orgasm fugue. "Pardon? What's happening?"

"Zoey wants your virginity," Delta replied breezily. "She doesn't want me in her body, fucking your pussy, or fucking yours, right now—even if everything's swapped up. So we're working out the logistics."

Can 't she be the smallest bit tactful?

Zoey sputtered, not having a clue how to explain the situation—and so did Rosalie, blushing.

But, Zoey noted, Rosalie didn't protest the reasoning.

She was spared from needing to address it, at least, by Delta moving things along, apparently becoming impatient. Or maybe purposefully sparing them. Delta shuffled around, spinning a hundred eighty degrees, so her back was faced to Zoey. She shuffled down her body, and Delta's pussy (Rosalie's) was suddenly in her face. A second later, a warm mouth wrapped around her cock.

Huh. Pretty easy way to sync things up. Good choice.

Zoey pulled Delta's lower body in and sank her tongue into Delta's depths. A moan ripped across Zoey's cock, extracted from Delta by Zoey's skilled tongue.

Delta's efforts were skilled, too. Wet, sucking sounds bounced around the room as she swallowed Zoey's length and worked her mouth up and down.

Delta's efforts weren't to her own satisfaction, though, because Delta grabbed hold of both of Zoey's thighs, using them for leverage to push herself further down. It was Zoey's turn to moan into Delta—which she apparently liked, based on how her hips squirmed back and forth, dragging her wet heat across Zoey's mouth.

Several wet, desperate minutes later, and some brief coordination, Zoey's hips were bucking in and out of Delta's throat as she vigilantly curled her tongue into Delta's pussy. They shook against each other as they came at the same time. While not as explosive as her encounter with Rosalie, it still had Zoey's vision whiting out—then, a few moments later, she woke up with her own cock crammed in her throat.

Delta watched Zoey—Rosalie? Gods, keeping things straight was getting kind of hilarious—roll off her body, choking as more than a foot of girlmeat slid from her throat.

The sensation—a tight throat sliding up and off Delta's cock—was a pretty auspicious start to her first experience with a cock.

My cock. Shit, that thing 's mine, now.

I'm seriously going to have to make it up to her. Zoey hadn't needed to fit in Delta's request, especially considering they were ostensibly in the middle of a boss fight, but she had, even against her girlfriend's protests. And sure, Delta had all but begged, because she really wanted to know what this thing was like, but it was still a favor. And Delta preferred to see favors repaid—to see the balance book settled.

While Zoey went about coughing—a common theme Delta was finding out to taking this absurd monster into one's throat—she inspected the impressive addition to her biology.

There was plenty to ogle on Zoey's body—more to ogle than to not—but Delta had eyes for one thing. The thick, veiny, towering slab of meat alight with nerve endings. It throbbed at full mast, not remotely put-out by its previous five or six emptyings. Then again, maybe that was because of Delta's own arousal. Even looking down at the thing attached between her legs had Delta's heart galloping. Of course it wasn't softening.

She reached down and wrapped her hand around it. It twitched at the attention, and she gasped as it pulsed in her hands. Her head swam.

This is so awesome.

How the hell had Zoey gotten so lucky to have this thing permanently? Delta only got it briefly ... for this shard, and probably never again.

That so wasn't fair.

She gave the thing a good pumping, and her hips bucked into her hand—the animal reaction had come entirely from how pleasurable the stroke had been.

"Damn," Delta said, wincing. "This thing's sensitive." Some of Zoey's behavior was starting to make sense. Delta was pretty used to keeping her libido in check—or at least working around it—but this thing was driving her thoughts wild. Though, some of that certainly had to do with how excited she was to use it. To feel Zoey's tight pussy clamped down on—

She cleared her throat. Down, girl. Zoey still had to swap with Rosalie—to get Delta's body—before Delta got to have any real fun. She shouldn't let herself get too worked up before then.

'Fun'. The fun being, of course, Delta fucking herself. That was going to be ... pretty awesome. Maybe some people would be put off by the oddness, but Delta, certainly not. It was a double-win: she both got to experience the sensation of having a cock, and she got to feel out what her own insides felt, wrapped around it.

A triple-win, actually. She got to fuck Zoey, too. Delta had a pretty casual relationship with sex, but that didn't mean the idea of a first-time with a girl as hot as Zoey didn't do anything for her.

They can't get this done with fast enough.

"Get it going, lovebirds," Delta said, gesturing at Rosalie—telling Zoey to hurry up. "Daylight's burning."

Zoey and Rosalie shared a look, then a blush, which Delta found kind of hilarious. The earlier reveal—that Zoey hadn't actually been inside Rosalie—had caught her off guard. Sure, Zoey had claimed such, but Delta honestly hadn't believed her. But by the request—Zoey wanting to save Rosalie's first time for herself—Delta did, now.

By how the two acted, she'd have figured they'd been all over each other. And they definitely had to some degree, just not in that way, apparently.

And now that she thought about it, they hadn't even kissed, not with Delta around. For all their attraction to each other was obvious to her, it seemed like they were still in the fumbling-about stages. It was pretty cute, if Delta were being honest.

Delta propped herself up against the headboard of the bed and watched Zoey get to work on the haughty old blood. Like usual, watching the stiff woman melt under intimacy was enjoyable to watch.

Though, how couldn't Rosalie come apart under Zoey's efforts? As Delta had just experienced, Zoey knew what she was doing. That tongue had done wicked things to her. She could hardly blame Rosalie.

While she enjoyed the show, Delta acquainted herself to the thing between her legs.

Okay, girl. Let's see what you're made of. She'd given it a few strokes already, but she hadn't explored it remotely to the lengths she wanted to.

First, she tried to get a sense of how big it was. Massive was the obvious descriptor—but exactly how big? She lined a hand up, placing the base of her palm into her crotch. Her middle finger reached almost exactly the halfway point. Moving her hand up again, she confirmed: about two Zoey hand lengths. And Zoey was pretty tall, so—Maker, a huge fucking cock.

I could totally reach it with my mouth. And seeing how she only had this one opportunity...

Delta glanced sideways at Rosalie and Zoey. The two were rather occupied, with both their faces stuffed between each other's legs, in a similar position Delta and Zoey had been in a second ago.

And what would Delta care if they watched this horribly degenerate thing she was about to do, anyway? She shrugged. Fuck it. I'm sure Zoey's done it, too.

She shuffled herself into a better position, then, gripping her own thighs, helped push her lower half closer to her face.

A giant cock pressed into her lips. Pre-cum leaked from it, coating her with the slippery stuff. Delta's heart slammed in her chest, and her face blazed. I'm really going to do this? Despite her previous quick decision, she hesitated.

Fuck it.

Delta let her lips part, and she pushed her head forward. Her mouth wrapped around a radiating heat, filling up with throbbing cock—her own cock.

I have my own cock in my mouth.

She sucked and ran a tongue around it, pleasuring herself with wet, sloppy kisses. She groaned at the sensation, and the groan—the vibrating noise pressed against her sensitive head—thrilled through her.

I have my own fucking cock in my mouth.

Best day ever.

The vestiges of her hesitation fell away. Delta gripped her own ass and pressed herself down, getting her cock deeper into her mouth, until it was pressing against the back of her throat. She sucked and bobbed, shooting electricity along the shaft as she worked it over. It felt too good. Delta couldn't help herself; she needed more. She opened wide and shoved herself down, taking it inside her throat. She choked as it stretched her neck muscles out of place, distending her open.

This is ... so fucking awesome, she internally moaned. My throat feels so good. Her throat. Her own throat. She bobbed and thrusted with the aid of her hands shoving her lower body into her face. It was an awkward position, and undoubtedly degenerate if someone were to look at her, but she didn't care. The slippery pleasuring of her throat was erasing her thoughts. She drowned in pleasure. Fuck. I'm going to cum into my own mouth. The realization only had Delta bucking her hips faster and faster, the need coursing through her so intensely she thought she might melt.

Her climax surged through her, arriving all at once. She groaned, but continued to thrust her cock into and out of her throat, bringing herself to a burning crescendo. Her cock clenched, and a hot spurt of girl jizz ejected into her.

She felt the heat streak down her throat, and she swallowed it down, the taste of her own essence filling her mouth. Her orgasm wracked through her violently. Her stomach and cock clenched and unclenched as she filled herself with her own cum, stuffing her tummy with hot seed.

More ... fuck, give me more. She only wished she could get further down. Delta was flexible, but she couldn't bury herself all the way. Still, it was enough. Delta's eager tongue and throat pleasured her own cock until she'd emptied herself.

Her cock slid from her throat, and she collapsed back into the pillows, panting.

Chapter 41

Chapter Text

Hilariously, Zoey and Rosalie hadn't noticed what Delta had just done. When Delta returned from cloud-nine from having stuffed about a bucket of her own cum down her throat, Zoey and Rosalie were just finishing up. They came to climax together, and, a short moment later, she saw the two girls collapse—then stir to consciousness, the body-swap taking place.

They have no idea I just face-fucked myself. It was amusing for a reason she couldn't fully place. And the smallest bit relieving. Delta wasn't a shameful person, but something like that ... well, she'd own it if she had to, but the teasing from Zoey would've been brutal.

"Took you long enough," Delta said.

"Hnnn," Zoey complained. "I can't believe I have to go two more times."

"You're complaining about too many orgasms?" Delta put a hand to her chest in mock-offense. "We're only good for a few, are we?"

Zoey eyed her. "I'm tired, okay?"

"Hm. Then sit back and enjoy yourself. I'll do all the work." Delta didn't want Zoey taking charge, anyway. If she had a cock, she wanted to be the active participant. While having someone ride her sounded amazing, the idea of pinning Zoey down and fucking her into oblivion sounded a hundred times better.

Zoey considered the offer. "You know ... that doesn't sound half bad."

Delta crawled toward her, grinning.

Zoey blanched. "Hey. Give me a second, won't you?"

"Nope," Delta said. "Been waiting long enough." She pushed the other girl down. Zoey's orange hair splayed out, and she adjusted the tail trapped underneath her.

The movement was awkward enough it made it clear she hadn't accustomed herself to her biological changes. For that matter, Delta hadn't either, even if she'd been wearing Rosalie's human body before she had Zoey's. Human ears were weird. And not having a tail. Keeping her balance had been ten times harder than normal.

Delta split Zoey's legs open with her hands, baring Zoey's pussy—my pussy?—to the air. Zoey blushed, her knees closing instinctively, before slowly opening up again at Delta's insistence. Earlier, Zoey had said Not-Zoey—back when she'd still been wearing their personalities accurately—had become far more timid when she'd lost her cock, and the change of the dynamic. It seemed the same was true here.

She's a switch, Delta thought amusedly. Zoey could—and indeed, apparently liked—filling both roles, submissive or dominant. When it came to the blonde girl, Zoey naturally filled the role of a top. But now that Delta was taking charge, she meekly fell into the other role. And it didn't even seem like an act, but her natural reactions.

Delta was a bit the same way. She could fill either role. Definitely preferred topping, though.

She lined her cock up and tapped it against Zoey's sensitive area, her entire body thrilling with the idea it was her own pussy that Delta was slapping her cock into. It made loud, lewd claps with every impact—Zoey's cock had a lot of weight to it.

"Fuck, this is going to be so amazing," Delta murmured. Tell her two days ago that she'd be fucking herself, in someone else's body, with a giant cock, and she'd understandably have laughed. Shards could be weird, but this went beyond weird.

To her benefit.

She lined her cockhead up to Zoey's entrance. Zoey panted in anticipation, and the needy, excited look had Delta's next words springing to her lips. "Now, now, naughty girl. Don't look so excited that you're about to be fucked by your own cock."

"Says the girl about to fuck her own pussy," Zoey shot back. "Hurry up. Put it in."

Delta didn't need to be told twice. She pressed forward, letting her cock spread Zoey's pussy lips apart. Zoey moaned as she was filled up, stretching to accommodate Delta's size.

"Fuck." Delta was burying herself into her own pussy. That tight, clamping feeling, the wet heat she was enveloped by. Her own. She couldn't help herself; her better sense erased at the pleasure. She leaned forward, then slammed her hips into Zoey, burying herself in one smooth, harsh movement.

"F-Fuck," Zoey cried out, her insides crammed full by fourteen inches in less than a second. She writhed under Delta, groaning. "A-Asshole!"

Delta pinned Zoey's arms down. She briefly considered apologizing, but she was lost to the sensation, the heat of the moment. And Zoey, despite her complaining, didn't seem actually upset. Sure, it might've hurt a bit ... but Zoey's panting and squirming didn't suggest she wanted Delta to stop.

Delta pulled back and slammed her entire length inside of her own tight pussy a second time, then a third, and a fourth. Her hips smashed into the other girl over and over in a brutal rhythm. Delta wasn't taking it slow and easy. Not gentle. The bed creaked with Delta's powerful thrusts.

"I said I wanted to fuck you," Delta said, and it was half a growl. She didn't know what was coming over her, but it was powerful and intoxicating. This thing between her legs hadn't changed her, but it'd drawn something out she hadn't known was there. She wanted to punish the cute girl beneath her—have her crying out and begging for more. "I only get this thing once, so I'm making good use of it." Her hips pumped back and forth to emphasize her point, slapping her lower half into Zoey with violent, harsh impacts.

Zoey's tits bounced with the motion, and Delta admired the sight—even if it was her own body jiggling underneath the lewd thrusts, Delta's own tits bouncing. I have a nice pair, she thought amusedly, somewhere behind the haze of lust. Is that narcissistic?

Zoey's whining amplified as Delta worked up speed, pounding away. The feeling of having a tight pussy squeezing around her cock ... she loved it so much. She despaired, briefly, that she could only experience this sensation once.

"Fuck," Zoey panted. "You feel—you feel so good inside me." Her eyes were glazing over with pleasure. Delta wasn't the only one losing herself to the perversion of the moment. Delta fucking herself—and Zoey fucking herself too, in a way. And receiving, not giving, like she had with Not-Zoey. This girl really had gotten to explore every variation of this shard. If only Delta could've been so lucky.

But those thoughts were in the back of her head. The primal part was focused on the squirming, busty orange-haired girl she was pumping her cock into. Delta's chest swelled with a dominating satisfaction at seeing it. Her cock—her cock had this girl squirming, addled with lust.

"That's right," she grunted out through clenched teeth. She was close to getting off, but she fought against the feeling. She wanted to drag this out, and she absolutely refused for it to be over so fast. She'd punish Zoey much, much more thoroughly than this before she allowed herself to cum. "My little slut is going to milk my cock dry, isn't she?" Zoey had made it clear how much she liked dirty talk, and Delta was happy to provide. She'd be a liar if she said she didn't like it, too.

"Yes," Zoey groaned. "She will. She'll milk you as best she can. Use her pussy however you want."

Delta growled and gripped Zoey's hips, hammering forward with renewed vigor. As her lewd words suggested, Zoey's pussy milked and squeezed against her length with almost disorienting strength; like Zoey had some magical force aiding the coaxing motions her lower half was able to provide. Or were pussies just this tight? And massaging? Delta's first time, and everything. Fuck. Why does she feel so good? How am I supposed to last?

Zoey cried out and grabbed onto the bed sheets as Delta slapped herself into her. It took all of her self-control not to lose herself in the sensations of her cock—her cock—in the other girl's tight pussy. She was only a half-step away from cumming.

"C-Close," Zoey cried. "I'm close. I'm, I'm—"

Delta pumped harder, faster, shaking the entire bed with her violent motions.

Zoey finally started to writhe beneath her, and Delta, unfortunately, couldn't help herself. She let go too. So fast … it's not fair …

The sudden release sent a flood of pleasure coursing through her body, triggering an explosion of orgasmic energy that wracked through her. The force of it made her bite down on her lip, and she almost drew blood as whines escaped her clenched jaw. It felt almost too good to believe. Like a sensation that couldn't, or shouldn't, exist.

Zoey trembled beneath her as Delta pumped torrents of hot seed inside her. Inside Zoey. Inside herself, Delta's own body. I'm breeding myself, she realized with burning-hot clarity. Myself, and Zoey, at the same time. Delta's mind washed with bliss, and as much as the ecstasy was from the sensation of being milked by Zoey's tight pussy, it was the knowledge she was cumming into her own body that had her consciousness erasing, drifting off into an ether of hot, erasing pleasure.

Impregnating herself. Filling her own womb with hot white seed. Every drop—she wanted every drop in there. Her cock convulsed with her desire. She pumped so much into Zoey Delta almost couldn't believe it.

The euphoria faded slowly. With one last pulse, and a finishing slap of lower body against lower body, Delta finished, having emptied every drop out. She fell sideways, into the sheets, abruptly dizzy.

Like had happened before, her vision went white—

And she woke up in her own body, her pussy crammed full of Zoey's seed. It flowed out of her, Zoey having fallen back into the bedsheets too.

Delta came to her senses slowly. She pushed herself up. Zoey's cum pooled in the bed beneath her. Zoey's cock, used by all three of them at this point, had seriously drenched the thing. Truth told, it was getting a bit gross how covered the bed, sheets, and everything else was. The sheets were squishy.

"Well," Zoey said, staring up at the ceiling. "Did it meet expectations?"

"I'm so fucking jealous," she answered, still coming down from her euphoria. "It's so, so not fair." Delta wanted a cock ... she wanted one so badly she actually felt like throwing a tantrum. Instead, she settled for pouting. Why couldn't I last longer? Delta had thought she had good control over herself. It'd just been way too sensitive.

"We're all back in our bodies," Rosalie said. Her cheeks were red; she'd spectated plenty of that ... event. "Get up. I have a feeling we're not going to be given a grace period." She was looking up into the rafters of the arena-like room, where Delta realized their spectator—Not-Zoey, Not-Delta, whatever that creature was—had vanished.

She's probably right. Delta groaned as she forced her head to stop swimming. She'd been fucked so thoroughly it was hard to think, and her muscles were sore ... something not easy to accomplish as a second-advancement Wayfarer. Cum still pumped out of her pussy. Why did Zoey have to cum so much?

Though Delta supposed that was her fault, as much as Zoey's. My own cum, pumping out of me. That had been the thrilling thought that had Delta emptying herself so thoroughly.

"It would be highly rude," Delta announced to the air, "to attack us right now. Have some sympathy, won't you?"

A chuckle appeared from nowhere, echoing through the room, and setting the hairs on Delta's neck prickling.

I'm guessing that's a no.

"Time for the final phase," Rosalie muttered.

Chapter 42

Chapter Text

Even if Not-Zoey (the reflection? Zoey needed a better name for the creature, seeing how she shifted forms constantly) gave it her best effort to kill the three of them, and Zoey in specific, with her being the weak link, Zoey was glad they didn't need to do the same—only defeat her.

The fight was a blur. Even more so than the first phase, the second—or third, depending on perspective—showcased just how thoroughly Zoey was outclassed by her two teammates. And by the shard boss herself.

But Rosalie and Delta pulled through. It happened in a way that didn't make complete sense to Zoey, to be honest. One moment the reflection was looking worn down but otherwise as fluid and violent as ever, and the next she collapsed forward, plate-glass daggers skittering across the ground.

"Ah, shit," Not-Delta said. "Okay, okay. You got me."

Zoey's heart pounded in her chest, the abrupt stop disorienting her. Her teammates didn't need a second to gather themselves. They weren't … well, amateurs, like Zoey. A tough fight might get their blood pumping, but it didn't leave them shaking and disoriented.

Then again, to the smallest possible defense on Zoey's part, they hadn't been the boss's chosen target.

Not-Delta lay on the ground, chest heaving up and down as she stared at the ceiling. Zoey supposed it could be a ruse—that she wasn't actually out for the count—but she doubted it. Not so much on her own intuition, but by the way Delta and Rosalie approached, taking the surrender at face value. If they thought the defeat real, enough to approach while holding their weapons aside, then it must be.

Rosalie frowned down at the creature, leaning against her spear.

"I know it's your job," Delta said, "but going only for Zoey was kind of a bitch move."

Not-Delta huffed. "I knew what I was in for, with you two. Had to try to win, didn't I?"

"The loot," Rosalie said, apparently not caring to follow that conversation down its obvious path. "Where's it hidden?"

"Underneath the bed."

With one more disdainful look, she turned and headed that way.

"Should we kill her to be safe?" Delta called.

Zoey's skin prickled, even if she had learned from Mel that boss monsters respawned when killed—reformed from whatever enigmatic energy fueled shards, formed their magical loot, and all its other perplexing functions.

"I don't think that's necessary," Zoey said.

Delta glanced at her, then to Rosalie—who shrugged, an apparent 'no'. Delta's daggers vanished into her inventory. She'd used a bow for the start of the fight—her natural choice of weapon—but with how tightly the reflection was keeping to Zoey, she had figured a melee weapon smarter.

"I can barely lift my head up." The reflection chuckled, then shrugged. "Not that I can prove it. Just go loot and head out—the exit's down there, too."

Delta hesitated, then did so. Zoey followed after.

"And sorry for tricking you, Zoey," the reflection called out. "Part of the game, you know?"

Zoey paused, glancing over her shoulder. To say she had mixed feelings on the creature was understating it.

She said nothing, continuing forward.

Rosalie had shifted the bed out of the way, revealing a trapdoor. She leaned forward and gripped the handle, then, with a heave, and flexing of her muscles, ripped the huge metal slab up and tossed it to the side. It impacted the ground with a heavy clang—the kind of noise an anvil would make when being tossed aside.

Sometimes Zoey forgot just how strong Rosalie was. Her class was half attack oriented, and half defense—a brawler, so to say. So while she wasn't the strongest a person could be for her advancement, she still had some serious oomph in her movements when she needed to bring it to bear.

Rosalie spared a look for them, something hard to read, then shuffled down the ladder.

"She's on edge," Delta said.

"I was thinking the same thing."

"It's 'cause of you."

Zoey grimaced. "I know."

Delta patted her on the back sympathetically, then clambered down the trapdoor after Rosalie.

Delta meant, of course, the danger Zoey had been in. Rosalie had been hard-pressed to fend off the reflection's assault, and the cuts and bruises Zoey had accrued proved it. Any of those, she knew, could have been much worse than glancing blows. Zoey didn't have the supernatural strength Rosalie did; if she took a direct hit from the reflection, it would've been … well, as fatal as a knife into the gut of any normal person. Maybe slightly less, considering they had health potions. But not easily brushed.

Zoey knew rationally she shouldn't be ashamed at her incompetence, but she was. Hardly her fault. She was some girl from twenty-first century Earth. Swordsmanship, footwork, and spellcasting hadn't been in her highschool curriculum. So of course she was incompetent.

And Rosalie wasn't on edge because Zoey was proving herself a poor teammate—though true, despite the powerful advantages she offered—but because she'd been shown that setting a brutal pace might get Zoey killed. And for all Rosalie had made allusions to 'doing whatever needed to be done', Zoey … didn't think that would extend to repeatedly placing Zoey into life-threatening situations. Because that would end one way. And however determined for success Rosalie was, she wouldn't get Zoey killed.

Had her time delving with Rosalie come to an end, because of this shard? And what it had proven? Or at least what it had highlighted? She was sure Rosalie had recognized the threat in some rational sense. In the same way Zoey had.

She followed her two teammates down the trap door.

At least she had something to distract herself with. Zoey's troubled thoughts faded, focusing instead on the chests laid across the room.

The descent down the trapdoor had led into a tight warehouse-like room, with none of the majesty and breath-taking design of the arena up above. Like usual, a swirling black portal was tucked away at the back, between the four chests.

Four chests—all with a blue band around them. Zoey's eyebrows briefly shot up, before remembering what three of them were.

"Holy shit," Delta said.

"It's our inventories," Zoey clarified. This was Delta's first time down in a shard, so her surprise was justified. "Though, only three of them."

One of the 'superior' rated chests, with a band of sapphire wrapping the dilapidated wood, would have actual loot. Presumably, some of the best they'd found yet.

And considering what loot looked like for her party, Zoey was intensely interested. Enough to wipe away her earlier concerns over what her future with Rosalie looked like—and Delta, for that matter—now that Zoey had showcased her ineptitude, and the risk of pushing through dangerous shards.

That, and because there wasn't much point worrying. She continued to be an expert at ignoring the looming future.

"A superior chest," Rosalie said. She sounded almost affronted, rather than pleased. "For such a short shard. This is all so … ridiculous."

"That's one way to put it," Delta said, clicking open the first of the chests. She pulled out a pair of white spellcasting gloves, paused, then waggled it at Zoey. "This one's yours."

With a short effort, the three of them found their respective chests and went about emptying the contents into their inventories. The last chest would come after, once they'd taken care of the prerequisite chore.

That done, they turned their attention to the real loot.

[Linking Plate: Rare. Allows spatial transmission between self and linked entity.

Huh?

Zoey wasn't the only one to not understand, immediately.

"What's a 'linked entity'?" Delta asked.

"I'm assuming it's referencing an item that'll come after." Rosalie, like usual, had the best idea of what was going on, even more so than Delta. She frowned down at the smooth, hand-sized white circle. It was utterly nondescript.

Rosalie's guess demonstrated itself as correct when she pulled out the second item.

[Panties of Spatial Shifting: Rare. When worn, genitals are spatially transmitted to the attuned Linking Plate.

Zoey didn't know how many bizarre items it would take before she started being able to take their descriptions in stride, but not this one.

"Spatially transmitted?" Zoey asked. "Like … ?"

"Panties that teleport cocks?" Delta asked, equally bemused.

"Genitals," Rosalie corrected. "I presume it would work with ours, too." She paused, then wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. "And also … of course we get something like this. But I can't imagine what in the world it would be used for."

"I can imagine a dozen things," Delta said, grinning. "And I bet Zoey can, too."

Zoey coughed. She could. More than a dozen, honestly, and each one more exciting than the last. It didn't matter that she'd just been through a literal crucible of sex with her teammates … the kind of degeneracy that could be accomplished with this item had Zoey's heart rate picking up.

"Try them on," Delta said. "I wanna see."

"Without identifying the item?" Rosalie asked.

"Oh, come on. We've been through this."

"It's good practice. And now that the shard's over, you don't have an excuse."

"Sure. But, counter point: I want to see it now, not later."

Zoey stifled a laugh, which Rosalie glared at.

Rosalie passed over the pink fabric. "Whatever. Do what you want. If there's unforeseen side effects, it's on you two."

Well, Zoey didn't think Rosalie would have handed them over if she thought there was a threat of serious harm, so Zoey was willing to take a small risk to sate her curiosity. She leaned closer to Delta's view on this than she did Rosalie's.

She inspected the item first. They were small, soft, and pale pink. Inside was a shimmering black portal, much the same as found in chests, or doorways into and out of shards.

She hadn't worn panties in a while. Or … actually only a few days, but a few days which had felt like an eternity. Zoey'd gotten mostly used to cramming her junk into loose-fitting boxers and pants out of sheer necessity.

"You know, this solves that problem," Zoey said in realization. "That's convenient."

"Problem?"

Er, she'd skipped a step. "Having to wear boxers and loose-fitting pants. To avoid—you know. Being seen."

"Shit," Delta said, laughing. "We found you a panties of holding, didn't we? You can just store it in a backpack, or at home. That's awesome." Her eyebrows raised. "Or with one of us. Who gets to be the Keeper of the Dick, Zoey?"

That was … colorful phrasing. Zoey shook her head in amusement, and Rosalie, predictably, flushed.

"Princess will, I know," Delta sighed dramatically. "She'd fight me if I tried to be."

"Why can't I be the keeper of my own dick?" Zoey asked.

"Uh, hello? Boring?" She waved for Zoey to hurry up. "Put them on."

Zoey slipped her legs into the fabric, then tugged them up. She guided her cock—with a brief hesitance—into the murky black portal.

They popped out of the white plate-glass Rosalie was holding. Rosalie startled the smallest amount, despite having expected it.

Zoey situated the panties so they were comfortable, then patted her crotch, as amazed by the sudden lack of protrusion as she was the spatial teleportation.

"Holy fuck," Delta said. "That's so awesome."

Rosalie was holding the plate-glass away from her body, as if disgusted—though Zoey knew it was more incredulity than anything. Her cock drooped over the side, soft from their thorough adventures earlier.

Delta stepped forward and flicked it. Gently—but enough to surprise her. Zoey's hands shot to her crotch and she stepped back.

"Ow." It hadn't hurt, but it was a default response. "Woah. That's weird." Her hands had shot between her legs, but where she should've felt the press of her hands guarding her cock from further flicks, she only felt pressure on her thighs, where her hands brushed. Because—well, her cock wasn't between her legs, anymore.

Rosalie held Zoey's cock away from Delta, at least.

"See," Zoey said. "This is why she's the Keeper of the Dick. She's taking good care of it."

"Oh, I bet she will be," Delta sneered.

"You two are ridiculous." Rosalie huffed, then held the object out to Zoey. "Take it. It's yours."

Zoey accepted her cock. She turned the object in her hands, inspecting her member from angles normally impossible for her.

Seriously … so weird.

"You could use it as a dildo," Delta said.

Zoey'd been trying not to think of that, to little success. "What happens if I put it in my inventory?"

Both Rosalie and Delta paused.

Delta tilted her head. "Huh, I wonder."

"Don't try it," Rosalie said.

"No intentions." When it came to experimenting with strange magical artifacts, she would stick with the option that didn't have the potential of suddenly vaporizing her cock.

As, you know. Most people would.

"Aw, but now I'm curious," Delta said.

"We can have an artificer inspect it," Rosalie said. "If they say it's safe, then she can."

Zoey agreed with that appraisal. She'd been willing to take the small risk of testing the item in the way it was intended, but questionable behavior, like putting it into her inventory while active, she would hold off on.

She paid attention back to the object in her hand. She wiggled it side to side, seeing—and feeling—her cock flop around. It felt weird. Her cock shouldn't be flopping, and bumping against glass-like material, when Zoey was standing still.

"Here, let me see it," Delta said, holding her hand out.

Zoey hesitated.

What was the worst that could happen?

Chapter 43

Chapter Text

"Imagine this," Delta said, placing the linking plate to her pelvis. She wiggled her hips side to side, making Zoey's cock flop around. "I'll wear it, and fuck you. It'll be like good old times."

"Good old times?" Zoey asked. "That happened fifteen minutes ago."

"I know." Delta pouted. "I miss having it already. Seriously, it's so unfair. But come on." She gave another wiggle of her hips. "This isn't doing anything for you?"

By the fact it was starting to swell, Zoey's body answered for her.

"You pervert," Delta said approvingly. "It totally does. Hey, how about—can I borrow it for a night out? Take it around town, on lease?"

That was … an idea and a half.

Zoey could just be out and about, taking care of errands, while Delta was using her cock to fuck other girls? Something about the idea had Zoey going wild. She'd never had an exhibitionist kink, but Delta's suggestion … did some things for her.

As the now fully erect member indicated.

"Give that thing to me," Rosalie huffed. She snatched Zoey's cock away from Delta's pelvis. "Stop playing with it."

Zoey gasped at the tugging of her sensitive skin. Rosalie had grabbed it by the shaft, and just because it was weirdly disembodied didn't mean the sensation had gone anywhere.

The two girls spared a glance for Zoey, noting her reaction, and the way she'd tensed up, but quickly returned to their annoyance with each other.

Rosalie jabbed at Delta's direction with it. "It's not a toy."

"Uh, hello?" Delta pointed at Zoey's crotch. "Yes, it is."

Zoey looked down. Right. She'd almost forgotten. In thick, bolded ink, the words 'DELTA & ROSIE'S FAVORITE TOY' were written on her pelvis. For that matter, everyone's body-writing remained. Except since Delta and Rosalie were back in their respective bodies, it was Rosalie with the 'SHAMELESS WHORE' across her tits, and Delta with the 'HUGE GIRL COCKS ONLY 3' above her pussy.

Rosalie colored, looking at the words on Zoey's pelvis that amusingly contradicted her claim of, 'it's not a toy'. She turned back to Delta and huffed. "Treat it with respect."

Says you? Zoey thought amusedly. Rosalie was the one waving it around. "Can you, um, hold it by the plate, at least?" Rosalie's tight grip around her already-stimulated cock wasn't doing great things for Zoey's composure.

Another spared glance, then a flush, and Rosalie adjusted the cock in her hands, so she was gripping the glass instead of Zoey's shaft.

"Can we please focus?" Rosalie demanded. She eyed Zoey's cock. "What am I … what am I even supposed to do with this? It's more convenient to have it between your legs."

"You're just trying to get her out of her panties, again," Delta mocked. "You miss your eye candy."

"You can keep working through the chest," Zoey told Rosalie, not knowing whether to be exasperated or amused by this whole debacle. "And give it back, please?"

"Will you two stop playing with it?" Rosalie asked.

"It's my cock." Zoey held her hand out.

Rosalie eyed her, but returned the item. She could hardly refuse.

'The item'? Zoey thought.

Her cock.

Rosalie was right that it was more convenient, though. Having it between her legs was easier. In this form, it was an item she had to carry around, and which she couldn't put into her inventory. Not until they confirmed doing so was safe.

Still. It was pretty neat. And the possibilities … so many of them her head spun. Though, that would need to wait for later.

How was Zoey excited for more fun, after the absolute crucible she'd been through? The thing between her legs really was insatiable.

She slipped the panties off, then vanished it into her inventory. Her cock returned to being between her legs. Which, let Zoey note, wasn't a sentence she'd ever thought she'd make inside her head.

She intended to use the artifact daily, but for right this moment, it was better set aside.

"Boo," Delta said. "I would've carried it around for you. It's so cool."

Yeah, I 'm sure that would've ended well.

Further discussion was cut off by Rosalie's withdrawal of the next item.

[Mirror of Deep Echoes: Rare. Once a day, swap physical form with the target on the opposite side of the mirror.

"Oh my gods, yes." A smile had split across Delta's face so fast it was comical, and she bounced on the heels of her feet, doing some things to her chest which Zoey tried not to focus on. "That means I can have a cock again!" She paused, glancing at Zoey. "Right?" A step forward. "You'll let me, won't you?"

"You can borrow my body," Zoey said, putting her hands up appeasingly. "I don't know how often, but sure."

Delta scooped Zoey up in a hug, which, again, they were all still naked. Zoey's briefly softening cock sprung back up, which Delta ignored.

"You're the best," Delta laughed. "Seriously. I can't believe there's a way I can have fun with it again. Best shard ever."

Zoey returned the hug, patting her on the back. Man. She's really happy about this. Delta must have had a lot of fun using her cock.

Which, uh, had been pretty obvious. And Zoey had had a lot of fun with her using it, too.

"Target," Rosalie said. "It doesn't specify what kind. Would it work with stranger entities, too?"

"What, like a dungeon monster?" Delta asked, letting Zoey go. "I know you're a freak under that hoity-toity princess shit, but isn't getting railed by a shard monster going a little far? Even if it's Zoey in there?"

Rosalie's eyes widened in incredulity. She couldn't even get the statement out, simply sputtering. "You—I don't—are you implying I would—you disgusting woman."

"I mean, I'd try it," Delta said, flashing a grin at Zoey.

Zoey cleared her throat. She guessed she wasn't wholly against the idea, but it would depend on the so-called monster. Some would be palatable, she guessed. Like … shit, she didn't know. A tentacle monster? Definitely a slime, like Mel. That'd be a fun body to pilot for a bit. But some, or even most monsters, she guessed, not so much her thing.

"Let's shelve that topic," Zoey suggested. "What's next?"

"And where's all the practical stuff, anyway?" Delta asked.

"Comes after." Usually, at least. For some reason, the lewd items tended to be frontloaded in the chest, before tapering off into the more 'normal' items.

The next thing out was oddly familiar.

[Stud of Oral Ecstasy: Uncommon. Transforms the user's mouth into an erogenous zone.

"Huh?" Delta said. "What's that mean?"

Rosalie disdainfully dropped the silver jewelry into Zoey's hand. Zoey turned it over, inspecting the item. It wasn't too different from the tongue stud Zoey had put to great use on Rosalie—the one that let her give magically enhanced head.

"Erogenous zone," Zoey said. "So, like, sensitive? In that way?"

"A mouth-pussy?" Delta said amusedly. "Literally? But why?"

Zoey shrugged. "Maybe it gives a buff when you get off with it? Not all of the lewd items have practical side effects." Like the cock-ring that had gone unfortunately unused in their short stay at Treyhull. Though, now that she thought about it, a cock-ring that denied orgasms could have been useful in today's events, seeing how syncing climaxes up had been part of the game. Not crucial, but useful.

She wished she had a chance to try it out just for fun, though. Or rather, Rosalie try it out on her. Their schedule really was too packed. There were a lot of things she'd like to get to, but which Rosalie's quick pace had meant they couldn't.

Like usual, the chest included a potential brewing ingredient.

[Twinrose: An unidentified alchemy reagent. Two red flowers entwine into each other, preserved but delicate.

Zoey paused. It was the first time she'd ran into a reagent that didn't offer even a hint of what it might create.

"What's it say?"

"Unidentified," Zoey said with a shrug. "Probably'll have to ask Sabina about it."

"Sabina?" Delta asked.

"Our alchemy contact," Zoey said. "She'll be giving me lessons once we get back."

"Ah."

They worked through the chest, item by item. Like normal, the best items had been first. She received a few more alchemy reagents, which were sure to be fun to tease out their uses with Sabina. And while they didn't receive any more fascinating pieces of equipment like the Panties of Spatial Shifting, or the mirror that let them swap bodies, they received a smattering of loot that could, presumably, be wielded on future delves.

Which Rosalie didn't seem pleased by, and Delta highly amused. As seemed to be the recurring reaction.

Namely: a pair of black thigh-highs, another pair of panties that were more air than lace, and an intricately designed metal bra that distinctly didn't cover up the most important parts of what it should.

Rosalie had her vine armor—which she had unequipped as soon as it had become unnecessary—but most of the armor could fit underneath it, if she deemed it worthwhile. But they would be having the pieces identified, especially now that the shard had been completed. No reason to bind them now, when they might not even be worth keeping. Though difficult, finding buyers for equipment as odd as what they had wouldn't be impossible.

"We'll handle the divvying out when we get back to Treyhull and have it appraised," Rosalie said.

Delta nodded in agreement.

The chest emptied, they were ostensibly done with the shard. The three of them walked to the swirling black portal and stared at it.

There was an understated air of … not tension, but … uncertainty coming from Rosalie. Zoey knew what it was from—exactly what Zoey had been worrying herself over. Zoey's position in the party, especially if these two wanted to keep working to higher and higher shards. She could imagine the questions running in Rosalie's head: was Zoey's class, the ability she provided to evolve their runes faster, worth putting her in danger? Was it valuable enough to team up with her?

Zoey would like to believe she and Rosalie had something, and that Rosalie's decisions wouldn't be made purely out of practicality. But that might be the exact reason she would decide this adventure of theirs would be their last. Zoey's safety might come higher, even if she decided Zoey's class was worth the liability from a selfish standpoint.

Delta caught the mood, side-eying them both. Though she'd joined the dynamic in no small way, whatever Zoey and Rosalie had, Delta hadn't quite developed the same with either of them. Zoey had a fondness for the fox-girl—maybe even more than a fondness—but Zoey's crush on Rosalie was much more pronounced. And by Rosalie's reactions—if not her words—maybe that was returned.

The departure from their first shard had been hopeful, with Zoey entering the black portal with a bounce to her step.

The second shard's exit was muted, and the smallest bit heavy.

Chapter 44

Chapter Text

"Snow," Delta complained. "Fucking snow. Can't ever have an easy exit realm, can I?"

Progress to the nearest outpost was crawling along, thanks to what Delta had complained about—and had been complaining about for the past hour. Unlike a forest, or even a rocky, hilly terrain, traversing across a snow-covered tundra meant sluggish, impeded advancement.

Even worse, visibility was awful. Though far from a blizzard, a snow storm—snow drizzle?—occluded their sight for more than a few dozen feet in any direction. That would be annoying in the best of cases, trying to reach a destination a person knew by heart. But here? Lost in a foreign pocket-dimension, seeking signs of life to find an outpost? Even worse.

They might be walking for a while.

At least Delta's complaining broke the monotony.

Not.

"Like, I don't even care it's hard to walk in. But it gets fucking everywhere. My eyebrows are frozen. This is so stupid."

Now, Zoey considered herself a tolerant person. She didn't mind when people complained. She did a lot of complaining herself in 'bullshit circumstances'. But Delta had really been going at it. Her lack of filter didn't, apparently, only apply to saying crass things or making inappropriate observations. When she was uncomfortable, or displeased, she had no problems voicing it.

To anyone in ear shot.

Honestly, Zoey was surprised Rosalie hadn't said anything. That might've been the most damning indicator to how lost in thought she was. Had Delta been this loud and persistently complaining on their trip to the shard, rather than away from it, then Rosalie would've been all over her. It would've been twice as noisy—three times, even, as they bickered.

Instead, Rosalie trudged along through the snow, setting a pace Zoey found difficult to match. She hadn't spoken more than a few times, and only practicals: confirming Delta's questions on what supplies she had available, should they need to stop for the night without fighting a path to an outpost.

At least they were well supplied. Though freezing in this pocket-realm, all three of them were dressed for the weather. Inventories really were an amazing thing.

Zoey had her own boots from her shopping earlier. She'd needed to borrow a coat from Rosalie, though—their preparations for Zoey hadn't been completely thorough. Next shard, Zoey would need to finish gathering supplies.

If there was a next shard.

Which was the reason for the silent trek in the first place.

"Okay," Delta said. "I'm fed up with it."

"We didn't notice," Zoey said dryly.

"Not the snow. Though don't even get me started on that."

Started? Zoey thought. Delta had a little more than 'started' on the topic.

"Then what?"

"You two."

"Us two?"

"I bit my tongue long enough. You're both being insufferable."

Zoey's irritation spiked—'insufferable'? "Says you?" she shot back. "You haven't stopped whining once."

"Look," Delta said. "I'll do it myself, if you won't."

Zoey didn't like where this was going.

"Zoey," Delta started with faux-ceremony. "I'm not sure wayfaring with you is a smart idea. You suck ass at fighting, and you're way too inexperienced. Either we only tackle lower advancement shards, or we spend some time getting you caught up before we go on our next. I'm not going to get you killed."

"Now isn't the time for this," Rosalie said. There was no bite in her voice, which was honestly concerning.

"Sure it is," Delta said. "What the fuck else are we doing? We've got hours more of kicking our feet through snow, so let's air this out."

"I don't think there's anything to say," Zoey muttered.

Zoey couldn't see it past Delta's pulled-up snow coat, but she imagined her rolling her eyes. The way she threw her hands into the air and shook her head, too, didn't leave much for interpretation.

"What, is chilling out for two weeks the end of the world? You have a rune that makes ours evolve faster—I could even argue it's the logical choice to take it easy. Smart in the long term. Get you comfortable with the basics, then you won't croak it by accident. Does Princess really need to rush through the ranks that badly?"

"Yes," Rosalie said shortly.

A pause.

"And why?" Delta asked. "Because Daddy's got big expectations? Who the fuck are you, anyway?"

No response. Not that Zoey had expected one.

"Like she said, it's not the time for this," Zoey said.

"Kay. Well. That shard was closer than I wanted. I'm not—"

"It was aberrant," Rosalie interrupted. "It cloned us, so it was unusually strong. Because we are unusually strong, relative to who would delve a second advancement. It was a fluke." It sounded well-rehearsed, like Rosalie had been going over the point in her head.

"And what, you think there won't be more 'aberrant' shards? When it comes to her?" Delta jabbed a thumb at Zoey.

Rosalie's non-response answered for her.

"So," Delta said. "I'm not getting her killed. We stick with first-advancement shards, or we train her up. Not even to being competent, just to the point …" Delta waved her hand, not spelling it out.

To the point she's not dead weight, Zoey finished for her.

"Some defensive spells is the obvious one," Delta said. "Something passive, so if an attack slips you, she's not toast. That's the bare, bare minimum."

"She has no idea how spellcasting works," Rosalie said. "And only has an ice aspect. A passive armor skill would take weeks to learn."

"I learned the ice spike pretty fast," Zoey said. "It's that much harder?"

Rosalie shot Zoey an irritated look. "Yes. Significantly. Or I would've had you learn it."

That was fair.

It sucked not having a clue what anyone was talking about. Zoey couldn't even contribute to the discussion, because she didn't know what the alternatives were. She couldn't weigh their options, because she hadn't a clue what each was. How long would 'bare competency' take in spellcasting? In learning basic awareness, footwork, melee skills—other adventuring cornerstones?

So she went quiet again, letting Rosalie and Delta bicker.

"I don't see why 'weeks' is such a big deal," Delta said. "I know you're trying to be the next big thing, but that shit takes years, even for the best. So what's a few weeks to let Zoey figure things out?"

Zoey had an idea of Rosalie's reasoning, at least. Zoey didn't know much about Rosalie—her past, she meant; Zoey knew plenty about her in the ways that mattered—but Rosalie had given a few hints into her circumstances. Namely, that she was supposed to be returning to her family, and that her 'solo adventures' through the Fractures were something they would frown upon.

At a guess, worse than 'frown upon'. And Rosalie's only excuse for denying that directive—not heading to them immediately—would be if she returned from her bout of rogue behavior with significant progress made. Rosalie had said she shouldn't be delaying more than a few weeks at the worst, so if they burned up that whole time with Zoey learning how to cast a few defensive spells, and how to handle herself, then Rosalie would have no excuse to offer her family. Speed mattered.

"My reasoning is none of your business, is it?" Rosalie said.

And she wasn't particularly interested in explaining any of that to Delta. Zoey didn't blame her. And she didn't blame Delta's irritated reaction, either.

"Look," Delta said, turning to Zoey. Their trekking through the snow came to a stop. Her orange eyebrows were, as she'd complained about, frosted down. She wore a black cloth over her mouth to stave off the biting wind. "Don't get yourself killed trying to keep up with her. Worst case, let her fuck off on her own. If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out, but you're not ready for a third-advancement shard. Or even another second, in my opinion. Not worth the risk."

Delta wasn't saying anything Zoey hadn't gloomily puzzled over during the walk. Though, Zoey did appreciate Delta's concern. Rosalie was undergoing a war of whether Zoey's wellbeing or her life-long ambitions mattered more, and Zoey didn't fault that, not really, but Delta—Delta's priorities were clear. She was a dedicated wayfarer, but the health of her teammate mattered more.

"Like I said," Zoey sighed. "I think we're better off talking about this later. We're all in a bad mood. I think some sleep will do us well. Let's focus on getting to an outpost."

She half expected a snippish response from Rosalie, agreeing with Zoey and antagonizing Delta, but she stayed quiet. She'd been tight-lipped the whole way through, which had been why Zoey's stomach had been squirming so much. Zoey was much happier to see Rosalie in a snippish mood than a silent one—the latter was the clearly more troubled.

Delta looked like she was going to push the point—but she shook her head and turned back forward.

They continued trudging through the snow.

Zoey pulled her coat tighter.

The wind and snow settled, eventually, opening visibility up and removing the worst of the harsh weather—the biting cold that cut through even her thick jacket, and the flakes of ice collecting in her eyebrows and zipping into her eyes.

It was several hours more before they found a beacon, and subsequently started down the infrequently used road. An outpost came into view not long after, heralded by a plume of smoke curling up into the winter sky, stark against the backdrop of white.

They didn't talk much. Even Delta's complaining cut off. Zoey was grateful for that, and also not. Because neither of her teammates were the silent type, and seeing them … well, not be them, was unsettling.

How 'd it go bad so fast?

And it wasn't anyone's fault. That was the worst part, somehow. She couldn't find any blame to dole out, which had Zoey's bad mood settling in the pit of her stomach and spoiling. It'd have been easier with something to direct her annoyance at. But even when she tried to face it inward … again, she could hardly blame herself for being a novice spellcaster, a poor adventurer. Though some did latch, there; rationality rarely won out in this kind of situation.

They shook off the snow at the doorway, then wiped their boots down under a frowning innkeeper's gaze. Once done, he nodded for them to come in, and they checked out rooms for the night. It'd been a long day, and each of them were ready to sleep. It had been Zoey's suggestion to let their thoughts settle in the first place.

Rosalie accepted Zoey's offer to share a room. That was something. Rosalie was conflicted, and for good reasons, but Zoey knew she didn't want to split up—that rather, it might be a necessity, both for purpose of her advancement, and Zoey's safety.

They went about their nightly routines. Seeing Rosalie ready up for the night stung, somehow, like Zoey was being teased with the domesticity of what she might've been able to have, but which had good chances of being lost.

Things didn't take a heated turn, laying together in bed, for obvious reasons. Zoey supposed they'd had plenty of that in the shard, anyway.

It took a while to fall asleep, but she did. Zoey had exhaustion on her side.

Chapter 45

Chapter Text

Zoey woke first. She drifted to consciousness, morning sunlight trickling in through the window, pressed in by a soft body.

Her eyes opened to a sleeping Rosalie.

Zoey sighed.

They'd gone to sleep on separate halves of the bed, but had, of course, intertwined while asleep. She and Rosalie had become easily acquainted with each other's bodies, so night-time cuddling was an inevitability.

Zoey basked in the moment. Sleep-addled and her brain not fully roused, the arguments—dilemmas—of yesterday didn't breach the warm glow of Rosalie tucked into her.

It was crazy how different she looked, asleep. Even more than most people, Rosalie walked around wearing an expression carved from steel. 'Gentle and serene' was a description ill-fitting her. And while Zoey wanted to draw out a more easy-going side of Rosalie, she knew that wasn't Rosalie at her core. Zoey needed to accept that if she ever wanted … something with her.

Rosalie was married to her work, to use a comparison Zoey could understand. Maybe romance was possible, but trying to claim first priority in Rosalie's life would be selfish. She'd trained her entire life for wayfaring, and had responsibilities to her family, besides.

Zoey sighed a second time, and maybe it was louder than she meant, because the blonde woman in her arms stirred.

Pale, ice-blue eyes blinked up at her. Zoey simply studied her back, watching the crease-lines return, the sleeping serenity melt from her face.

Rosalie sighed, then snuggled in closer.

Zoey squeezed back. "Morning."

"Don't remind me."

Zoey chuckled, pressing her forehead into Rosalie's. She closed her eyes.

They mutually enjoyed each other's warmth, ignoring the problem hanging over their heads.

"One of my runes evolved," Zoey murmured.

"Mine as well. Which?"

"How would I know?"

A pause, then a soft snort. "Right. Another thing you need to learn."

A short silence at the reminder of Zoey's deficiencies.

"You can check," Zoey offered. She didn't bother asking what Rosalie's evolved rune had provided. She was, unsurprisingly, tight-lipped about her skills, even to Zoey.

'Even to Zoey'. Zoey had only known Rosalie for a handful of days. Even if they'd become fast … friends? … she was overestimating what, exactly, they had together. Why would Rosalie share her runes and skills in detail? In her culture, it was apparently a deeply intimate secret.

Like had happened a few times before, Rosalie's finger went to Zoey's forehead. There was a brief pause as she scanned Zoey's tabula anima.

She stiffened.

Then shot up in bed, throwing the covers off.

"What is it?" Zoey asked, sitting up herself. Rosalie's shocked reaction—though her face stayed calm, but in a frozen-disbelief kind of way—had worked to get Zoey's heart pumping. The tenderness of their intimacy faded away, and the cold air of the inn room seeped in.

Rosalie opened her mouth, then closed it.

"What?" Zoey repeated. "It's that weird?" She'd grown used to expecting strange things from her class and circumstances, but so should Rosalie have.

"Not weird," Rosalie said. Her brow furrowed. " … convenient."

Convenient?

"Clue me in?"

"Your Rune of Bonding evolved," Rosalie said. "The newest skill is called Growth." She rattled off the next as if she were reading from a page: "Shards provide additional experience for each day spent between entry. Applies to both rune-holder and bonded targets."

Zoey absorbed the announcement, stunned. The implications were obvious. 'Convenient', Rosalie had said. A solution, dropped into their lap, just like that?

After all that agonizing over Rosalie's need to be quickly progressing through shards, an explicit incentive to take things easy had been provided through her class?

It was as if a meddling goddess was trying to keep her and Rosalie from splitting up.

Was it even that, though? Or a coincidence? Zoey's Rune of Bonding had already indicated its purpose was to aid her and her bonded targets. Alacrity, her first-advancement skill, specifically evolved bonded target's runes faster. So this newest one fit with that. The skill had hardly come out of nowhere. Zoey could even make the argument it was a natural extension.

But the how didn't matter, did it?

A grin crept across Zoey's lips.

"That's good news, right?" Rosalie surely had to have understood the implications behind Zoey's skill—that it solved their dilemma. Or … maybe not solved. But alleviated? It might not make up the entire difference—constant, vigilant wayfaring might provide more experience than the skill's 'between-shard' bonus offered—but at least it was something. It was a reason to stay together.

"Good news," Rosalie echoed. She chewed her lip, as if hesitant to let herself be happy at the development. "It depends on how significant the bonus is."

"Knowing my class?" Rosalie had made it clear that Zoey's skills were powerful, both by nature—the ability to amplify experience gained—and by potency, like how her Lust resource made her spells much stronger than a regular caster's ought to be. "It can't be weak, that much feels safe."

Zoey could tell Rosalie agreed, but she still seemed hesitant. Zoey got the feeling after so much deliberation, having a neat solution like this had triggered some dubious part of her nature: a slowness to let herself be hopeful.

"It … likely wouldn't be," Rosalie said, almost begrudgingly. "But how strong?" She shook her head, as if contradicting herself. "Like you said, considering your other skills … your first-advancement skill already had my own rune advancing, which is absurd."

Zoey, at least, wasn't as slow to celebrate. The smile finished creeping across her face, and Rosalie frowned at her, as if annoyed Zoey wasn't having the same doubts.

"It's worth testing," Zoey said, rolling her eyes. "It means we can … put this decision off, in the worst case. Let the bonus build up, then, say, a week or two from now, go on our next. If the extra experience isn't worth it …" she shrugged. Problems for later. After mulling over a seemingly impossible problem to solve—at least for Zoey, since the dilemma was entirely with Rosalie's internal motivations—having even a half-solution elated her. Zoey practically vibrated with excitement.

She shuffled forward and grabbed Rosalie's hands. Her demeanor was finally breaking, a hesitant smile touching her lips.

"I suppose … what you're saying does make sense." She wavered, some of her growing optimism disappearing. "But it doesn't bother you?"

"Bother me?"

"Why don't you mind? That I … might have chosen to leave."

Zoey paused. "I mean, I understand your reasoning. You made it clear what your priorities are from the moment I met you. And …" Zoey hesitated on saying the next part. "And we aren't girlfriends, are we? So we don't have any obligations to each other."

"I suppose we don't."

Rosalie didn't hide the disappointment in her response. Or maybe, Zoey thought, she didn't realize there was disappointment to be hiding.

Zoey grinned, the briefly serious moment passing, and Rosalie's reaction highly encouraging. "Not until we go on our date, anyway," she teased. "We'll talk about titles then."

Rosalie's cheeks colored. She glanced away and cleared her throat. "I suppose we will."

Which was a more direct response than Zoey had expected. Her smile continued to widen. If that irritating goddess did meddle, maybe I have thanks to say. Not that it made up for the whole memory-editing stuff … but those were separate issues.

"When do you have to be back, anyway?" Zoey asked.

"Back?"

"To your parents. Family."

"Oh. I don't know. Like I told you, I'm not supposed to be delaying at all."

"But the more you progress, the more your time away can be excused?"

"Up to a point. Past four or five weeks, they'd start to worry." Her brow furrowed. "I suppose I ought to get in contact. Explain my situation in … roundabout verbiage. But I'm just not sure how I would, while maintaining discretion."

Zoey nodded along. She, obviously, couldn't provide insight there. "Okay. So, assuming this skill does give us reason to stick together. What's our future long-term?"

For once, Zoey was willing to rock the boat. The agonizing of the past sixteen hours had shown just how big this crush of hers had gotten—an admittance she'd been shying away for her own sake, in case things hadn't worked out.

Now, though, with a potential path forward, Zoey wanted concrete details. To know if a long-term was something that could happen, considering Rosalie's family. Pushing too hard probably wasn't smart, but Zoey needed to know there was a shot. Because why put herself through that crucible, otherwise? If even Rosalie herself admitted it couldn't work out?

"Long-term," Rosalie said. The words came out as if she hadn't even considered it, which wouldn't be a very Rosalie-thing-to-do. Then again, since it was a matter of the heart … ignoring it would be very Rosalie, wouldn't it? Or maybe total ignorance—not ignoring it so much as being unaware. "I suppose … we would all need to head back to my family, together."

Zoey grinned at the 'all'. She'd included Delta. The two of them might not get along, but Rosalie at least saw her as a teammate, and not someone to ditch as soon as it became convenient.

"It would be wise to do so, anyway," Rosalie continued, though not with any enthusiasm. She seemed, to say the least, doubtful of the situation. "My family's resources would go a long way to improving our advancement speed. Plus, I can't—" she hesitated.

Zoey waited patiently.

"I can't rely on not being recognized forever," Rosalie finished. "So I should return because of that, too."

Zoey nodded. That made sense. Rosalie obviously didn't think it likely, but it was a ticking time-bomb: something that could happen at any moment, should they get extraordinarily unlucky. She could be recognized. "You said we're in enemy territory. The … Striders Highguild? And your family is aligned with the Deepshunters?"

Rosalie nodded once, slowly. She was eying Zoey for a reason Zoey couldn't place. Fortunately, Rosalie formalized the odd look into words: "You aren't curious?"

"Curious?" Oh. "Who you are, you mean?"—Rosalie nodded—"Sure. But you don't want to tell. So."

"And it's that simple?"

"You aren't pestering me for my secrets, are you?" Zoey pointed out.

Because their encounter with Not-Zoey had been revealing. She'd alluded to Zoey's secrets, and how they were 'bigger than Rosalie's'. Zoey could plug her ears, close her eyes, and hum to block out the noise of the world better than most people could, but in that particular event, even Zoey had no hope that Rosalie had simply forgotten.

Maybe Zoey could hope that Rosalie simply thought the reflection was lying, sowing dissent so the fight went better, but that was far-fetched, considering how bizarre Zoey's circumstances were. And while Rosalie had been surprised by Not-Zoey's claim, she hadn't seemed that surprised—more like something had been confirmed for her.

"I suppose I haven't," Rosalie said.

A silence.

Zoey squeezed Rosalie's hands—she was still holding them from earlier. "But our future. If it works out."

"Right." Rosalie collected her thoughts. They brushed past their respective secrets. Though, Rosalie's would presumably be revealing themselves sooner or later, simply by the fact they'd be meeting her family.

Zoey should probably come clean before then, too. Obviously she could trust Rosalie, by this point. The reason Zoey hadn't, yet, was for a few reasons. One, the absurdity—the lack of reasonableness, and that Rosalie might outright not believe her. Though that might've been smoothed over with recent events. Second, though: Ephy's commandment not to share her past with anyone.

She hadn't emphasized it particularly hard … but disobeying a goddess's instructions might not be the wisest course of action. Then again, fuck her, right? It wasn't like Zoey had any great fondness for the woman who'd lobotomized her. And she needed Zoey—presumably. Zoey had been chosen her champion, and that made her not disposable.

Still, Zoey didn't know what kind of power or influence she had. Could she make Zoey's life harder if Zoey upset her? Was she even watching Zoey? Would sharing her history with Rosalie upset her in the first place? Or had the secrecy request simply been intended for the general population—that Zoey shouldn't go blabbing her circumstances to anyone who wanted to hear?

Something to mull over later.

"I suppose," Rosalie said, "assuming this skill does what we hope, then our future plans would be … get you trained up, explore perhaps one, two more shards, then head back to Deepshunters territory." Her nose wrinkled. "Deal with the whole … family situation, and explain why I've chosen you two as my teammates …"

Right. Her family would be picky about who she teams with, wouldn't they? Zoey might have to focus on making a good impression. That would be … an ordeal, she suspected. Christ. And even more for Delta. First impressions to someone like Rosalie's family? Not easy to pull off, at a guess, and Delta wasn't particularly tactful. To put it lightly.

"… then continue more of the same. Further training, further advancement." She shrugged. "Wayfaring," she said, as if summing things up. A grimace. "With some politics mixed in. Though you two shouldn't have to deal with much of that."

Zoey suspected they'd be caught along by that whirlwind whether Rosalie intended them to or not.

Still, though.

A potential future with Rosalie—that was all Zoey had needed to hear.

Chapter 46

Chapter Text

It wasn't until she and Rosalie met up with Delta that Zoey realized the two of them were holding hands. The fox-eared girl's lips curled in amusement, giving a pointed flick of her eyes at their entwined hands.

"I'm taking it you two worked something out, then."

Rosalie blinked down at her and Zoey's hands, which apparently had gone forgotten for her, too. She withdrew, flushing, but otherwise pretending nothing had happened, in classic Rosalie fashion.

"Zoey will explain," Rosalie said, sniffing. "But yes, we have. Let's get breakfast. I'm starving."

Down in the lobby, served three steaming plates of ham, eggs, and hashbrowns by the innkeeper, Zoey, Rosalie, and Delta convened at a table tucked in the corner of the tiny inn's lobby. The innkeeper had barely left before Delta leaned forward and said, "Okay, spill it. Wasn't expecting you two to be all bright and happy. What changed?"

"Zoey's rune advanced," Rosalie said. "It provided … a neat solution."

"That's fortunate," Delta said, eying Zoey. "But I can't imagine how."

"It's odd," Rosalie said. Then, apparently not wanting to hold this conversation herself, or maybe honest in how hungry she was, she picked up her fork and pointedly tuned them out.

"Odd," Delta repeated, turning to Zoey. She snorted. "Yeah, what isn't odd with you?"

Should Zoey take offense at that? Probably not. It was a fair enough accusation. "It's, uh, a skill that gives bonus experience the longer we go between shards."

"What?"

"That's … more or less it. Isn't very specific." To Zoey's knowledge, runes rarely were. The details had to be discovered through experimentation. "So it might not even be a perfect solution. But," she shrugged. She didn't need to finish the statement. Even a potential solution was better than the dilemma they'd been in before.

"Huh," Delta said. "Okay. So?"

"So?"

"We're sticking together?"

"That's the plan?"

"Are we getting more?"

"More, uh, team members?" Zoey glanced at Rosalie. "That's a group decision, I guess. Do we need more?"

Rosalie shrugged. She was shoveling down food with an abandon that was, honestly, a break in her normal composure—enough to give Zoey pause. Zoey wasn't sure what to make of it. Maybe the solution, the relief, had been even greater for Rosalie than Zoey had thought. She did seem to have an ease in her shoulders, a slouched, relaxed posture, that Zoey hadn't seen … maybe ever.

Zoey fought away a grin. Rosalie might have recognized the dilemma, and been genuinely considering leaving, but it had been something causing her deep conflict. She didn't want to leave—enough that even if it had been common sense to do so, she still might not have.

"Only if we can find someone worth our time," Rosalie grunted. She made a noise of appreciation. "This is good." She skewered another slice of ham and shoveled it into her mouth.

"Easy there, Princess," Delta said, eyebrows raised. She'd noticed Rosalie's odd mood too, the break in her typical composure. "Don't you need to breathe?"

"Or less," Rosalie said. "I could go with less teammates, too."

Unlike her usual scathing comments, this one almost seemed playful. Delta's eyebrows continued to creep up, and she grinned, turning to Zoey.

"So. She got lucky this morning, did she?"

Rosalie choked on her food.

Though God knows why, Zoey thought. How could Rosalie have reactions like that, still? Rosalie had literally had fourteen inches of her cock inside Zoey yesterday, and Delta had watched the whole thing. The implication they'd slept together shouldn't be something that had Rosalie sputtering.

And they hadn't even slept together this morning, even. It was an incorrect assumption. The past twelve hours had been perfectly chaste. Maybe the first twelve hours of theirs that had been so.

"Let me correct myself. Less teammates would definitely be better," Rosalie shot at Delta, when she'd controlled her choking. "Very much so."

Delta rolled her eyes and turned back to Zoey. "I know a few people, if we do want more. And you need a tutor. Could kill two birds with one stone—we need a primary spellcaster. DPS focused."

Zoey blinked at the casual use of 'DPS'.

Why were gaming terms so baked into this world? She didn't think 'damage per second' was an acronym that should arise naturally, even accounting for the game-like mechanisms this world operated on. Even LFG had stretched Zoey's disbelief, but it made some sort of natural sense. DPS, not as much.

"Aren't I the spellcaster?" Zoey asked, obviously not bringing it up. "It's normal to have two?"

"I'm assuming you're gonna end up support focused," Delta said. "Can't say for sure, with you still on first advancement, but it seems safe. Princess makes an adequate tank, too, though we might want a dedicated one. Two damage, off-tank, tank, support."

She glanced at Rosalie, who shrugged in agreement. "Uninspired. But adequate."

"And since we'll be hanging around town for a while …" Delta trailed off. "How long, anyway? It gives bonus experience, up to how big of a break?"

Well. Rosalie needed to be heading back to her family eventually. "A few weeks? Two, to be safe?"

Again, Rosalie shrugged. "Two weeks is fine."

Which brought up another point. More important, even, than how they'd be occupying and training Zoey in the short term. "You don't have any attachments to Treyhull, do you?" she asked Delta.

Delta blinked. "I mean. Few friends, contacts, know the area. Nothing anchoring me. Why? Trying to set up somewhere else?"

"Eventually, yes," Rosalie replied in Zoey's stead. "After the next shard, I'll be heading to family."

"And taking us with?"

The seventh shrug of the conversation. "Zoey would want you to come. And you're … acceptable, in the strictest sense of the word."

"Aw. Stop it, princess. You'll make me blush."

It seemed in face of the biggest problem being solved, Rosalie had taken an unusually hands-off approach to their planning. That the 'real problems' had been solved and the rest was, more or less, simply details. And while details were something Rosalie normally loved to manage, Zoey suspected Rosalie would only become opinionated on them down the line. Right now, she was basking in the convenience—and relief—of the seemingly unsolvable suddenly solved.

"Though," Delta said, leaning back in her chair. "Meeting the family. That'll be fun." A short pause, then, "I'm great with parents."

"Uh huh," Zoey said.

Delta flashed a grin at her. "What?" she said. "Does something about me imply 'bad with polite company'?"

"Everything?" she suggested.

"Well … yeah," Delta said. "Guilty as charged, I guess."

"It's going to be a disaster," Rosalie said. "I don't even want to think about it. Next topic."

"You haven't told us who you are, yet," Delta said.

"No, I haven't."

A pause. Delta waited.

Zoey veered them off the dangerous topic. Rosalie seemed to intend to tell them eventually, but not yet. "You know someone," Zoey prompted. "A mage. That can train me? And join the party?"

"Yeah," Delta said, frowning, but giving up on pushing Rosalie. Purple eyes turned back to her. "She's a bit of … a personality. But I like her."

"What's she like?"

Delta frowned. "I don't like making people's minds up for them. So you'll meet her and decide yourself." A smirk crept onto her lips. "Or, if you meant in a different way—well, you appreciate all shapes and sizes, don't you? She's a bit flat, but let me tell you—you'll like what you see."

"Not what I meant," Zoey said, amused. Though, inappropriately, and shallowly, she did appreciate the fact Delta seemed to think she was attractive. Considering the sort of dynamic Zoey's class filled, that would make things easier. "But you think she'll … be fine with everything?"

"I'll be the one to tell her," Delta said. "I've known her for a bit. Done some wayfaring together. It'll go down easier coming from me."

"Go easy on the details," Rosalie said. "Zoey's class needs to stay a secret."

Delta rolled her eyes. "I'm not a blabber-mouth like your girlfriend, so don't worry."

Rosalie snorted.

Delta—and Zoey—waited.

Rosalie stiffened. "She's not my girlfriend."

"She isn't?" Delta asked.

Rosalie gave her a disdainful look, and spared some of it for Zoey, too.

Like usual, it was up to Zoey to drag things back. "What class is she?"

"Maddy? Illusionist. Not the heaviest DPS, but seems like you're capable of some yourself, so I think it balances out."

"Illusionist. Huh." Inappropriately, Zoey's mind wandered to what kinds of things an illusionist could do in the … less appropriate sense of fighting. Then—fuck it, right? Sex was clearly a part of their profession, so long as Zoey accompanied her team into shards. So she voiced it out loud. "Something like that might be useful in boss fights. Dunno how, but versatility never hurts."

"That's true," Delta said. She leaned forward conspiratorially. "You're not the only one who's thought it. I have it on good authority she doesn't wear clothes—just wears an illusion around."

"Are you serious?"

Delta shrugged. "Maybe I just made it up. What do you think?"

Zoey narrowed her eyes and tried to read Delta … but she couldn't.

"But yeah," Delta said, laughing. "I bet she could do all kinds of freaky things. Illusions are useful. She's in high demand, so she might be hard to snag."

"Have you two … ?"

"Fucked?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Nah. We're just friends." A pause. "Not that I wouldn't."

"Is there anyone you wouldn't?" Rosalie muttered.

"This is where I say you," Delta shot back. Then, a sideways grin. "But some lies are too blatant, even for me."

Delta's response had Rosalie's face turning red with comical speed. As usual, she pointedly didn't reply, focusing instead on her plate of food.

Which reminded Zoey of yesterday's escapades. Zoey wondered how thoroughly the body-swaps had affected Rosalie. Rosalie definitely had appreciated using Delta's body. In a way, she'd lost her virginity—cock-virginity, at least, for an awkward way to put it—to the fox-girl as much as she had to Zoey. It'd been Zoey piloting Delta's body, but it had to be hard for Rosalie to ignore the fact it had been Delta's body she'd been thrusting into.

And she was blushing a little too brightly at Delta's teasing for Zoey not to think Rosalie might return the sentiment—that Delta wasn't a 'hard no', either. Their personalities might not mesh, but attraction? It was there. Maybe it had always been, but it'd become more pronounced since the events of the last shard.

Zoey would have to keep working that angle. It'd already been established that polyamory was more common in this world than Zoey's, and Zoey would be ecstatic if these two girls could work out their issues—grow closer to each other. In … a few senses of the word. Because a threesome with Rosalie and Delta? Where everyone was enjoying each other, rather than just Zoey and one of them at a time?

Er … probably best Zoey didn't think about it. She might have received those 'Panties of Holding', but she didn't have them equipped. Hardening would be as insanely obvious as always.

"Back to Maddy," Zoey said, maybe a bit too loudly to not be suspicious. "If she's an illusionist, she'll still be able to train me?"

"Mages are mages," Delta said. "Sure. Not perfectly, but yeah. The bigger question is, how are you going to keep topped off?"

It took a second for Zoey to understand. Right … because I need to collect lust to keep casting spells. Presumably, during a training session, she'd be pelting off spells faster than normal. So even more recharges would be necessary.

"Better put the moves on her," Delta smirked, "because I'm pretty sure me and blondie are gonna have our own stuff going on."

Rosalie nodded in agreement.

"And what will you be doing?" Zoey asked, curious.

"Training. Research," Rosalie said. "Vetting for a fifth member, our tank—if Delta doesn't have one."

"None good enough for your standards," Delta admitted. "Tanks are hard to find."

"And other things," Rosalie continued. "I might have an excuse to not rush shards as fast as possible, but that doesn't mean I can't be advancing through alternate methods."

Zoey's own plans would include alchemy, spell casting, and general combat training, so she'd have a packed schedule too. Plus, hopefully, that date with Rosalie—she assumed that was still on the table. Which, speaking of, she needed to work something out.

And hopefully some outings with Delta. She wanted to get to know her teammates better. In a more casual scenario, not this hectic life-and-death frenzy that had been the standard. Something calm. Easy-going. She didn't think this fantasy world had movies, but something of the sorts. A play? That'd been the standard in old-times, hadn't it?

Or a picnic? A picnic sounded nice. Anything with Rosalie or Delta sounded nice. They were just … enjoyable to be around.

That crush might be expanding to two girls, from one.

"And you?" Zoey asked Delta.

"Get wicked drunk?" she said, shrugging. "You're free to join me. Besides that, the usual. Some of what blondie said. I'm not wholly a slacker."

Zoey laughed.

Getting wickedly drunk … honestly, didn't sound like the worst thing in the world. Maybe she'd spare a night to take the offer. Rosalie wouldn't approve of the lack of studiousness … but on the flip side of that coin, Zoey also planned to be chipping away at that aspect of Rosalie. She needed to learn to cut loose.

It might take some effort, but either way, she was excited to try.

Chapter 47

Chapter Text

It was pretty inconvenient being spat out in a random pocket-realm after finishing a shard. As far as 'enjoyable game mechanics', Zoey would give that one a zero out of ten.

The good news was, the exit-realm was usually in the vicinity of the entrance-realm, for a loose sense of 'vicinity'. As in, it wasn't likely they'd be spat out halfway across the world—though apparently possible—but rather a short distance, perhaps a half-day travel from where they'd started, on average.

Fitting to that norm, the trip back to Treyhull took about seven hours. They set off early, just after eating breakfast, accompanied by a golem-woman who wasn't a tenth as talkative as Zoey and Rosalie's first guide.

Which was fine. They made conversations themselves, the tall, bulky woman setting a quick pace, with the three of them trailing behind at enough of a distance to have privacy in what they were saying. Zoey appreciated the lack of mindless chatter, honestly.

The trip was less exhausting than the first. Zoey still needed to lean on stamina potions to some extent, but not half as much. Her feet got sore slower, as did her muscles. Her progression through advancements—to second, now, technically—had come with benefits. Though her class wasn't focused on physical durability or speed, she'd grown stronger passively. To a lesser degree than a class like Rosalie's or Delta's would've provided, but noticeable nonetheless.

Plus, a mundane sort of growth. She'd been on her feet constantly since arriving in this world, and partaking in all sorts of … physical activities. She'd grown passively more durable, and acquired better mental endurance, too—she could push her aching muscles to the back of her mind.

In the meantime—during the walk—Rosalie and Delta haggled how the loot split would work. While final decisions couldn't be made until they'd had the items appraised—both for price, and effects—they could still work out plenty of the details in advance.

Wasn't that hard, even, since Rosalie kept her stance from earlier: she didn't care about low-level loot, beyond selling it for supplies. By the sounds of it, she had enough coin on her person that wasn't particularly concerning, either.

And, knowing Rosalie's social status—even if not specifically—money wouldn't be a problem for her once she returned to her family. So the whole thing, Rosalie didn't care much for.

She still bickered and haggled, but Zoey got the sense she did it to annoy Delta, and out of an ingrained need to 'stay even'—to get what she felt she was deserved.

Zoey's and Delta's splitting of loot was the trickier one. Initially, Delta had claimed she cared about practical loot, and that Zoey could have all the lewd items. Unfortunately, she seemed to be reversing that opinion.

Which was good news and bad news. Good news because Delta taking a higher interest in sex items was … well, Zoey wasn't going to complain. Bad news, because Zoey wanted all of the lewd items; pretty much all of them seemed fun in some way or another. It was implied she and Delta would share them as available, but 'ownership' status needed to be doled out.

Zoey hoped Delta stuck with the team for … well, ever? Until the world was saved, whatever that meant? … but Delta was more practical than to take her continued presence in the party for granted. So, well-defined bounds of who owned what, should the party split. It looked like they'd be sticking together for the short term—maybe even medium and long term—but anything could happen.

Zoey got all the alchemy reagents. She also got the panties of holding. Delta had wanted them too, because they worked for a pussy as much as a cock, but Zoey actually needed them; they were convenient for when Zoey had to keep her secret … well, a secret.

And sure, she'd made the previous determination to keep her secret 'on display' on the off-chance someone saw and took interest, but for situations where Zoey legitimately did want to keep her equipment down-low on the down-low … say, for example, when Zoey finally met with Rosalie's family … the panties became less convenient and more a necessity.

So Delta parted with them reluctantly. She did, however, extract a promise that Delta got to 'have Zoey's cock' when they'd been identified and declared safe by Fe. She was … surprisingly tight-lipped on what, exactly, she planned to do with it. Knowing Delta, Zoey was about as scared as she was excited. Zoey suspected 'taking it around town' to use as a living strap-on might be the smallest of plans Delta had.

Rosalie hadn't been pleased about that—about not getting to be the 'Keeper of the Cock'—but Delta had sneered that Rosalie 'would get her turn, too, blondie, so chill out'. Rosalie seemed satisfied by that, which, uh, also concerned Zoey, honestly. Not as much as Delta … but still concerned her.

Not that Zoey was complaining, per se. Just, a bit conflicted about what 'free use' of Zoey's cock meant, without her being present. Or a two mile radius, even.

Much as Zoey hadn't wanted to, she'd needed to share. Delta got some of the loot. Namely, the Ink of Empowering Degradation, and the Mirror of Deep Echoes. The last, of course, being the crown-jewel. Delta had been willing to trade almost everything else for it.

Her reasoning had been pretty simple. It'd been something she'd already explained, the moment she'd seen the item.

It was a way for Delta to have a cock.

Zoey was a bit amused at how much Delta had enjoyed being in Zoey's body. Maybe even more than Zoey, who had been a bit slow to warm up to the idea, Delta liked having something extra between her legs. The Mirror, which let her take someone's body, meant she'd have a way to do that, through Zoey.

Or turn into a guy, Zoey guessed. Would Delta do that? Zoey was pretty sure she'd rather just take Zoey's body. She had … a lot more down there than most did, anyway. And both parts, not just one—which she suspected Delta would prefer. Zoey's disorientation in having both parts was lessening, but hadn't fully gone away.

After the discussions on loot—because that could only last so long, considering a seven hour trek through multiple pocket-dimensions—their talks turned more practical. They hammered out the details behind their schedules, how they would handle their return, and the coming 'break'.

Exact details depended on whether Delta had an easy contact through her friend—Madeline—to train Zoey. Rosalie had questioned Delta whether Maddy was a 'sufficient tutor', and Delta had assured Rosalie she was skilled, but more importantly, 'a sweet girl, and trustworthy'. Rosalie had seemed briefly hesitant, but while she didn't get along with Delta, she respected her professional opinion—hence why she'd teamed with Delta in the first place.

Speaking of Rosalie and Delta's 'getting along', the friction seemed to be easing up. Zoey doubted they'd ever be all smiles and bright-and-gooey with each other, but they were falling into a type of friendly bickering, rather than hostile. Like siblings, almost, though that was definitely not a good way to define the dynamic, now that Zoey put more than a second of thought into it. Definitely not sisters.

Because, Zoey noted, Rosalie's eyes were catching on Delta's hips, ass, and bust with far greater frequency than before. Rosalie's fucking of the fox-eared girl's body, through Zoey, had done a great job at warming her up to Delta—or at least her body. Which Zoey counted as a big win for team dynamics. And more selfishly, a big win for herself. Zoey couldn't wait for the first time they all decided to be together, and not in a 'watch each other while the other two go at it' way.

During the lulls—the long breaks in which they simply trudged forward, not speaking—Zoey did some mental planning for her date with Rosalie.

It was a big event. A world-ending event. Something that had Zoey's stomach clenching whenever she thought about it. How in the world was Zoey supposed to come up with something that could impress Rosalie? Zoey wasn't an anxious person by nature, but the idea of taking Rosalie out on a date had her sweating.

Rosalie was … well, possibly this world's version of royalty. Or, probably not that intense. Delta'd simply said she suspected high-ranking guild officers, so, shit, Zoey didn't know—a senator's daughter, to use an Earth equivalent she could understand?

Zoey was just some girl.

Or, she guessed not really, anymore. She was the chosen paladin of the goddess of sex. Not 'some girl'. But she still felt that way.

Rosalie was just—so amazing. It would be impossible to come up with a date that could show what Zoey felt.

Slowly, Zoey came to the conclusion trying too hard was exactly how things would go wrong. And trying too hard, trying to take Rosalie somewhere fancy, classy, and live up to her status—Zoey shouldn't. Couldn't, even. Rosalie had grown up with old money, status, and under excruciating standards.

What Zoey should give to her was a normal date.

A picnic at the park. Feed the ducks, bask in the sun and the fresh air—something low-key, relaxing, without expectations. Maybe Zoey would bring along a poetry book and read sappy stanzas to her, see how long Rosalie could keep a straight face, thinking Zoey was serious. Hell, knowing Rosalie … it might work. Either way, the blush it would draw out would be amazing.

But something organic. Something neither of them had to pretend for. She thought Rosalie would appreciate that. And they had something, didn't they? Just being around each other, naturally? Forcing things would be how it went wrong.

Rosalie had said 'a girlfriend of hers would need to try her hardest', and Zoey would. But not in a way that was contrived—that wasn't Zoey. Zoey would put the work in, have a nice day planned, but it'd be something Rosalie'd never experienced: something calming, low-key, where she could breathe.

And that decided, Zoey was suddenly not that stressed.

Chapter 48

Chapter Text

The long trip up Treyhull's titanic stairway, carved into the center of one of the jungle-realm's enormous trees, sucked as much as the first time, but at least it heralded their return, and a relaxing—hopefully—two week break.

Apparently, there were elevators, or magical equivalents, but however rich Zoey suspected Rosalie to be, she was surprisingly miserly; they took the stairs rather than the easier, more expensive, way up.

They said their good-byes to the guide at the Last of the Forest's guildhall. Rosalie paid the woman's fee, then some extra as a standard-expectation tip, and she parted without fanfare. Zoey briefly wondered whether she'd be resting in the city for the night before heading back out, or whether the golem woman would returning to her snowy outpost without break. She did seem unruffled despite their trip, and her stoic nature gave Zoey the impression she'd chosen her career because she liked the long hours of silent trudging.

From there, they split up, to Zoey's slight disappointment. Rosalie headed off with their mundane equipment, intending to drop it off with Anja. Zoey and Delta, on the other hand, were tasked to handle the other half: the identification of lewd items through their other contact, Fe.

The store was unusually empty. There were neither patrons, nor Fe herself standing behind the counter. Slow day, Zoey guessed, since it was definitely open. She and Delta peered down the various aisles, and around the store, seeking the owner out.

They found Fe bent over—in a highly compromising position—in the corner of the shop, apparently trying to get to a hard-to-reach spot at the back of a shelf. Cleaning? She seemed to be wiping it down, but it was hard to tell for sure. Items were piled on the ground, to be re-stocked shortly. At a guess, Fe had taken advantage of the slow day to get some freshening up done.

Compromising. Zoey might've understated it. Fe was wearing a short skirt today, and—don't ask her how—it seemed to have flipped up and bunched at the top of her lower back as she vigorously cleaned away the deep recesses of the shelf. Her enthusiastic motions … made the sight even more difficult to ignore. Her ass laid on plain display, pale blue panties squeezing and shaping her cheeks in an agonizingly amazing way, and her plush curves bounced with the rough back-and-forth scrubbing movements.

Delta, of course, was delighted—she shot Zoey a grin with raised eyebrows. She opened her mouth to say something—and Zoey could imagine a dozen taunts, or lewd comments she might give—but she paused, then thought better of it. Delta might have some issues with keeping her mouth under control, but she wouldn't outright harass a stranger. However … amazing … the sight they'd stumbled on, Fe wasn't part of their group, and unasked-for comments about her body wasn't something socially permissible, even to Delta's filter-lacking tendencies.

Zoey took one relief in the situation, at least. After so much degeneracy and lewdness, a bent-over girl with her panties showing wasn't quite such an appealing site that Zoey couldn't keep herself settled. With the Panties of Holding still not identified and tested—the reason they were here—she still had to keep her reactions under control, unless she wanted a fourteen-inch pillar in her pants becoming even more noticeable than it was normally. And seeing how Fe was a professional contact of theirs, Zoey needed to keep things friendly.

Though, still a close thing. Not an easy task to keep calm. Fe really did … have a lot going on. And she was seriously working away at the tough stain she'd run into.

Zoey cleared her throat. "Uh, Fe?"

The plush sheep-girl startled, then banged her head against the upper shelf—she'd been deep between them, hence her compromised, bent-over position—in surprise.

"Ow!"

"Are you—!"

Fe staggered out from between the shelves, rubbing her head. Her skirt corrected itself, partially, flipping back down. Fe finished settling it, tugging and smoothing it out, though passively, an idle correction, as if she hadn't realized what had happened, or that she'd fixed it.

That was for the best, Zoey guessed. Though how she'd 'accidentally' had her entire ass on display was … a bit suspicious, if Zoey were honest. Not really something that 'just happened', she felt like. Even if Fe seemed more ditzy than most. But what was Zoey implying? That Fe'd been hoping for someone to walk in on her like that? Her banged head—still being rubbed in pain—contradicted that.

"Zoey," Fe said, blinking. "You're back." The bright smile that appeared on her face didn't seem like a customer-service reaction. It had Zoey's own smile appearing. "And company." Fe turned to Delta.

Delta quirked an eyebrow at Zoey, a quick aside, before addressing Fe. It could've meant anything, but by the teasing smile threatening to break out on her lips, Zoey suspected it was something not entirely appropriate. Something along the lines of, 'wow, you didn't tell me your identifier was hot', or, 'that's a big smile you got there, Zoey. Should I be worried for blondie?'

"Hey," Delta said. "Delta, Zoey's teammate. It's nice to meet you."

"Fe. And you as well." Fe's attention turned back to Zoey; she seemed eager to get to the meat of the conversation. "Successful adventure? That means you two have artifacts for me?"

Her interest, Zoey noted by the gleam in her eye, definitely wasn't all business. While she'd be getting paid to identify their items, Fe was clearly interested for … more personal reasons.

Zoey, briefly, and as she had a few times before, wondered what exactly 'testing' entailed. Fe had seemed genuinely shocked at Zoey's half-joke that it would require 'cleaning' afterward … but how else were items like theirs identified?

"Several more," Zoey confirmed.

There'd actually been a few pieces of equipment, this time, that had straddled the line between 'mundane' and 'not', which the three of them had puzzled over who—Fe or Anja—would be better suited to inspecting. Though some armor was plainly lewd—Rosalie's vine armor to name the most obvious, which literally wiggled around in her during the middle of a fight—they'd receive a smattering of less inappropriate armor, too. Thigh highs, bras—metal and not—with their centers missing, and other lingerie-like items.

While not as bad as literal butt plugs, erotic piercings, and such, and so Anja probably wouldn't have too flustered of a reaction, they'd still decided to drag anything questionable to Fe. Fe was slightly more pricey—as a specialist in the strange—but they weren't struggling with funds, so they'd agreed to take it to the person better suited for it.

Fe put up her 'busy; please wait' sign on her counter, then brought Zoey and Delta along to the back room, where, like once before, Zoey and Delta emptied their inventories of the appropriate items and laid them out in two separate piles, belonging to their respective members.

Fe's eyebrows crept up as she inspected each. She didn't touch anything, only leaned forward and turned her head side to side as she appraised the items. She didn't blush, which Zoey gave her credit for, considering how bizarre the items were. Like usual, a consummate professional.

"And I don't know if it's too much trouble," Zoey said, "but is there any chance we can get these in specific handled? Early?" She held up the linking plate and the panties. "They're, um, convenient. How long would one item take, if we pay extra? Could you have it done in the next few hours?"

Fe scanned the two objects, presumably inspecting them, then her eyes flicked to Zoey's crotch before hastily correcting back up. "Oh," Fe said. "Convenient. Um. Because. Yeah." She cleared her throat. "I don't normally do rush orders like that. Next-day is the best I do, usually."

"But you'll make an exception?" Delta interjected, leaning forward with a hint of a smirk on her lips. "Because you sympathize? With Zoey's big inconvenience?" There was a little too much emphasis on the word 'big'—it drew another flick of Fe's eyes to Zoey's crotch, and the first hints of a blush.

Zoey wasn't sure what Delta was doing. Teasing Fe, obviously. But why? Delta had seemed previously determined to keep things professional—if there was a chance to tease Fe, it would've been catching her bent-over by the shelves.

"And," Delta said casually, "she can show you how it works, if it helps speed things up. Helps you understand the item."

The pink spread, and a third flick of Fe's eyes.

Zoey said, confused, "I can?"

"I suppose I do sympathize with her predicament," Fe said. "And for a repeat customer, it would be a show of good faith to make an exception. And you're right, demonstrating would … would help me understand the item's use more clearly. Expedite the process."

Oh.

Zoey understood what was happening. Apparently, Delta had a better read on Fe than Zoey did. Up to this point, Zoey had thought Fe's slight awkwardness simply a result of their circumstances—because they were strange. But Delta's prompting—and Fe's response—had made things clear.

"Perfect," Delta said, the grin becoming more obvious. "We're all professionals here. Go ahead and show it off, Zoey. She needs to understand what she's in for."

But, uh.

Show it off? Just like that? So abrupt?

Zoey was supposed to pull down down her pants and demonstrate the item's use, while Fe was staring at her with big eyes, and a quickly growing redness in her face? Delta had produced the most flimsy possible excuse to set this up. And it had worked?

Then again, a chance to show off for Fe? Her heart rate picked up, and by no conscious decision—obviously—her cock started to swell inside her pants. Delta grinned at her, standing next to Fe. She was delighting in the situation she'd instigated. Happier about it than Zoey, even.

"Right," Zoey said. "Demonstrate."

Well. Might as well get to it. She fumbled with her belt, then unlooped it, setting it on the long desk with the unidentified artifacts. Her boots came next, kicking them off, and her pants and boxers after that, both in one smooth motion.

And so she was naked from her waist below, besides her socks. Somehow, wearing a shirt and socks made her feel ten times more exposed than if she'd been stripped naked.

Her cock stood at full attention, and Fe's eyes were glued to it. The flush now suffused her entire face, and she seem enraptured. Delta also gave it an appreciate look, but mostly she seemed to be enjoying Fe's reaction.

Zoey wasn't quite sure whether this was more awkward or hot—or maybe, it was the first making the second so much more intense. Their explanations for this had been contrived, and Fe accepted them so quickly; she'd wanted to see Zoey expose herself.

Which … still didn't make being the only one half-naked in this room any less awkward, but Zoey's perverted side was enjoying things. Exposing herself to someone like Fe, who was entranced by the member sticking out, fourteen inches of throbbing excitement.

Not to mention the thick black writing on her pelvis. 'DELTA AND ROSIE'S FAVORITE TOY'. It was an impossible thing to miss, and Fe definitely hadn't.

Zoey wasn't sure how to address that, so instead she ignored it, grabbing the panties off the table, then stepping into each of the leg-holes and tugging the pink fabric up. She guided her cock into the black portal, and, like the item's description promised, fourteen inches of cock sprouted from the white linking plate, right in front of Fe.

Chapter 49

Chapter Text

Despite knowing through the item description what would happen, the arrival of Zoey's cock—transported through space—onto the white plate next to Fe had her eyes widening to a comical size. She stared, stunned, at the thing jutting in front of her.

Zoey's skin tingled with the idea she was exposing herself to the curvy sheep-girl. Honestly, she was surprised by how turned on she was. After being in so many more perverted situations in the past several days, something as simple as whipping her equipment out shouldn't have had her heart hammering. But it did.

Maybe it was that it didn't relate to any 'shard shenanigans'. There were no excuses to hide behind, not really. Delta's segue of 'item testing' was blatantly a cover, something Delta had offered teasingly to Fe to give a feeble reasoning for Fe to not seem overly eager. By the expression on Fe's face, she knew it as well as the two of them.

Delta grinned and cozied up to Fe, slipping an arm around her waist. The action produced a squeak, but only from surprise. Fe didn't protest; she let Delta invade her personal space.

"Looks bigger, somehow, when it's separated like that," Delta said. "Doesn't it?"

"It, um, certainly does." Fe swallowed. "I can see what you mean by this artifact being a convenient find. It would help … hide things." She shot a wide-eyed look at Zoey, and said, half-apologetically, "honestly, I thought you were doing something to make it more obvious, but you weren't, were you? It's just that big. How does it even fit in your pants?"

Fe's eyes turned back to Zoey's cock. Her brow scrunched down, her flustered demeanor draining to something more serious. "But such a strange effect. And powerful. Spatial dislocation, from a second advancement shard? Restricted to … genitalia … but nonetheless, unusual. Perplexing."

She spoke with a nearly clinical tone, like Fe had fallen back into professionalism to save herself from embarrassment. She did seem overwhelmed. As much by Zoey's partial nudity—and fourteen inch cock sticking into the air—as, it seemed, by Delta, and her closeness, the way she'd wrapped an arm around her waist and cozied up to her. Fe definitely didn't seem unhappy about Delta's quick advances. Just … overwhelmed.

"Go ahead," Delta said, teasing Fe. "Work your magic. Experiment with it."

Fe squeaked again, for no discernible reason. If Zoey had to guess, Delta's hand had snuck down and done something Zoey hadn't seen.

Fe shot a bashful look at Zoey, then stepped forward and peered down at the base of the linking plate.

She laughed once, as if at herself. "I realize we're playing under a farce here," she said. "But this really is so fascinating. Do you mind if I do test some things? It's such a curious item."

"Now, Fe," Delta scolded. "You shouldn't go around calling someone's cock a 'curious item'. People are sensitive about these things."

Zoey gave Delta an amused look, then said to Fe, "Uh, yeah. Sure." She was surprised Fe had come out and addressed the so-called 'farce' outright. Leave it to a scientist—because that was what Fe was, more or less—to let the erotic scenario she was flustered by to be sidelined by her inquisitive nature.

"The obvious first question," Fe said, "is what would happen if we looped it back. As in, I took the … the …"

"Her cock," Delta suggested.

The flush returned. "If I took your cock," Fe said, tripping over the word, "and fed it back into the panties' original portal. The opening seemed larger, there, so it would fit. But what would happen? There wouldn't be space on the exit for a second transportation."

Zoey considered it. Her brain started to hurt. "Nothing that risks cock-vaporization, please."

"Cock vaporization?" Delta asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I mean. Yeah. Who knows what would happen?"

"My intuition says it would refuse access," Fe said. "Act as a physical wall, perhaps, or a repulsive field that grows in strength. But I suppose it's not worth field-testing. I can run analyses to find answers without risking … risking …"

"Her cock," Delta suggested.

Fe didn't blush, this time, only side-eyed Delta, lips turning up in. "Her cock," she emphasized, not stuttering like the previous time, "suffering any undue damage." She refocused on Zoey's member. "But more than that, I wonder—is the transport two-way?"

Zoey blinked. "There's no portal on the linking plate, so I'd figure not."

Fe nodded. "I suspect so, but still try?"

Some awkward repositioning, and Zoey bumping her cock into smooth plate glass to little success, which had her feeling more than a bit silly, and they confirmed a 'no'.

"Then my next question is, while active, can attached items transport back?" Fe cleared her throat. "Do you, um, mind?" She gestured at Zoey's cock.

Zoey didn't know exactly what she was asking, but she trusted Fe to not do anything crazy. "Go ahead."

Tentatively—and with some of the blush that had settled returning—Fe reached out and wrapped cold, tentative fingers around Zoey's cock. "Now, um, withdraw?"

"Pull out?"

"I want to see if my hand comes through. Perhaps skin-to-skin contact would allow it?"

"This is," Delta said, "a lot less sexy than I was hoping."

"Oh, we'll get to that. I'm just curious about—" Fe froze. Lost in her analytical mindset, the first part of what she'd said had slipped out without thought. She tripped over her words as she continued, pretending she hadn't said anything. Zoey's heart-rate picked up, again, at the implication 'more' would be coming. Doubly compromising, seeing how Fe's hand was on her cock. Delta was right; for their circumstances, things hadn't taken as lewd of a turn as Zoey would have expected. "—about how it functions. Like I said, it's a fascinating piece of equipment."

"A fascinating piece of equipment? It's definitely that," Delta said. "Oh, and the portal panties are pretty cool, too."

Zoey shook her head at Delta, then, doing as told by Fe, she leaned back while pulling her panties down, awkwardly trying to get her cock out of the portal. It was a long, unwieldy thing to finagle out.

She only withdrew a few inches before her efforts were blocked.

"Mm," Fe said. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." Her hand had jammed at the linking plate. "Though …" She let go of Zoey's cock, then spat in her palm. She rubbed the slippery liquid into Zoey's sensitive member, and Zoey gasped, softly, in surprise as much as at the sensation. "Try now?"

Zoey pulled out. Sure enough, Fe's spit had come along for the trip. A small patch of her cock glistened in the light.

"So bodily fluids work," Fe said, brow furrowing. "Arbitrary. So arbitrary. But I suppose artifacts are, as a whole. It's why they're so fascinating." Her head tilted. "I wonder, is there a range distance? And would ink work—is any unobtrusive substance permitted? Does the effect function between realms? Shards? It could be used as an incredible long-distance communication tool, if so. If … an absurd one."

"Way less sexier than I thought this'd be," Delta repeated. "But honestly, kinda living for it. Nerd out. It is pretty cool." She grinned at Fe. "Plus … and this is just my experience … but the nerdy girls are always the freakiest. So this is promising."

Fe blushed, obviously not standing a chance under Delta's proximity, and her teasing smirk.

Zoey was honestly a bit jealous at Delta's confidence, how quickly she'd spotted that Fe would be okay with this, then how easily she'd acted on it.

While Delta had obviously intended to drag things back to the lewder starting point she'd set up, Zoey could wait a few more minutes. Though she definitely appreciated Delta's … what, wing-manning? She was trying awfully hard to get Zoey's cock wet, for her … Zoey was also as intrigued by this item as Fe. She'd gotten accustomed to magic in a small way after the time she'd spent in this world, but the novelty was hardly gone entirely.

"The question we really want answered," Zoey said, "is whether I can put the linking plate in my inventory while active."

"Oh," Fe said. "Huh. I wonder. You haven't tested it?"

Zoey raised her eyebrows.

"Safely," Fe amended. "Not with your entire …"

"Cock," Delta supplied for the third time.

"Not with your entire cock," Fe said, shooting an exasperated look at the fox-girl whose arm was still around her waist. Delta gave her a sideways grin, which had even Zoey's heart skipping a beat, and she wasn't the one it'd been leveled at.

"I don't think she wants to lose any part of it," Delta said, for Zoey. "I realize she's got plenty to spare, but still."

Fe rolled her eyes. "I mean, less dangerous than that, even. Worst case could still be uncomfortable, and hurt, but you two are adventurers, aren't you? Bunch up a bit of your foreskin and stick the tiniest bit through—then deposit the linking plate. Worst case, you take a health potion to clean up some minor tissue damage. Hardly anything at all—bit of blood, sure, but." She shrugged.

But as adventurers, Zoey finished, she and Delta had obviously seen worse.

And Fe was right: it was a safe worst-case. Obviously the idea of having a tiny portion of her foreskin … severed … wasn't the most thrilling of ideas, but with magical items like health potions, it was hardly something Zoey couldn't get over. It would heal right back. And she might not be a real adventurer, but she'd seen more gore even yesterday, fighting through the shard, and against Not-Zoey.

"Huh," Delta said. "Yeah, that makes sense. I guess we should've thought of that."

"Trying to be clever about testing artifacts is usually a poor idea," Fe said, "and bringing it to a specialist is a good standard to operate by. It's easy to get yourself hurt, or have unforeseen complications cropping up. But in this case, I don't think so. It's a simple, straightforward test."

"Should I do it?"

"I could run standard analysis," Fe said. "I will be, anyway, I presume, since you're hiring me. So there's no need. But it would've been an effective field test, should you have needed to know."

"Here's a scientific question," Delta announced loudly. "There's a fourteen inch cock—that belongs to a girl—on your table, and you don't have your mouth around it. What's up with that?"

Fe paused. Her eyes turned to Delta, then Zoey, and she reddened until she was the color of a tomato.

"You know," Fe said. "That is a rather salient question, isn't it?"

Chapter 50

Chapter Text

This took way longer than it should have, Delta thought.

Delta had had her suspicions on Fe's attraction to Zoey the second the two of them hard arrived to her store, and Fe's face had lit up. Before that, even. The debacle with her flipped-up skirt was highly suspicious. Fe couldn't have known the two of them were going to be the next in her shop, sure, but she'd been in a little too compromising of a situation for Delta to think it had happened naturally.

A certain wide-hipped artificer, Delta suspected, had a thing for exhibitionism.

Which, Delta thought … good choice.

The nail in the coffin, though, had been when Zoey had brought up the 'convenience' of the item they'd found. How the ability to store Zoey's 'big problem' away was something she wanted sooner rather than later. Fe had taken too much interest, there, and her eyes had wandered down to Zoey's crotch, and stayed, for a little too long.

So, how had it taken ten minutes of item-testing musings to get here? Especially when things had started so auspiciously. Delta had thought they were going to get to the good stuff right away.

Because Zoey had been determined to cockblock herself. She'd had her equipment laid out in front of Fe, and she'd chosen to … chat about item theoreticals? For several minutes?

What was wrong with her?

At least Delta had gotten them back on track.

Fe wrapped a hand around Zoey's cock, and she stared down hesitantly at the veiny, impressive member. Delta's heart skipped a beat, sympathetically. Honestly, she wasn't sure why she was so into this. Why did the idea of getting Zoey's dick wet turn her on? She'd love to take credit for 'being a good friend', but that was only half the truth. Delta liked helping Zoey out, but Fe's hand around Zoey's cock did about as much for her as it did Zoey, if she had to guess.

"C'mon," Delta murmured into Fe's ear. "Don't be shy. Get down there." She was still pressed into the shorter girl, and had been since all this had started. Delta was a bit offended her proximity had gone ignored, Fe's curiosity over the item taking higher priority. Having her body pressed into Fe's should've gotten her all heated up. And it had … just not enough, apparently, to overrule her curiosity.

And no, Delta wasn't pouting about it.

"It really … is so big," Fe mumbled back, amazed. Now that her analytical brain had shut off, replaced by her much more primitive, animal one, Delta's briefly subdued arousal stirred back up.

Zoey's too. A bead of precum had sprung up at the tip of her gigantic cock, and it twitched in excitement at the imminent activities.

Delta ran her pointer finger across it, collecting the liquid. "Here," Delta said. "Try."

Fe didn't hesitant. She opened her mouth. Delta rubbed the thick droplet of pre-cum around on her tongue, and Fe sucked, her powerful, slippery appendage rubbing circles around her finger. Delta's heart skipped a beat at the eagerness.

It really is always the nerdy ones, Delta thought.

"That's a good girl," Delta said, rubbing her finger around Fe's mouth, letting it be sucked on. "You like how it tastes?"

Fe nodded mutely, face burning.

"You can have more, you'll just have to work for it. Now get down there."

Fe didn't need further prompting. Fe leaned forward, hand still wrapped around Zoey's base, and she pressed her lips to Zoey's cockhead, giving it a gentle kiss.

Delta was torn between which of the two girls' reactions to watch—Zoey's, or Fe's. She settled on Zoey. Zoey's eyes widened as Fe's lips split open, taking Zoey into her mouth. She breathed in, back arching in pleasure. She was dressed from the waist up, and was wearing panties, so not much was showing. Honestly, that did even more for Delta, though. Seeing her groan in pleasure while mostly clothed, and, seemingly, though obviously not actually, having nothing done to her.

"There you go," Delta murmured, wrapping a hand into Fe's fluffy white hair, between two curled horns. She pressed down, urging Fe deeper onto Zoey's cock. "A good businesswoman would go all the way, wouldn't she? All about keeping customers satisfied, right?"

With a gag, Delta's insistence—both verbal and physical—succeeded: Zoey's cock slid into Fe's throat. Delta watched her throat distend out with the size of the object invading it. As amazing as Zoey's size was for pleasure, the sights it provided was just as fun. The way Delta could see Zoey's cock go deeper, inch by inch, forcing Fe's throat out to accommodate.

Delta rubbed her other hand against Fe's throat, massaging Zoey's cock through Fe's skin. Zoey groaned in the background, and it wasn't only Zoey the feeling was too much for; Fe gagged, and not softly, but enough to have her head jerking up, needing Zoey's cock out. Delta was a bit disappointed, of course, but while she was happy to help push someone outside their comfort zone, she wasn't going to literally force Fe to choke on Zoey's cock.

You know. Unless she wanted to.

Fe had a brief coughing fit, saliva dripping from her lips into her hands as she hacked away. Zoey's cock glistened with her spit to about the halfway point—which would've been 'all the way in' for a regular cock. Fe had her work cut out, if she wanted all the way down.

Delta ought to help her out.

"Here," Delta said. "Get down on the table."

Fe obeyed, again, instantly. As Delta had picked up on, she liked being bossed around. Delta grabbed Zoey's cock, then cleared space for Fe as she situated herself.

"Turn around."

Fe did, so she was laying on her back. A few more instructions, and Delta had Fe situated in the position she wanted.

Fe laid across the table, stomach facing up, and her head leaning over the ledge. Delta grabbed Zoey's cock by the plate-glass base, then lined its tip up to Fe's mouth. Fe opened eagerly, neck pointing to the ceiling, and Delta pressed Zoey's cock forward.

She pushed the object in, slowly but insistently, watching it cram open Fe's throat.

Delta was fucking Fe's throat … with Zoey's cock. For a second, she admired the surreality of the situation, that the dildo in her hands wasn't a dildo, but Zoey's actual cock. And she was getting to pleasure Zoey by stuffing open the sheep-girl's throat with it.

Seriously. So awesome. Delta could get used to the items these lewd shards spat out.

Delta bottomed Zoey out, letting the glass touch Fe's lips. She admired the way her throat bulged out, and the way Fe tried to fight against her gag reflex.

Then she pulled out, and thrusted back in. Fe gagged at the sudden motion, but her hands didn't shoot up to ask Delta to stop.

Delta thought she had a good read on people. She liked taking charge, and urging her partners to go further than they would on their own, but she wouldn't ever force something. She watched Fe's reactions carefully—as she did all of her partners—for indications that her roughness wasn't something Fe wanted.

But the way Fe squirmed didn't leave much up to interpretation.

Delta worked into a rhythm, face-fucking Fe with eager thrusts of her arm, sliding Zoey's cock in and out with quick squelches, and a background chorus of Zoey, groaning in pleasure, which Delta couldn't see, occupied with the sheep girl.

The world's best, and weirdest, sex toy.

Delta glanced over. Zoey had leaned against the table with both hands, face pointed down as she panted. Her hips wiggled side to side in pace with Delta's thrusting. The weirdness of all this thrilled through her. This wasn't a toy she was thrusting down Fe's throat, but Zoey's actual cock.

Delta picked up speed. The squelching noises of Fe's violated throat became louder. So did Zoey's moans.

Fuck, Delta was so turned on. Why was this so hot?

Fe's hands went up, grabbing Delta's wrists, and Delta pulled Zoey's cock out of her throat. She sputtered, like before, as she sucked in oxygen. Fe was eager, but eagerness didn't mean she didn't need oxygen.

Zoey panted in the background, taking her brief reprieve.

Delta didn't give her long. With Fe having recovered, she pressed Zoey's cock back against her lips, then back into her throat. She was even rougher, this time. She worked Zoey's cock into Fe's tight hole with loud squelches, saliva flying from her lips with the jerking forcefulness of Delta's movements. Fe didn't protest. She took Zoey's cock in and out of her throat like she did it for a living. Delta was legitimately impressed. Fe was, as making itself amazing clear, no amateur to face-fucking. Delta's assumptions from earlier had confirmed themselves. Nerdy girls … what did the world do to deserve them?

Delta slid Zoey's cock out, letting Fe catch her breath. She set the object to the side, then walked to the opposite end of the long table, to where Fe's feet were hanging off. She unlaced Fe's shoes and tossed them to the side. Fe, after catching her breath from her throat-fucking, got to work eagerly, helping undress herself. She knew where Delta was going with this. Fun as a blowjob was, all three of them wanted to get to the good stuff.

Fe's lower half exposed, Delta grabbed Zoey's cock, then slapped it down on Fe's stomach. The hot, veiny member stuck up to the base of her breasts. Zoey's cock was impressive even laid out against Delta, but on a shorter girl—Fe was even smaller than Rosalie—its size seemed downright absurd.

A normal girl would've commented how it wouldn't fit, seeing it stick up so far up her body. Fe just started panting, then looked at Delta with begging eyes.

Delta slid Zoey's cock down her stomach, until its shaft was pressed into Fe's pussy. Delta rubbed the object up and down, delighting in the way Fe wiggled side to side, looking for better friction.

Man. She really wants this.

Delta didn't blame her.

"Lean up," Delta said. "Don't you want to see her reactions?" Zoey was standing to Delta's side, now, so Delta couldn't see what Zoey was doing, or what faces she was making. But if Fe leaned up, she could.

Fe did so. She got up on one elbow, propping herself up just enough to see Zoey. Their eyes locked, and Fe's blush deepened.

Delta dipped Zoey's cock down even further, pressing the tip against Fe's lower lips. Delta shook it side to side, gently, digging her cock head between soft folds, and just barely starting to spread them—half penetrating Fe, but not. Fe groaned. Behind Delta, Zoey was making similar noises. But Delta was mostly interested in Fe, at this point. Getting Zoey off was just a bonus.

"Ready?" Delta murmured.

"P-Please."

Delta pushed forward, sinking Zoey's cock into Fe.

Her experience in the shard, with the oversized toy, might have instated a new fascination in Delta—in watching large objects bulge skin outward. Zoey's cock wasn't as absurd as the one Delta had ridden, but it was still huge; as Delta pushed forward, sliding Zoey's cock into Fe's warm, tight walls, her stomach pushed up in pace with it, Zoey's member providing a visible indicator of where, exactly, it was venturing. Inch by inch.

Delta placed her hand on Fe's stomach, following the bulge upward as it traveled. She rubbed in circles against Fe, massaging Zoey's cock through the skin in the same way she had when it'd been in Fe's throat.

Fe shivered, placing her free hand over her mouth as she squeezed her eyes shut. Taking Zoey's cock wasn't an easy thing, even accounting for Zoey's skill. It had to hurt, at least in some small way. Hence Delta's slow advance.

The white plate hit Fe's lower lips, Zoey's cock fully inserted.

Fe released a breath, the growing pressure finally ceasing. Her shoulders slumped down.

Delta got to work.

She pulled out, then pushed back forward, sinking fourteen inches back into Fe. Fe cried out and collapsed back onto the table, no longer propping herself up to see Zoey.

Hips could only work so fast. Delta's pumping arm, using Zoey's cock as a toy, could move much faster.

Delta jerked Zoey's cock in and out of Fe, fascinated in the way it crawled up her stomach then down with each rapid thrust. The lewd noises of the two girls picked up at the same speed as Delta's vigor: the room went from breathless moans, gasps, and groans to outright cries of pleasure. Zoey's cock squelched with Delta's rapid, urgent thrusting.

While the woman laid out onto the table was a rapturous enough sight, Delta turned, glancing to her side. Zoey was fully hunched over, now, forehead pressed into the table as she gripped the ledge with white knuckles. Her hips jerked back and forth as if she were the one providing the motion that was giving her pleasure, not Delta. And instinctive reaction—she couldn't help herself from making her hips move, not with her cock sliding in and out of Fe.

And fuck, it was hot.

For all Delta hadn't even so much as touched herself, she felt awfully close to coming undone herself. If these two girls were finding this a tenth as scorching as Delta, then—

Fe cried out, hands scrambling at the table. "Fuck! Yes! Please!"

Then that. Fe fell apart under Delta's thrusting, her back arching as she started to spasm. Zoey's breath was growing ragged, too, so she was close herself—but not there, yet. Delta continued to pump. She massaged Fe's stomach as she did, jerking Zoey off with her hand even as her cock pumped into Fe's insides.

Finally, by the raggedness of Zoey's breathing, Delta could tell she was a second from coming. She pulled Zoey's cock out. They hadn't explicitly discussed where to finish, and Delta had realized too late, so the pulling out was the obvious course of action … much as she'd like to pump Fe full.

Delta pressed the linking plate into her own stomach, stabilizing it, and got to work milking out Zoey's finish.

Fe's climax had already wracked through her, and she'd clearly started to grow sensitive, so she didn't complain about Delta pulling Zoey out. She seemed vaguely not-there, anyway; her finish had crashed through her, leaving her seemingly half-conscious.

Zoey's cock swelled, and something crashed to the floor as Zoey's scrambling knocked some piece of equipment off the crowded table.

Here it comes.

Delta watched with fascination as the first hot string burst from Zoey's cock and sprayed onto Fe's stomach. White liquid coated the sheep-girl's body in long, sticky strands. Stomach, tits, face, hair—it got everywhere. Intentionally. Delta sprayed her down. And since this was Zoey's cock, it just kept coming. Plenty of ammunition to drench Fe with. Delta savored in the sight.

Then, halfway through using Zoey's cock as a spray-gun … the intrusive thoughts won. An idea popped into Delta's head, and she'd always been horrible at controlling herself. Still pumping her hand to work more of Zoey's payload out, Delta pivoted, lips curling in amusement, and she pointed Zoey's cock at Zoey herself.

Delta laughed delightedly as she hosed Zoey down. The first string caught her on the shoulder, and Zoey, realizing what was happening, staggered up from her keeled-over position.

"D-Delta," she groaned, legs shaking, and holding her hands up as if she could fend Delta off. "What the fuck are you—" The next string sprayed across her shirt, drenching her, and to her credit, her hands did block some of it.

"Come on. You like it." Zoey's legs were shaking with the strength of her orgasm … and the way her cock was pushing out hot strings in such powerful spurts gave it away, too. "Open your mouth."

Zoey tried to defend herself for one or two more spurts. Delta's hand milked expertly away, working as much as she could. She wanted more ammunition.

Whether intentional or not—whether it'd been the pleasure Delta's hands provided that opened Zoey's mouth as she whined out her satisfaction—Delta's next shot was perfect: Zoey's cock ejected her own hot seed across her face, and into her partially opened lips.

Zoey's complaints fell away. She let Delta milk her cock out onto her face, giving in, closing her eyes as Delta coated her. Her mouth fell open, and plenty of her own cum sprayed into her mouth, which she let happen. Her legs—and body—were shaking so hard Delta was amazed she was even staying upright.

Finally, Zoey's twitching finish left her. Zoey leaned heavily onto the table. Her eyes were glued shut by the seed covering her face, which she shakily worked at cleaning away.

Delta spared a glance for Fe. She was seated up, having likewise cleared her eyes so she could open them—having been as coated as Zoey. Her face burned red. She'd liked what she'd seen: Zoey's reactions at Delta emptying Zoey across her own face.

"Man," Delta said, admiring the glistening cock in her hands. "I really, really love this item."

Chapter 51

Chapter Text

"That cheap?" Rosalie asked. "Huh. I expected her to charge more. Our yield was larger, this time, and higher complexity."

Zoey and Delta shared a look. Delta grinned, then turned back to Rosalie and said, "Guess she was feeling generous. Maybe something put her in a good mood."

Rosalie narrowed her eyes, sensing something in Delta's words, but she didn't care enough to pursue. She brushed past it.

It wasn't like Zoey was trying to hide what had happened at Fe's workshop—Rosalie didn't care if Zoey got around, only the manner in which she did, as with the dressing room attendant—but explaining their encounter with Fe wasn't something Zoey could just blurt out.

'Hey, she probably gave us a discount because Delta fucked her brains out. Using my cock.'

Yeah, that would go over well.

And what an odd sort of an encounter it had been, too. Zoey had just stood there; she hadn't interacted with Fe at all, besides some blushing, steamy looks. Delta had been the one to use her cock to fuck the sheep girl. And what a sight it'd been, especially when paired with how she felt every jerking plunge of Delta's arm.

Portals. Pretty neat stuff. Zoey was really coming around on the stranger set of sex items they were receiving. Variety was the spice of life, and all that. Delta's adventurous spirit was rubbing off on her; Zoey thought she'd like to try out some weirder items, if they received them.

"So," Rosalie said. "You're headed to Sabina, next?" Zoey nodded, and Rosalie turned to Delta. "And you, to Maddy?"

"That's gonna be a fun talk," Delta said, and somehow, she sounded like she meant it. Zoey had found it seriously awkward to explain her class to Delta, but Delta didn't seem to hold the same reservations. Though, Zoey supposed, it wasn't her embarrassing situation to be in; it wasn't her class. But even if it was, Zoey thought Delta might find it hilarious to explain. Clearly, 'shameless' was a term well-applied to her orange-haired team member. "I wonder how she'll take it," Delta said. "I don't think she's a prude, but she doesn't get around, either. A sex class might be a bit much for her."

Rosalie didn't seem concerned. "There's always other options. And she only needs to train Zoey—joining the team is peripheral."

Though, Zoey thought, she still needed to work out how to 'recharge' during practice. It only worked with bonded targets, and asking Maddy to take care of it—a stranger—would be going way too far.

Zoey figured she might as well bring it up. Because there was a solution.

Zoey cleared her throat, though, hesitant at having to broach the topic. Delta was the shameless one, not her. "Uh. Recharging, during lessons. I think there might be a way to handle that? Without locking one of you down." Having to accompany her, Zoey meant. "The portal."

"Escort it around, and any time it gets hard, take care of it?" Delta asked, grinning. "Yeah, I was thinking that, too. Probably our best option, so you don't run out of juice. But who? Me, or Princess?"

Rosalie sniffed. "It depends when. That's hardly something that can be handled out in public. But I suppose if I must, I could work the event into my schedule. Perhaps during training."

"Don't sound too excited," Delta grinned. She saw through Rosalie's colored cheeks as easily as Zoey; the idea of needing to remotely 'take care' of Zoey titillated her. "But yeah. Comes down to scheduling," Delta agreed. "Can be either of us. We'll figure it out when I talk to Maddy, get a time she's available."

Zoey nodded, and a brief silence settled across the trio.

"Okay," Delta said. "Sounds like we have our plans. Meet up at the Guild, whenever, we'll figure out our next steps."

It was a bit odd being on her own.

Zoey had been accompanied nonstop since her arrival to this fantasy world. Either Rosalie, or Delta, or Not-Zoey—but besides small moments here and there, picking out clothes or shopping, Zoey hadn't struck out on her own in any meaningful way. Now, winding through the crowded streets and bridges of Treyhull, Zoey was alone. Unaccompanied.

It felt weird, honestly. And she must be growing stupidly co-dependent, because not a few minutes after parting, she already missed Rosalie and Delta. To her credit, how couldn't she?

Navigating on her lonesome was the smallest amount intimidating, too. There were maps and navigation boards scattered throughout the expansive city, but Rosalie had been the one to handle it, before. Not that it was overly complicated—the city was designed with visitors in mind, considering the nature of the Fractures—but still, Zoey had gotten used to relying on Rosalie for … well, everything. Zoey hadn't needed to be independent in about any way.

She found her way to the artificing district, only making a few wrong turns. She'd never been someone with a great sense of direction. If nothing else, seeing more of the city was exciting; though after a few days the majority of the novelty had worn off, exploring a fantasy world was far from something she'd accustomed herself to. And Treyhull—The City in the Trees—had plenty to admire.

Sabina's store was in much the same state as she remembered. While Sabina had a reputation for competency—hence Fe's recommendation of her—that reputation, Zoey had learned, extended only to the alchemy portion of her career. The shopkeeper portion, she couldn't be much worse at.

The storefront was in poor condition. The windows had visibly not been cleaned in ages, and while not in outright disrepair, the wooden planks were in need of freshening up, too. Nestled between several stores in much better shape, Sabina's neglect was all the more apparent.

Zoey wondered why she spent so little effort in maintaining her store and performing her peripheral duties as an alchemist. Even if she found them tedious or ill fitting of her, a prospering business would allow her to continue her research and advance her runes. That, at least, she should care about.

Maybe it wasn't intentional so much as outright ignorance? That seemed unlikely, but then again, Sabina had an air about her of … well, Zoey wasn't sure she was putting this the right way, but from the few interactions she'd had with the tall antlered woman, she didn't seem to think or behave like most people. Her hyper-fixation for experimentation seemed even more prominent than could be excused for a scientist, as Fe.

She'd remembered to flip over the 'OPEN' sign, at least.

The bell fixed to the top of the doorway rang as she stepped in.

Zoey scanned the interior of the messy alchemy store, looking for Sabina, but she was nowhere to be found. Approaching the cashier's desk, Zoey called out, "Sabina?"

"One minute," the delayed reaction came.

While Zoey waited for Sabina, she perused the shop. Her two visits to Sabina's store had been short, and she hadn't looked around much. Seeing how Sabina was to be her tutor, she would be becoming acquainted with this space. Zoey didn't know how in-depth she would be going with her crafting rune, but she wanted to give it a fair shot. Maybe Ephy had given it to her for a reason. Assuming Ephy was, in fact, behind the runes she'd received.

The store was a mess, in the same way as the outside. Shelves lined the walls, stuffed with potions, ingredients, and contraptions of various shapes and sizes. Utensils for alchemy, undoubtedly, and other strange miscellanea, but Zoey hadn't a clue what each was for. The large cauldron she kept in the corner of the store boiled at a steady, controlled rhythm. Like usual, Sabina had an active brew going, though she'd left it unattended. That part, Zoey didn't worry over. Sabina might have demonstrated a lack of care in many things, but her ability to brew—that much, she had a pristine record.

Eventually, Sabina appeared, emerging from the back room.

What struck Zoey first, like usual, was her height. Zoey had already been tall for a girl before her transformation, and Ephy's reworking of her body had added a few inches on top of that, from what she could tell. Sabina, however, towered over her, even still. Towered over everyone, just about. Six three? Maybe taller. And her antlers, which branched out another foot or more, added to her frame.

Even so, Zoey wouldn't call her 'imposing', necessarily. She was too stick-thin and elegant-looking to be intimidating. But … maybe for a sense of the phrase. She certainly drew attention wherever she went, Zoey felt safe in saying.

She was wearing her usual lab gear, which was curiously similar to what Zoey might have seen back home: a white lab coat, goggles, gloves, and practical-looking closed-toe shoes. Ready for working with dangerous substances, which, though Zoey was no experienced alchemist, she assumed there would be plenty of. If nothing else, working with cauldrons of boiling liquid justified the dress.

Her goggles were pulled up and placed on her forehead. Cold gray eyes appraised Zoey, and while Zoey wouldn't call the woman's figure intimidating, her eyes undoubtedly were. She had the sternness of an orphanage matron, or a school principal—or those were the images that jumped into Zoey's head, at least. She brooked no incompetence, one could appraise on first sight, and while the woman's impassive scrutiny of Zoey wasn't disapproving, it was certainly … well, scrutinizing.

To sum it up, she was as hot as Zoey remembered. Zoey's heart rate inappropriately picked up, and her response came a second slower than it ought to have.

"Uh, hey," Zoey said. "I'm back."

"I can see that." Sabina's gaze flicked to the slow-boiling cauldron in the corner of the room, then returned to her. "What did you bring?"

No niceties, or polite statements that Sabina was happy to see she hadn't turned into monster food, but Zoey had expected as much.

"Lots," Zoey said. "Got a good haul, this time. Some interesting stuff. I was wondering, too, if you weren't busy—maybe we could have our first lesson?"

Zoey realized now might not be the most convenient time. It was daylight hours, and, ostensibly, the time Sabina would be making her living by selling potions. At a minimum, she was working on a brew, as shown by the cauldron in the corner of the room. Then again, Sabina's shop really didn't see much traffic, and her active brew could maybe be made the lesson.

"Hm," Sabina said, giving it a second's thought. "Now is as good as ever, I suppose."

And yeah, it looked like it was fine. Convenient. And also concerning—seriously, why was this woman so bad at business? Sabina definitely should stay open; wasn't she barely making ends meet, as it was?

It was a hefty serving of 'she simply didn't care', Zoey thought, but she also felt confident it was ignorance, too. As if the idea she needed to stay open and look for customers to make money didn't even pass through her head.

It wasn't really Zoey's place, seeing how she barely knew Sabina, but she might try to broach the subject at some point. Maybe give her a few pointers, though that would be awkward—again, she didn't exactly have the right, or her own experience managing a business. But obvious suggestions. Like cleaning things up. And … opening and closing at consistent times.

Honestly, a partnership might be useful, here. Zoey had some odd ingredients, and with Sabina's talent with alchemy, they could coax out their uses. Lewd potions of all sorts … if Sabina straightened up her store, there might be money to be made, together. Money didn't seem like a bottleneck, something Zoey needed to put significant effort into earning, but Rosalie didn't have access to her family's funds as it stood, and Zoey wouldn't want to mooch off her anyway, when the time came that she did.

Maybe Zoey could make her own small fortune. Sex potions ought to sell well, wouldn't they? It depended on just how rare these reagents were, she supposed, and whether there were equivalents to be found.

"Your yield," Sabina said, walking to the counter, and dragging Zoey back from her brief contemplation. "Let's see it."

Chapter 52

Chapter Text

"The collection kit you gave me wasn't much use," Zoey said, setting it on the counter. "The shard, uh, took our inventories. That might be a recurring trend."

Zoey hadn't told Sabina what her class was, but she was aware that Zoey's first shard had involved lewdness … if not the exact specifics. Zoey had also implied, before leaving, that she suspected the second shard would too. Knowing that Sabina was an intelligent woman, and that shards morphed themselves according to the people entering them, she had to suspect it was Zoey, or her teammates, influencing it to be so.

Zoey wouldn't be surprised if she'd deduced the general shape of Zoey's class, even. She seemed perceptive enough to. At the same time, she visibly didn't care; she hadn't questioned Zoey at all, or even seemed interested, beyond how the shards Zoey was venturing into provided unique ingredients. So maybe she didn't.

"You found a similar shard, then?" Sabina asked.

"More or less."

"So reagents similar to the first batch."

Zoey nodded.

"Perfect." Sabina seemed pleased.

Sabina's satisfaction wasn't from perversion—in wanting to experiment with what effects lewd ingredients could provide. Or … in a way, it was. But for the rarity, and novelty, more than the sexual aspects. Zoey didn't know Sabina well, but that she enjoyed experimenting with rare and unique alchemy reagents was a given. She'd outright said so. It was one of the conditions of her teaching Zoey; Zoey had to provide her with a steady stream of interesting reagents for her to see the arrangement as 'suitable'.

Zoey scooted the kit to the side. She probably ought to bring it along on future expeditions, even if she might never get a chance to use it. No reason to not. Inventories weren't infinite, but they were pretty big. Plenty of room for the kit.

"So," Zoey said. "I'll get to it, then." She hesitated, briefly, on what to drag out of her inventory and showcase first. She should work her way up. Start with the most normal reagents, then get to the … more disorienting ones. Like the gigantic toy's cum, which Delta had extracted, and Zoey had scooped up in emptied-out potion vials. That would be interesting to explain to Sabina, who would undoubtedly want a full recounting of its origin, simply for practical matters.

Fortunately, Zoey didn't get the sense Sabina would be awkward about any of this. She'd been stalwartly impassive when it came to discussions over the lewd potions and ingredients they'd worked with, in a similar way to Fe, but even more so. Zoey didn't know whether that was because Sabina was unaffected, or if she was a hard woman to read.

A bit of both, if Zoey had to guess.

So. Start with the normal stuff, work up to the weirder.

Zoey pulled out the small black bag, tied with a tan ribbon at the top, filled with [Pink Fairy Dusty]. She set it on the counter, and Sabina didn't waste a moment to inspect the item—both, at a guess, the mundane sort of 'inspect', and the ability afforded to denizens of this world.

[Pink Fairy Dust: A shimmering pink powder. Can be used to prepare potions that intensify, and crystallize, dreams.

"This one's not explicitly, uh, lewd, but considering everything else we got, I think it's safe to assume the effects won't be … entirely normal."

Sabina pursed her lips as she peered into the bag. She set it down, picked up long, flat metal utensil, then scooped up a tiny portion of the fine powder, inspecting the dust with a steady hand and a keen eye.

"Fairy dust," Sabina finally said. "A common reagent, all things considered. But pink. I've never seen pink fairy dust. How intriguing." She poured the powder back into the bag and tied it off, pushing it to the side. "I'll trust your intuition. Though, what precisely do you mean?"

Sabina's clinical nature helped Zoey not feel awkward about her explanations. And, sheesh, she had a lot worse to get through, so she better get used to saying embarrassing things without stuttering over herself. "Sex dreams? Maybe makes them more realistic? Can't say for sure, but something like that."

"We'll prepare our bases with that assumption in mind, then."

"Prepare our bases?"

Sabina paused. "Hm. Before brewing, a potion base needs to be primed with ingredients appropriate to the desired, or suspected, effect. And the proper liquid, as well. It influences what sorts of results can be coaxed from the catalyzing ingredient." Sabina gestured at the fairy dust. "The 'main ingredient', in layman's terms—the ingredients normally found in shard loot, rather than out and about in the Fracture's natural terrain, or imported from Haven. We'll discuss all this during our lessons. Not now. Please, continue."

Zoey had to refrain from further questions. It made sense, of course, that potion brewing wasn't just throwing a random assortment of items into a pot of water and hoping for the best, but the casual explanation implied brewing might be more complex than Zoey had thought.

Honestly, she was excited for it. The same as how she was excited to learn how spell-casting worked, in depth. Rosalie's expeditious pace had meant Zoey hadn't had time to learn her runes in any meaningful capacity.

Zoey pulled the next item out.

[Twinrose: An unidentified alchemy reagent. Two red flowers entwine into each other, preserved but delicate.

"Honestly," Zoey said, placing down the two long, healthy flowers. "I've no clue what this one does. The description doesn't give a hint, either."

Like with the fairy dust, Sabina appraised the flowers with a critical eye. She treated the items as if they would crumble in her hands, though they were, as the description implied, healthy—preserved, two roses entwined, and while severed from their plant, perfectly lush. Certainly not at risk of disintegrating while being handled.

Sabina's tendency to treat items like they were delicate was, presumably, a habit. Zoey ought to do the same. Imitating the masters—or at least, the highly proficient—was, as a general rule, a safe way to improve. And Zoey wanted to acquire bare competence in alchemy as soon as possible.

Which was ironic. She'd told Delta a while ago, during that date of theirs, that Zoey had been a bit useless, growing up. She'd been too distractible, not motivated enough, and she hadn't made much of herself … or been on a path to do so. But now, transported into a fantasy world, she was interested in applying herself?

To be fair, alchemy was a lot more interesting than professions back home. One of the benefits of being, y'know, transmigrated to a fantasy world, was that what everyone else saw as mundane … wasn't to her.

"Curious," Sabina said. "I suspect it needs to be prepared before the reagent will provide a hint in its description."

"Prepared?"

"Diced, ground, burnt—so on." She frowned. "Though, we have limited supply. Only two flowers. We'll need to be moderated how we go about testing." Sabina waved her hand impatiently, as if that would come later, and she didn't want to discuss it, now. "Next, please."

Zoey didn't take offense at the brusqueness of the request. "This is where we get to the weirder stuff," she said. "Our inventories were emptied, but I still kept an eye out for things that might make useful reagents." Zoey coughed. "And, uh, this is what I collected."

She pulled out four vials of white liquid.

[Imbuing Ejaculate: A thick white substance extracted from an oversized pleasure appendage.

Like the first time she'd read the description, 'oversized pleasure appendage' was equally amusing as it was absurd. It was … certainly a creative way to describe that gigantic toy Delta had rode.

Sabina eyebrows went up, which was, all things considered, a more moderated reaction than Zoey could have hoped for. It wasn't something easy to take in.

"Explain?" Sabina asked.

"Oh, boy," Zoey laughed. She definitely felt awkward about doing so, but she might as well be a professional. "There was, uh, a giant … dildo. Made of white gel. One of my teammates … pleasured it, and it produced that."

Sabina spared a glance for her, seeming amused for the first time since Zoey had met her, then turned her attention back to the glass vial, which she'd picked up to inspect. "I see. Did you collect the gel, as well?"

"I did, actually."

Another spared glance, this one appreciative. Zoey felt inordinately proud at that. She'd done something right, it looked like, since if that was where Sabina's mind had gone, there must be high odds the gel would actually be useful—or have the potential for being so.

"Do you have, uh, paper or something? To set it on? I collected it … raw. With a knife."

Sabina reached down beneath the counter and laid out a slice of brown paper. Zoey withdrew a hefty chunk of the material and set it down; it dampened the paper where it touched. It was the slightest bit sticky. Or lubricated.

Probably, some of it was … Delta. And the toy's cum. Zoey ought to warn Sabina about that. She cleared her throat. "It's, uh, not clean. Fresh from the vine." Her cheeks colored, unable to help herself.

"Mmm." Sabina wasn't put off, though a pause, and a sideways glance, showed that she'd picked up what Zoey had implied. Zoey was grateful for her enduring nonchalance. "That's what gloves are for, are they not?" She picked up the material and turned it around. Zoey wondered what she was looking for, whether her appraisal had some practical purpose to it.

Zoey supposed she could ask. "What are you looking for?"

"Anything unusual," Sabina answered. "Quality and consistency of the material. Irregularities." She shrugged, setting the material back onto the paper. "Nothing in specific, if that's what you mean."

Zoey nodded. "So you think it might … yield an effect?" Was that the way she should phrase it? Sabina didn't correct her.

"Perhaps. Certainly a possibility. Is there anything else?"

"Just those four."

Sabina nodded, not disappointed. "Four ingredients I've never seen before—or heard of. 'Just' isn't the proper word to use. An exceptional yield."

"Ah." That was good. "Should I put it back?" She gestured at the gel. The material was kept supernaturally fresh inside her inventory, but it might dry up, left out.

"May I?" Sabina asked, instead.

Zoey paused. "Sure." She didn't have a problem with that. It was effectively her payment for having Sabina teach her. And their agreement from earlier still held; Sabina only wanted the ingredients to experiment with, but whatever she created would go to Zoey.

Which, honestly, Zoey was excited for. The infertility potion had been useful, but not exciting. What would these ingredients do? What kind of lewd shenanigans was she in for? Potent sex dreams, from the sound of the pink fairy dust. Then again, was she not being creative enough? The effect might be even more interesting. And there could be a few different results of what they end up with.

Speaking of the infertility potion, though, there'd been another ingredient Zoey had dropped off with Sabina.

"Hey, uh," Zoey said. "The coruscant flameroot. Did you get that figured out, while I was gone?" Sabina hadn't managed to finish the potion with that ingredient, only the blossom blight, which had produced the infertility potion.

"Indeed," Sabina said. "Here." She deposited the rest of the items Zoey had presented into her inventory, then turned and headed for the backroom. She beckoned for Zoey to follow her. "Come see."

Chapter 53

Chapter Text

The backroom was, unsurprisingly, Sabina's laboratory and storeroom.

Most eye-catching was the quantity of ingredients. Shelves packed almost the entirety of the wallspace, see-through and labeled, of varying sizes. Most were no taller and wider than her fist, but plenty varied, some up to a full dresser drawer. Inside, powders or pouches or other miscellaneous ingredients were tucked.

There were too many to pay attention to, following Sabina into her laboratory, but Zoey's eyes snagged on a few of the labels, and the objects within.

Aetherium Geodes, one label read. Nestled behind the see-through plastic-like material that acted as a window to each ingredient, cracked-open rocks with jutting white-blue crystals sparkled. One drawer down and to the left, 'Solis Regulus', a bright gold powder filling the container to the half-way point. Even more intriguingly, a few drawers away from that, objects labeled 'Moonlight Drops', which were knuckle-sized glass orbs with crescent-moons glowing in their depths. Zoey was briefly perplexed, because how did the shape show so clearly on each orb? Regardless of their orientation? Some of them ought to be slivers, or not showing because of the angle, but instead, the crescent-moon stood out on each, the same size and shape. Like an optical illusion.

"Mm," Sabina said. "Here they are."

Zoey shook off her intrigue and tore her eyes away. There were a hundred more reagents she'd be fascinated to look over, and a dozen more things in Sabina's lab besides that, but she'd come here with a purpose: the potions Sabina had made while she'd been gone. Presumably, Zoey would learn what some—probably not all—of these reagents did during her tutelage.

Sabina was standing in front of a wide vial shelf. The wooden structure was as tall as Sabina, with slots for hundreds—maybe even a thousand or more—glass vials. To the left and right of the vial shelf, there were shelves for larger potions: flasks, beakers, and a variety of oddly-shaped glass containers. Some were full of different colored liquids, and some were empty.

Zoey took the four vials Sabina had held her way.

[Potion of Vulnerability: Apply to increase sensitivity of target area.

[Potion of Inflammation: Consume to inflame sexual desires.

"Two mutations," Sabina said. "Two of each. As you can see. It seems coruscant flameroot is a versatile reagent, and better yet, it takes very little powder to catalyze … I'm quite pleased. Perhaps I can tease out more effects over the following days. Certainly, I can improve the efficacy of each."

"Wow," Zoey said. She hardly had a baseline to go by, but she was impressed. She didn't think most alchemists would have gotten so much done, so fast. "Uh, awesome." Zoey would make good uses of these potions. "Can you make more?"

"The process has been documented. So yes. Easily."

"Perfect." Because Zoey wanted to use these for … less than practical purposes. Obviously, if Zoey had had a limited supply, she would have had to save them for shards. Against Not-Zoey, or Mel, for example, potions that increased sensitivity or lust would have been useful. But since Sabina could apparently make as many as she needed—or at least not a stifling restrictive quantity—then Zoey could use them just to have fun, and not feel overly guilty for being wasteful.

Aphrodisiacs. And sensitivity. Zoey wondered how potent each would be … and what kinds of noises she could extract from Rosalie with them. Or Delta. She would, at a guess, be just as enthusiastic to experiment as Zoey.

Or Fe. After the events of earlier, Zoey assumed she'd be up for more. So many possibilities. Really, how did she get so lucky?

"But, how does it work?" Zoey asked. "The sensitivity potion? It says apply. How much?"

Sabina tilted her head. At a guess, Zoey had asked a question that was common knowledge. Sabina knew Zoey had 'memory problems', so she didn't comment. "As with all potions, the effect will amplify, up to a maximum. In the same way a minor health potion's dose is a single vial, and a second vial wouldn't help further—you would need a more potent potion—a salve will absorb to a certain quantity … then provide no additional effect."

"How much would it take? The whole vial?" Zoey had asked in the first place because that seemed absurd. If she was only applying it to, say, her nipples, then a full vial would obviously be too much to put in such a small area. "It scales with surface area?"

A quirked eyebrow. "Indeed. I couldn't give specifics. Salves tend to go quite far. I suspect you won't run out nearly as fast as the potions of inflammation."

Zoey paused, briefly recognizing that Sabina was entirely aware that Zoey would be 'making use' of these potions, and undoubtedly knew what that entailed. She coughed, then brushed past the topic. "And do you have more of the infertility potions?"

Sabina nodded. "As the previous, it requires little of the blossom blight to catalyze, and I've been refining the process. With what you've provided," Sabina paused, eyes flicking to the left, as if referencing her memory, "I could make perhaps four dozen more."

Four dozen? That was a lot—certainly enough to sort Zoey out in the short term. But not an infinite supply. Would Zoey find more of the ingredient, eventually? She hoped so. The potions were critical, assuming she didn't want to be knocking girls up left and right.

And, while the idea did excite her, in reality, it would be highly inconvenient to deal with. Delta, or Rosalie, wouldn't be pleased if that happened … to say the least.

There were other ways to handle such an event—Callie, that dressing room attendant, had mentioned a 'plan-B' potion of sorts—but Zoey would rather have the assurance of her own solution.

"Assuming you only want the infertility," Sabina amended. "Less, if you want the opposite."

Right. Because the ingredient could be catalyzed either way: both a lack of fertility, and a boost in it. "Uh, just the first," Zoey said.

"I assumed so. I have more, if you want to store them. Some weaker, some stronger. I made several batches."

As she went about refining it, Sabina meant. It made sense some would be better and worse, depending on how well the experiments went. "Yes, please." Might as well carry them around. Eventually Zoey would run out of inventory space, but that day wasn't today.

Sabina rummaged around in the storage shelf, withdrawing vial after vial, which Zoey tucked away into that convenient pocket dimension.

"I really don't have to pay?" Zoey asked.

"You paid through the opportunity to work with rare ingredients," Sabina said dismissively.

Zoey knew that, but she still felt like she was making off too well. She felt like she should pay Sabina … especially considering Zoey would be receiving lessons from her. The deal felt too one-sided. Even if Sabina didn't think so, Zoey felt a bit guilty. Was she taking advantage of Sabina's lack of interest—or lack of business acumen?

Then again, Zoey was hoping for a long-term arrangement with Sabina … one where they both made a hefty profit from the lewd ingredients Zoey was collecting. Zoey wouldn't broach that topic for a bit, but if Sabina agreed, then with luck, they'd both make a pretty penny. That would be how Zoey paid her back.

"That's it, for now," Sabina said. "I will, of course, continue to brew. But my focus will be with the new reagents. That was enough?"

Sabina had handed off more than enough to keep Zoey supplied for the short term. "Yeah."

"Then, lessons?"

"If you're free."

"I'll work as we talk. At your skill level, a lecture is what will serve you best. You know too little to perform even basic experiments."

That was fair. Again, Zoey didn't take offense at the directness. In a way, Sabina was like Delta … though in a completely different way of 'overly honest'. Sabina was clinical and, rudely though accurately, insensitive. Delta, on the other hand, was simply blunt and opinionated. At least from the appraisals Zoey had made. It was a bit crazy to think about how she'd only known Delta for two days. It felt like much longer.

Zoey followed Sabina out of her laboratory. It seemed she wouldn't be closing shop for the lesson, as Zoey had first assumed. Zoey supposed that since she was going to only be lectured at, that was fair. She had a lot to learn before she could dive into the nitty-gritty. Before she could dive into the 'practical' experiments, even.

Zoey'd never liked sitting and listening to lectures, but in this instance, she thought she'd handle it fine. She was excited to learn.

"The basics, first," Sabina said. "The general process. Realize I'm skipping over nuance, here. Generalizing."

"An overview," Zoey said with a nod. She pulled out a notebook and pen—one of the many items she'd bought during her and Rosalie's first 'preparation' shopping trip—and cracked it open to the first page. Zoey had a fine enough memory, she guessed, but she didn't want to be pestering Sabina all the time, if she forgot something she'd told her; notes would help with that.

Plus, it would endear Sabina to her, hopefully. Make her seem like an attentive student. Sabina had already stated directly that she was no teacher, so Zoey would need to put in effort to get as much as she could from her. It would be a two-person effort, to get Zoey caught up.

"First," Sabina said, "of course, is the pre-preparation step. Gathering ingredients. Perhaps an obvious statement, but in our profession, nothing should be taken for granted. Thoroughness is key. Meticulousness, attention to detail. In your education, we will start from the beginning, and end at the end."

As she talked, she adjusted dials on the front of the cauldron, eying the surface of the liquid as it boiled in a steady rhythm. Fat red bubbles popped lazily, here and there, and specks of black floated around. The cauldron wasn't just a big iron pot; it was visibly an advanced piece of technology, for what passed as 'technology' in this world. If Zoey had to guess, eventually they would go over what the cauldron was capable of. Temperature adjustment, to name the obvious. Clearly, it was the cornerstone utility for potion brewing. For bulk batches, at least. There had been smaller apparatuses inside Sabina's laboratory, some with what appeared to be active brews inside.

"But," Sabina conceded, "the part where our profession defines itself begins on step two. Base preparation." She nodded at Zoey's notebook. "You'll want to detail each. There's a lot to go over, even summarizing."

Chapter 54

Chapter Text

"Base preparation," Sabina said. "Let's start with liquid type. You truly remember nothing?"

Zoey paused. Her 'amnesia', Sabina meant. The easy answer would be 'yes', but Zoey felt a more honest disclosure was in order. "I remember some things. But there's huge black spots. You can assume I'm a blank slate."

Sabina pursed her lips. "That may be difficult. I'm sure I'll assume some sort of prerequisite knowledge … but I'll try not to. Inform me if I take something for granted."

"Sure."

Sabina turned back to her cauldron. She'd withdrawn a giant metal spoon—the utensil looked a bit amusing, to be honest—and was stirring the thick red sludge with it. Zoey wanted to ask what potion she was working on, but she needed to stay focused. She'd always had a problem with being distractible.

"Liquid types, then," Sabina said. "The standard is, of course, mana-imbued distilled water. Moderately reactive, pure and consistent, but most of all, cheap and simple to obtain in bulk."

Zoey scribbled down notes, listening attentively.

"And palatable," Sabina added, "though that's far from highest consideration. But blood potions do tend to put some customers off, as well as other bases. It's not an irrelevant consideration, in our field."

"Blood?"

"Highly reactive," Sabina explained, misinterpreting Zoey's question. "Typically useful for experimentation … except for financial restraints. Ethically sourced sapient blood is difficult to acquire. Livestock … easier, but far less effective. Might as well use various liquors, at that point."

Zoey was starting to understand. "Every liquid has different properties, and is useful in different situations?"

"Mm. Not exactly. Some are strictly superior to others. Plain distilled water is strictly worse than mana-imbued. Some materials aren't strictly superior … but in nearly no situations would you use the inferior type. For example, honey and fruit juice."

"Fruit juice?" Zoey's eyebrows went up. That didn't sound like a particularly … potion-y liquid. "I guess it'd taste good, at least."

"Sweet-tasting potions are particularly popular with low-rank adventurers," Sabina said, nodding. "They haven't found the stomach for upper-level potions yet." Sabina paused, then tacked on as an explanation, "The most effective bases aren't the ones that sit well, as a general rule."

"Yours didn't taste too bad." Er, was 'not too bad' an insult? They certainly hadn't been tasty, though. "What were they, anyway? The infertility potions."

Sabina's lips curled. "You wouldn't like the first iterations. Blood and liquors are reactive … and don't cook well. They're used for finding an effective recipe, then when discovered, stabilization using more … normal … bases are sought out. The general invention process. I gave you the first palatable batch. Water, with some post-brew taste additives."

"Ah." That made sense. Zoey was kind of curious what the 'first batch' tasted like. By the way Sabina was making it sound … seriously hard to stomach. Though, cooked blood … yeah. Reasonable.

"You're side-tracking us," Sabina said. "Let me start over. The most common bases. Mana-imbued distilled water for bulk, common potions—health, mana, stamina, so on. The bread and butter of alchemy; perhaps fifty percent of any given alchemist's sales. Beyond that, other bases are used for experimentation and specialized potions. Blood and liquors for their reactivity, and easy mutation … but worse final quality, detriments to efficacy and duration. High level, unique effects often require blood or liquor, though not always—and depending on the advancement and skill of the brewer. Honey is the standard for potency, but with significant downsides in longevity. Useful for short-term, powerful effects. The opposite end of the spectrum, various milks. Long duration, moderate decrease in potency."

The inappropriate question that flashed into Zoey's head was entirely her fault … she coughed, and pointedly didn't voice it.

Sabina glanced her way. "What? Ask."

Zoey wished she hadn't caught the reaction. "Um. Nothing. Just had … a thought."

"Ask."

Zoey really shouldn't. But she found herself inordinately curious. "It's inappropriate."

"Ask." There was a hint of exasperation, now.

Okay. Zoey guessed plenty of other things had been inappropriate, considering their arrangement. "What about semen?"

Sabina's stirring stilled.

Zoey coughed. "As a base. What's it do? Just, you know, out of curiosity."

Sabina turned slowly, and gave Zoey an amused look. It had Zoey flushing, because Sabina wasn't an easy woman to amuse.

"Well," Sabina said. "I appreciate the curiosity. So as I said, ask. I'm hardly offended. And fringe cases are the most interesting … I understand the intrigue." She turned back to her cauldron. "Semen. It's been done before. I read a paper during my years at the Institute. I'm not sure I could remember the results. The obvious difficulty is, of course, difficulty of procurement. The paper emphasized that. Average ejaculate for most sapient races is quite small. Collecting enough even for a single brew is … impractical."

Zoey paused. She'd been candid enough to ask the question of Sabina, but her follow up thought … that Zoey's 'average output' would make that particular hurdle much easier … she didn't voice. Sabina was easygoing when it came to inappropriate topics, but Zoey explaining how she produced about a hundred times what was normal was … probably too much information.

"But you don't remember?"

"I don't. Which means it was nothing inspiring. Likely an inferior result of some other standard base, as is the case for most odd liquids. Spit, and," Sabina paused, "other bodily functions, to avoid being obscene, don't make good bases, either. Only milk and blood."

"Huh."

"You side tracked us again. We have a lot to go over."

Sabina didn't sound annoyed, just like she was corralling Zoey back. Zoey flushed anyway … she'd told herself she'd be a good student. "Sorry. Keep going." She hesitated. "Though, I have a practical question. What about mixing? Say, diluting blood with water? Or whatever else."

Sabina was already shaking her head. "Purity. Purity is king. Mixtures rarely benefit any aspect of alchemy. Certain ingredients blend well … but those are exceptions."

"I see." Zoey went quiet, letting Sabina continue her lecture. She jotted down the revelations into her notebook.

"We're sticking to bases for too long. It's only the first stage. Truthfully, this is information found in any reference book. I would suggest you pick one up. Even experienced alchemists can't remember every reagent, every base, and their interactions."

"Which do you use?"

Sabina paused. "Hm. At the Institute, the assigned reference was 'The Alchemical Laboratory: Tools, Techniques, and Experimentation'. Third edition. Authored by …" Sabina thought for a second. "Magistra Eliza Gold, if I recall. It's been some years. Perhaps you could find a copy floating around. But any reference would do."

So, most experienced alchemists needed to use a reference … but Sabina's answer had made it clear she didn't. She must have an offensively good memory, if her easy recollection of a textbook from years ago hadn't shown that. Definitely not something Zoey was blessed to have. Though, she didn't think she'd ever be as good as Sabina. Obviously not. This woman had been training for the subject for a long time. She'd attended some 'institute' … likely a university equivalent.

"I tend to use my own notes," Sabina added. "I've found … certain inconsistencies in generally well-regarded texts. Reinventing the wheel is a poor idea … but I would rather discover first-hand the axioms we operate by."

"I'll find something today, then. After I leave."

Sabina nodded. "Detailing every potion base to you would be a waste of time. Learn them on your own. Know that in day-to-day, water, honey, milk, blood, and liquor are the staples. Hm. But liquid type isn't the only aspect of preparing a base, only the most influential. I won't go into detail, but certain imbuing methods can prime liquids to be more effective in certain regards … duration, potency, and reactivity, the three recurring cornerstones. Additionally, they ready the base for accepting certain sorts of effects. An even more varied topic … best left for self-research."

Zoey nodded along.

"Moving on. Brewing. Where alchemy is otherwise a profession of knowledge, brewing is the … skill-reliant stage. There's a surprising amount of intricacy that tutelage can't provide."

"Really?"

Sabina hummed. "It wouldn't seem so, watching an alchemist go about production. But it's true. Alchemy is not simply memorizing recipes and performing predetermined actions. Come look."

Zoey took a step closer, peering in at the bubbling cauldron Sabina had indicated. "What?"

"This portion is overheating," Sabina said, stirring the liquid. "At two o'clock. The bubbles give it away. I couldn't begin to tell you how to determine such a thing; it's simply obvious to me. An intuition which is afforded to us by our rune … or so is the consensus in the artificing community. But regardless—brews are temperamental. They don't want to stabilize. They struggle for entropy, to revert to a disordered state, in clever and interesting ways. There's a certain instinct needed to identify problems as they emerge. It's the least teachable part of alchemy, and what separates the wheat from the chaff. The good from the mediocre."

"And it comes with practice?"

Sabina nodded. "Or, excellency is discovered with practice, at least. Whether it exists in everyone, innately, is a matter of philosophy."

Zoey had always wondered that. Whether everyone could be exceptional at something, assuming they worked hard enough. At a very minimum, not everyone could be world-class. There seemed to be some enigmatic quality in certain people that allowed it. But Zoey wasn't trying to be a world-class alchemist … just pretty good. She did think anyone could reach that point—though admittedly some faster than others.

"But as to the point," Sabina said. "Brewing. As with bases, the three main qualities—potency, duration, reactivity—are affected during the active brewing process. Primarily, by two things: temperature, and duration of the cook itself. Long simmers result in long durations, and weaker potency. High temperature raises reactivity, producing more colorful effects. On the other hand, low temperatures—some brews are chilled, rather than heated—produce stable, consistent results. Which is useful, occasionally. All things are useful, occasionally. Standard brewing is done with heat."

"And a quick brew means higher potency?" Zoey asked, just to be sure. "With less duration?"

"Indeed. Hm. Beyond that, there are requirements of the process that only prevent a brew from degrading, rather than being adjustable to your goal, as temperature or cook length. For example, consistency. Maintaining even distribution of ingredients, and of the temperature across the liquid, is a necessity. Failure to do so will result only in inferior product, or failure to catalyze at all."

"Huh," Zoey said. "And that book you recommended goes more in depth?"

Sabina nodded. "I'm giving you an overview, but you'll want to dive deeper on your own. Where I'll come in most use for you is hands-on oversight, or questions you might have that self-study couldn't provide answers to."

"Makes sense." It seemed Zoey had some work cut out for her, poring over a textbook. That wasn't Zoey's style, but again … when it came to magical potion-making, which would eventually result in lewd potions to play with … she thought she'd be able to make herself sit still.

"After brewing is the final step," Sabina said. "Bottling. Outsiders might assume this step is irrelevant. It is not. The physical properties of what you pour a completed brew into affects the final result."

"Oh," Zoey said. "You're right. I wouldn't have expected that. What kind of properties? Material?"

"In much the same way imbued water is the standard, so is glass," Sabina said. "But I'm sure you've noticed some deviation."

Zoey had. Sabina's shelves were predominantly filled with thin glass vials, but there were plenty of exceptions.

"And shape," Sabina added. "Not just material. Again, I'll give a bird's-eye view. As with everything else, finances come into play. Glass is cheap, and vials are easily manafactured—or collected and repurposed from expended shard loot. As for the properties … glass is inert. It doesn't affect potions in any particular way. Something like wood, however, is preserving. Even under extreme temperatures, or long storage times, the potion won't spoil."

"Potions spoil?"

Sabina quirked an eyebrow. "I just said they did."

Zoey nodded. "Yeah. Just surprised, I meant." Sabina's blunt reply had showed, again, she wasn't the best at interpreting Zoey's non-direct responses. She really was a bit odd. It was kind of cute. Maybe it'd be abrasive if Sabina had sounded annoyed, but she said everything so matter-of-fact, not irritated. "And metal?" That had been the third potion-holder she'd seen in Sabina's shop.

"Iron," Sabina corrected. "Iron is an interesting one. It's good for a … sort of fermentation. Letting a potion sit inside an iron container can result in curious final products." Her lips quirked. "And, more mundanely, it's a material not prone to shattering. Which has certain use-cases during a hectic mission, so I've been told."

Zoey usually took potions preemptively, so she'd never needed to take one out in the middle of a fight … but yeah, she saw Sabina's point. "And all the funky shapes," Zoey said.

"Shaping is an odd thing," Sabina said. "And unreliable. But yes. Each has noticeable effects. Vials, as I said, are common because of their inertness; many alchemists prefer not to deal with temperamental bottling. Even I keep it to a minimum. The results are usual more detrimental than helpful. I prefer to refine a process than experiment with bottling."

"That makes sense."

"Round containers—truly round, not oblong like a vial—tend toward improved duration. Blocky, toward potency. And finally, odd shapes, reactivity … what the final result might be, after settling inside the container."

"Odd shapes?"

"Odd shapes. Non conventional. Do I need to specify?"

"No, I get it." Anything that didn't fall into conventionally 'round', 'blocky', or a 'vial', she guessed. Wacky designs, like Zoey could imagine being in a mad scientist's laboratory. "This is pretty cool. There's some things I had no idea about."

"We've barely scratched the surface."

"I've got a question, though," Zoey said. "Not related to what we've talked about, if that's fine?"

Sabina waved her hand, indicating to go ahead.

"You mentioned a while ago there were 'adventuring alchemists'. That some people's alchemy rune advanced in different ways."

Sabina bobbed her head. "Since you seem intent on wayfaring, I presume that's the shape yours will take."

"What's that entail?"

"What does any advancement entail? I couldn't begin to answer." Sabina hesitated. "But generally? Skills that aid in field-brewing. Likely, you'll never create potions as powerful as mine, or … inferior in every way, truthfully, but you'll be able to do so in difficult environments, with minimal equipment and resources. It's quite useful, I've heard, tailoring a potion—even if it may be weaker than average—to whatever situation you find yourself in."

"Huh." Zoey could see how it would be.

That her potions wouldn't be quite as strong did suck a little bit, but of course there were trade offs. The 'lab worker' alchemists could produce better product, but Zoey would—eventually—be able to throw something together in the middle of a shard.

"Now," Sabina said. "This batch is done, so let me handle it before we continue. You can watch me pour."

Chapter 55

Chapter Text

Tracking down Maddy took some effort, but not too much. Delta found her in the training hall, the third place she checked, the first two being her room, then the guild's common area.

Fortunately, Maddy wasn't out running errands, or, what would have been even more unfortunate, on a wayfaring expedition. Wayfarers were transient by nature, so there had been a good chance Maddy would've been gone. Delta didn't know any other mages that had a chance of fitting into their team's dynamic, so Delta considered it a blessing the illusionist hadn't set off.

Besides accommodations, and serving as a place to throw together wayfaring parties, the training hall was the most useful—and widely used—facility in the sprawling guild structure. Testing one's skills out in the wild was … a poor idea, to put it lightly, unless someone was seeking a fast path to a shallow grave. Delta had spent long hours here, honing her abilities. She knew her way around, even through the sections she used less frequently.

The mages had their own section of the training hall. 'The Oasis', people called it, and for understandable reasons—it was a place to rest, and a more crucial one for mages than anyone else. A physical fighter, like Delta, might be able to train herself into the ground, needing a stamina potion or two if she was pushing herself, but a mage? A mage could deplete their mana in a matter of minutes. So, a solution: the Oasis.

Or, rather, the obelisk at the center of the Oasis, the tall black pillar that pulsed out waves of energy, even to Delta's poorly-tuned magical senses. The waves provided a mana regeneration effect, she knew, not that it affected her, considering her lack of mana. Most classes didn't have mana. Mage-type or mage-aligned classes weren't so rare they were a surprise to find, but still not common. One in ten? Maybe less.

Delta didn't want to guess how expensive the artifact was. Sixteen feet tall—reaching up almost to the top of the vaulted, circular Oasis—and every square inch covered with intricate sigils, designed and hand-carved through a collaborative effort of mages and artificers, the object had to be the guild's single most valuable investment.

Not all guilds had them. Only the biggest, or wealthiest, as found in a pseudo-capital city like Treyhull … not that the Fractures were organized enough to have 'capitals'. Sure, there were clear territory lines, carving the known pocket-dimensions into Deepshunter or Strider territory, and less frequently Sovereign or other polities, but 'countries', or 'provinces'? Not exactly.

But not cheap. That was the point. The tall black pillar cost more than Delta would make her entire life, even assuming a successful career. Enough to fix all Delta's problems up in Haven, if she could pawn it, however silly a thought like that was.

Like usual, she didn't let her thoughts linger on that topic … on Dad's condition. Delta was doing what she could to scrape together funds, and stewing just put her in a bad mood. Rushing would get her killed, and then Dad would have no solution.

The Oasis's obelisk had a centralized effect, not radiating much further than the circular room's walls. Because of that, the training rooms—public or private—branched off the Oasis, making the mage's section of the training facility easy to search.

Not that Delta searched it. The receptionist for the Oasis pointed Delta Maddy's way. The mage section of the guild's training facility required payment and sign-ins, costing a lot more to run than the fighter's section by orders of magnitude. Being a mage in general was more inconvenient than being a fighter. More expensive, harder to find equipment, harder to find sparring partners and teachers. Things that were a difficulty for any wayfarer, but much more so for mages.

Delta didn't interrupt Maddy, not right away. Most of the training rooms had glass windows, so before Delta walked in or grabbed her attention, she crossed her arms and observed the girl she'd shortly be offering to join their team … or barring that, at least paying to catch Zoey up to speed.

Mages were always fun to watch. Well, besides total amateurs … like Zoey, who had barely figured spellcasting out. Sure, Zoey's class by itself made her a valuable teammate—most noticeably her rune-advancing skill—but her actual combat abilities, both physical and magical, were lacking. She could throw an ice-spike, but that was it. Not much flair to enjoy.

Maddy, though. Maddy was a mage through-and-through. She and Delta weren't close friends, but they'd shared more than a few conversations, so they knew each other to some degree. Maddy came from a long, sprawling line of mages. Magework was in her blood.

Classes weren't hereditary—or not strictly. It was possible for a mage to come from a long line of fighters, or the reverse. But lineage undoubtedly influenced a person's class. Or maybe their upbringing, and not so much their bloodline. Being groomed by a family of mages simply made it more likely to get a similar class yourself.

But Maddy's pedigree showed. She was fascinating to spectate. She might not be as flashy as, say, an elementalist, or another purely combat-oriented mage, but her skills were on plain display.

She wielded a long staff of white wood, bulbous and knotted at the top. A large, circular glyph floated in front of its outstretched length, thick white lines imprinted onto the air, humming with energy. Three rings. Delta was hardly an expert with magic, but she knew the number of rings indicated the potency of a spell. Shorthand was, 'a third-circle spell', where 'circle' was a close equivalent for spell strength. It lined up fairly close to advancements. A third-advancement mage could usually only cast up to a third-circle spell.

From the glyph, a stream of white darts flew in a steady hailstorm, slamming into the far wall, being eaten by the magic-absorbing apparatus inlaid there … another reason the mage hall was so much more expensive to maintain. It took a lot of specialized equipment to keep the structure from crumbling, or magic going stray.

The darts weren't physically damaging, as Zoey's ice shards were. Rather, something ten times more annoying … they were mentally damaging. They inflicted confusion, growing more intense by each successive impact. Maddy had some control over the types of delusions that would spring up, but only if she wanted to.

Most of the time, Maddy had told her, letting the spell 'figure itself out' was the best course of action. Why waste the mental overhead? By Maddy's furrowed brow, and focused expression, getting a steady stream of the confusion-bolts required enough of her attention. And this was a controlled environment, somewhere Maddy didn't need to worry over an opponent's attacks, and defending herself … much less a real fight, where the threat of death or injury loomed.

Delta had sparred with Maddy a few times. She was hands down one of the most aggravating combatants Delta had fought. Fighting Maddy—or any competent illusionist, she assumed—wasn't a matter of keen reflexes and effective strategy, or even dodging and deflecting their spells.

It was … Delta didn't even know. Not letting her brain get scooped out by Maddy's mind-warping powerset. Fighting against Maddy was, to be completely honest, a bit unnerving. Her whole class revolved around warping perceptions and destabilizing the minds of her opponent … however sweet and bubbly she was personality-wise, her skills were kind of fucked up. Delta would rather fight anyone else. A person's mind was supposed to be a sanctum. Inviolable. Having it turned to mush—even temporarily—was unsettling.

As for Maddy. She was dressed in long, flowing gray robes, which clung surprisingly tight to her curves—some equipment drop she'd found in a recent delve. Before the gray robes, it'd been white ones. Delta thought the previous had looked better … though she appreciated the gray ones for the snug fit. But aesthetics hardly mattered when it came to equipment. Maddy, as most competent delvers, cared more about function than flair.

Maddy's most distinguishing trait was her bright blue hair, though it was covered by her wide, droopy hat, with only bits of the neon showing. Dyed hair wasn't uncommon down in the Fractures, but it wasn't especially normal, either. Enough to stick out in a crowd, if only briefly. Apparently the bright hair was something her entire family did, even the older members in her family. The idea of a withered grandma with bright pink hair amused Delta. She'd like to meet Maddy's family, someday.

Maddy looked younger than she was. She had soft cheeks and bright eyes, and her exuberant attitude didn't lend itself toward an image of maturity, either. Maddy had been down in the Fractures for more than a year, now—so, nineteen—and was third advancement, approaching fourth. Which was a great pace, though not as incredible as Blondie's. Probably the same pace Delta could've expected. Thing was, 'pace' in sheer time since entering the Fractures was a weird metric to go by. If you threw yourself at shards twenty-four-seven, then yeah, you'd advance pretty quick. But that'd get most people killed.

It took training—more and more—as you advanced your runes, learning the intricacies to your class … or finding useful teammates, or whatever else. Throwing yourself into the fray with no breaks had an obvious result, most of the time. That was what these training halls were for. Learning your class's perplexing abilities in a safe environment, rather than in the middle of a hostile shard that was doing its best to kill you.

Plus, besides the most eager wayfarers, people wanted to take a load off between shards, or at least every few shards. Delta was more motivated than most, but even she didn't set a pace like Rosalie. Her blonde teammate had a certain madness reserved for families who did this for a living … who lived and breathed advancement. Old bloods. Generational wayfarers. Delta would like to … you know, live life, here and there.

The last bit of Delta's appraisal was the least appropriate. After the events of the past two days, how couldn't Delta's mind be wandering more perverted than usual? Not that Delta hadn't checked out Maddy before. Just, she did so with a little more interest, this time.

Despite wearing long robes, they were tight-clinging, showing off Maddy's body. She didn't have much up top. Or, anything at all, really. She didn't have a boyish figure besides that, with wide hips and a butt that, while hidden by the robes, Delta had appreciated on several occasions. She had a cute face, too, though pinched in concentration, and blasting out dangerous magic in a flurry, the aura of 'wide-eyed and innocent' was lost, somewhat. Still, cute.

Delta hadn't hooked up with her, but that'd been more out of professional preservation than a lack of interest. Better to not roll around in bed with potential teammates. Could lead to unfortunate complications.

Which was ironic, she was entirely aware. But Zoey's class obviously prevented Delta from holding to that precautionary measure. And, the shards they delved. Sex was part-and-parcel for wayfaring with Zoey. Which Delta still was somewhat concerned by—sex could lead to messy emotions, and messy emotions broke teams apart all the time.

Delta'd mostly determined not to fall for Zoey. Unfortunately, she was finding out she liked the tall, dark-haired girl with such a bizarre class and background. And … from what she'd seen, she really knew how to handle that equipment between her legs. Delta'd only been with Zoey while in Zoey's body, but either way, she could get used to rolling around with her. What would it be like, without the body-swap shenanigans? With Zoey wielding her own equipment?

She chased those thoughts away.

Eventually, the energy sagged out of Maddy's shoulders, and her staff drooped. The spell broke. Then, as if Maddy had felt Delta's attention crawling over her, she turned and faced the window, frowning.

Maddy blinked, then a grin split her face. It was impossible for Delta not to return it. Maddy's bubbly attitude was infectious.

"Delta!"

The response was muffled through the glass, but Delta waved. She walked to the training room's door and opened it; Maddy met her there.

"You're back!" Maddy said. "How'd it go?"

There was a sheen of sweat on Maddy's forehead. She'd really been going at it, pushing herself to her limit. Spells weren't exhausting in the same way as physical effort, but it worked up a sweat, for whatever reason. And whether physical or not, intense spellcasting took a lot out of a person. Something a mana-potion only half-fixed.

"Got all my arms and legs, still," Delta said. "So, pretty good, all things considered."

"Find anything useful?"

Delta paused. Loot was always on the forefront of a wayfarer's mind, at least in terms of a 'good delve'. Maybe someone like Blondie disrespected what a good set of gear could accomplish, or sufficient funds for supplies, but most people weren't snobbish elitists … and blinded by their ego.

Maybe that was too harsh of a way to put it. But Blondie's insistence that armor and weapons didn't matter was a bit bizarre to Delta. Of course they did. Rosalie just had a chip on her shoulder, and needed to come off as better than everyone else. Maybe reasonable, considering her upbringing … not that Delta knew the specifics. But she could guess. And, reasonable or not, it was annoying. Even if not for the stat boosts, and defense and offense potential, a good haul was useful for money. Not something everyone in the world could be totally unconcerned with.

But Maddy's question. Good haul? Uh, yeah, kind of. Not in the traditional sense. Did a mirror that let her swap bodies count as a 'good haul'? Delta was ecstatic about it, because getting to pilot Zoey's body a second time was something she was looking forward to, but she didn't think it was the most useful combat equipment.

Not a 'good haul' like Maddy meant.

"Eh, a few things," Delta said, which was honest; some of the items they'd earned had combat uses. "Pretty good, for a half-day delve. Nothing crazy." Some shards could take full days or—rarely—weeks to work through. The one from yesterday had been short. "I'm surprised you haven't set off. Was half expecting you to be gone."

"Maybe soon," Maybe said cheerfully. "Have something in the works." She leaned against her staff and smiled up at Delta. "I'm not being lazy, it's just hard to find a good team."

"You've got something in the works?"

Maddy hesitated, confused by Delta's reaction. She'd expected Delta to be happy for her, but instead, Delta had replied with a frown. Because it messed with Delta's plans, if Maddy had a potential team setting up.

"Yeah?" Maddy said. "Why? That's bad?"

"Mm," Delta said. "Yeah, maybe. I was hoping we could talk business."

"Business! I thought you didn't want to team up?"

Delta preferred smaller teams in general; groups of two or three. She and Maddy hadn't teamed, despite being casual friends, because their roles overlapped—at least when it came to small parties. The standard trio was tank, damage, healer, or some closely-related variation of such. So the cards had never fallen in a way she and Maddy could adventure together. They'd been sparring—and sometimes drinking—partners.

"Well," Delta said. "It's complicated. You got a moment?"

"Sure. Have to recharge, anyway. To the Oasis!"

Chapter 56

Chapter Text

"So," Delta said. "I've got a business proposal for you."

Maddy had leaned her staff against the wall and sat at on one of the Oasis's benches, next to Delta. She basked in the mana regeneration effect, looking less fatigued by the second. Her hat was also off, now, with her bright blue hair on full display. It was short, straight, and well-maintained, unruffled by the hat she'd been wearing. It went down to her shoulders. She had warm gray eyes. Paired with her hair, and build, she'd always been a distinctive-looking girl.

"Business proposal?" Maddy asked, amused. "You're trying to put a team together. No need to phrase it like that."

"Well. Kind of. Like I said, it's complicated. The team part is only a maybe." Delta shook her head. "We'll get there. First, an actual business proposal, not a team invite. That squad I joined—one of them is a mage."

Maddy blinked. "Okay. What role?"

"Aegis?" Delta wrinkled her nose. "Actually, as the dynamic stands, she's more of a booster. But she has the potential to be an aegis. Her support skills are innate, so she has no problem getting those out, but her spellcasting abilities, the ones linked to her arcana rune, are … lacking."

"Okay … ?" Maddy said. She didn't see where Delta was going with this.

"We're looking for a teacher. Someone we can trust. Who has a bit of discretion. Er, a whole heaping of discretion."

"A whole heaping?"

"It's weird. A bit of an explanation." Delta chewed her lip, looking around the Oasis. There were plenty of other mages seated on nearby benches, recovering from their mana expenditures. "Hey, can you do that thing with the sound bubble?"

"Uh. Sure?"

She traced her finger in the air, imprinting a fist-sized arcane diagram of complex white lines in the air. A second later, it fizzled, and all outside noises disappeared. Nobody could hear what they were saying, now.

"Man. That's seriously so useful."

"It better be! Took me weeks to learn. It's a tricky one." Maddy tilted her head, waiting expectantly.

Delta wasn't embarrassed about explaining Zoey's class to Maddy, but she did think it deserved a segue of sorts. Though, launching straight into it would be pretty funny … Delta fought away the impulse to do so. Much as Maddy's reaction would be more amusing that way, Delta needed to be a professional. Which she could do, when the situation called for it.

If, admittedly, only through great effort.

"What's the weirdest class you've ever heard of?" Delta asked.

Maddy blinked, adjusting to the swerve in topic. "Huh. That's a good question." Her brow furrowed down as she puzzled over it. "Oh! Mom told me about a guy who called himself a 'devourer'."

"Eh?"

"Got stronger the more he ate! Was like, four hundred pounds, Mom said. Ate monsters, even, from the various shards he worked through. That's a pretty weird class."

No kidding. He ate monsters? "That's real?"

"I mean … I think so? Mom met him, apparently, back when she still wayfared. But she could've just been making it up." Maddy shrugged. "But you asked for weird classes. Most of those are made up, I'd figure. Heck, most of everything feels made up, sometimes."

"Most of everything?" Delta was letting herself get distracted, but talking to Maddy was always interesting; she was constantly saying stuff that had Delta's head tilting. Probably what growing up with in a reclusive family of mages did. "What'd'you mean?"

"Oh, I dunno. Like, there's so many rumors floating around. People like to tell stories. Part of the human spirit." She shrugged. "Makes the truth hard to find."

"Can't argue that, I guess." Maybe normally Delta would continue down this conversation, but she tracked herself back to the matter at hand. "I'm sure you can guess why I asked."

"She has a weird class," Maddy said.

"Exactly. Uh, even weirder than what you said."

"Really?"

Delta supposed Maddy's curiosity might be a useful thing, here. Plus, she was a bit odd herself … that might help in a roundabout way. Odd things meshed, right?

"Now," Delta said, "she just needs a teacher. So you wouldn't have to do anything you didn't want to, of course. This is just a disclaimer. But, uh. Her class is sex-related. She recharges mana through … having sex with other people."

Maddy stared at her.

Delta laughed. "It makes resting between fights more interesting, I'll tell you that. If a little less … restful."

"Wait," Maddy stuttered. "You're serious?"

"Me? I'm always serious."

Maddy raised her eyebrows at that.

Delta smirked. "Okay, but this time, I am. And like I said, it's a disclaimer. Doesn't affect you." If Maddy didn't want it to, at least. But Maddy had never come off as particularly open to sex. She got awkward when Delta talked about girls. An impression that Maddy's blushing and stuttering, now, was reinforcing. "She needs a teacher, and we're willing to pay well."

"Uh," Maddy said. "Teacher … shelve that for a second. You wanted to invite me to the team, too? With her?"

Delta paused. "I mean, we're figuring that out. If you'd fit. Not to be rude. The other teammate … she's got standards. And it'd need to be a unanimous agreement."

Maddy leaned back, looking affronted. "You don't think I'm good enough?"

"She might not," Delta clarified. "I'm pretty sure I barely squeaked by. Maybe, I only made the cut because she was in a rush to get going."

"You?" Maddy seemed shocked. Delta had a reputation at Treyhull; for a second-advancement, she was pretty good.

"She's old blood," Delta said. "Maker, you'll see what I mean. But yeah. I mean, I think she'd accept you. But it's a maybe."

"Huh," Maddy said. Zoey's odd class seemed to have taken a brief back seat; Maddy, like any wayfarer, was interested in the opportunity to put together a promising party. "And she's good, as well?"

Delta paused, remembering the way her annoying blonde teammate had carved through their latest adventure, first with her bare hands, then later, when armed with a shortspear, with even more breathtaking fluidity. All while protecting Zoey, not letting a single scratch onto her until they'd reached the boss … which had been a particularly difficult fight, for a second-advancement shard.

Delta thought Rosalie was arrogant, but to say it was unfounded would be a lie. It couldn't be more founded. Which forgave it in some part … but not entirely. She had a lot of mixed feelings when it came to Rosalie. She shook the thoughts off.

"She's good," Delta said. "More than good. Pound for pound, probably the best third-advancement lancer in Treyhull." Because she was no longer second advancement—she'd progressed this morning. Delta hadn't been so lucky. To think Rosalie had been in the Fractures less than half the time Delta had, and already had hit third advancement. Zoey's rune had helped her along, having delved two shards with her compared to Delta's one … but even so. Astonishing.

Maddy leaned forward, incredulous. "Best? In Treyhull?"

It was a lofty claim for a city as big as Treyhull. But Delta believed it. "You'll see what I mean."

"Coming from you, I can trust it … but still. Really?"

Delta didn't like talking up Rosalie, so she wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, really."

"Wow." Maddy's brow scrunched down. "Sounds like you've brought a real opportunity to me."

"Comes with unusual circumstances," Delta reminded her.

Maddy paused, remembering the reveal from earlier. Zoey's 'sex class'. She colored, then coughed into a fist. "Right."

"Again, you wouldn't have to do anything you didn't want to," Delta said. "Well, sort of. She has a 'linking skill', so you'd need to … do something. But just once. Or, maybe more than once, to refresh it. But we could take care of recharging her."

Maddy's cheeks continued to color. "Wow. That really is … quite the class."

"Think on it." There were still other qualifiers to make—the lewd nature of the shards they would venture into—but Delta wanted to let Maddy digest the first half before getting into the sticky details. Plus, her joining the team was up in the air. Delta was talking to her for something else, first and foremost. "But teaching Zoey. That's separate from everything. She needs training, big time, and you're one of the best mages I know."

Maddy blushed and looked away. She'd always been easy to fluster with compliments. She fiddled with her hat. "I'm not that good. And teaching someone … that's not something I know how to do."

"We care more about being able to trust you," Delta said. "We don't want the details to her class leaking."

"Why?"

"She's strong. And easy to exploit. It's the reason the old blood paired up with her. Er … the first part, I mean. Her being strong."

Though, being easy to exploit … Rosalie knew that, too, and maybe it was one of the reasons she was sticking with Zoey. Just, not to exploit her, but to protect her. It didn't sit wholly right with Delta how cold and logical Rosalie's decision-making process was, but Delta could tell she was conflicted … that Zoey's wellbeing wasn't wholly a non-factor. Just that Rosalie wished it could be. That she could be heartless.

That girl was a mess.

"Huh," Maddy said. "Well, I'll keep it a secret, then. Of course."

"Thanks." Delta wholeheartedly believed she would. First, because she hadn't a clue just how powerful Zoey's runes were—that they accelerated bonded target's own advancements—and because that was just who Maddy was. Or, seemed to be. Appearances could be deceiving. Maybe an amusing thought to have, when applied to an illusionist. But they needed a teacher, and Maddy was their best shot. "So you'll do it?"

"Well," Maddy said. "Let's talk details. Pay. Life as a mage isn't cheap, you know."

A few hours later, after running errands, Delta found Zoey in the guild's central hall, as they'd agreed to previously. Blondie hadn't returned; she was still out and about, doing … whatever she was doing. She hadn't specified. To be fair, she had no obligation to. Her business was her own; their discussions had been over team tasks, only.

Besides Zoey. Zoey'd spelled out her personal plans pretty in depth. But she was a more open book than Rosalie.

Even if Delta knew there were some suspicious things going on with her. She believed Zoey had memory problems. But something was off, despite that. The way she spoke. Her ignorance in certain places. Her reactions to certain things.

The reflection's commentary on Zoey's 'secrets', the most glaring red flag. Same for Rosalie … but of course the old blood had secrets. Zoey's were the ones that were more intriguing.

As she said, though. Everyone's business was their own.

"Hey," Delta said, slipping into a chair opposite Zoey. "What'cha reading?"

Zoey blinked and looked up; she'd been lost in the thick tome, poring over it while chewing her lip.

She plucked a bookmark out of her inventory and tucked it between the pages, then closed the book and showed Delta the title.

'The Alchemical Laboratory: Tools, Techniques, and Experimentation,' by Magistra Eliza Gold.

"Sheesh," Delta said. "You're really going for it."

"That's the goal," Zoey said. "Sabina seems confident that field-alchemy is useful in wayfaring. And I think when it comes to our shards … maybe it'll be even more so."

Delta paused as she thought about that. "Huh," she said. "Yeah, probably. Potions are convenient." If only specialized ones weren't so expensive. Sure, mana, health, and stamina were easy to come by, but anything more complicated than that could start breaking the bank.

"You find Maddy?" Zoey asked.

"Yep."

"Good news?"

"Good news," Delta said. "She'll do it. Though, her time's valuable, and she knows it … so it won't be cheap."

"Didn't think it'd be. You said she was good. Plus, dealing with the … odder aspects of my class. I get it."

"Well. It's not like she'll be dealing with them. We're the ones that'll keep you topped off."

"Yeah, but even knowing it's happening has to be awkward. Halfway through our lesson, I'll need to go 'take a break'. It's weird."

"It's pretty weird," Delta agreed. "And … Maddy's not …" How did she put it? "Well, she's going to blush a lot. She's not me."

"Thank god. I don't think I could handle a second you."

There it was again. 'Thank god'. Singular. So weird.

Delta rolled her eyes. "Wow. Should I be offended?"

"Well," Zoey said, laughing. "One's great. Just … two. Sheesh."

Delta gave her an amused look, masking the way her heart skipped. 'One's great'. It was barely even flirting. Why did it make her stomach flutter?

Ugh. Delta wasn't falling for her teammate. It would make things way too complicated. Especially with Blondie in the mix, who was nauseatingly head-over-heels … and in her own mess of confusion, seeing how romance was supposed to be the last thing on her plate, considering her stated priorities.

"Anyway, she'll be ready for you tomorrow morning," Delta said. "Second bell. You're paying for the private training room, too."

"I can afford it?"

"Sure," Delta said. "Just, it's gonna be a big chunk of change. Might have to beg your girlfriend for a loan."

"What if I beg you, instead?"

"You plow some good dick, Zoey, but not that good."

"Really?"

Delta shrugged.

"Also, not that good?" Zoey asked. "I'm offended."

"Maybe seeing's different from feeling," Delta smirked. She'd been with Zoey, but hadn't had Zoey inside her, yet. The opposite, actually—she'd been in Zoey, with Zoey's own cock. Which had been pretty mind-blowing. "But I'm a hard girl to impress."

It was just taunting, and Zoey knew it. Delta wasn't so rude as to insult her ability in bed and mean it. Just, teasing was fun. And she liked to keep her partners on their toes. When time came the two of them were together in a more traditional matter—without being in opposite bodies—she wanted Zoey to work for it. To impress Delta.

Or, next time Delta was in Zoey's body, for Zoey to work for it, too. A good fucking came with effort. Honestly, that was a big part of the appeal, for Delta. Seeing her partner trying their best to make her squirm.

Er, her thoughts were straying.

"Also," Delta said. "I want you to pay up, tonight. Check this out." Reaching into her inventory, she pulled out the fruit of today's errand-running. She slapped down a harness made from black leather.

Zoey blinked at it, not recognizing the object.

"For mounting the linking plate," Delta grinned. "Had it rush-ordered. She made it on the spot. Not for cheap, too … but I couldn't wait."

Zoey paused, understanding hitting her. "Ah. Tonight? Already?"

"I'm taking her out for a ride," Delta confirmed, smirking. "Hope you and Blondie didn't have plans."

"Why so quick?" Zoey asked.

She was growing flustered. Delta's grin widened at that. The idea of Delta using Zoey's cock to fuck other girls wasn't just something that appealed to Delta, however much Zoey was pretending to play it cool.

"Because it sounds fucking hot," Delta said. "That's why."

Zoey rolled her eyes. Still trying to play it cool. "Well. A deal's a deal, I guess."

"It sure is."

The question was, what exactly did Delta want to do with it?

Chapter 57

Chapter Text

"Holy crap," Adrienne said. "You weren't kidding. It does look real."

Delta, Adrienne, and Suzi admired Zoey's cock, a second ago set down onto the booth's table. It was drooped over, soft, with Zoey's cock head pressed into the cool wood. Zoey had been getting sporadically hard throughout the past few hours, ever since Delta had left her in the guild's central hall to study her alchemy textbook, but less frequently as time passed and Delta didn't play with her.

By the way her cock had been jostling around in her purse (something hilarious to Delta, for a reason she couldn't fully articulate), she knew Delta was out and about … but she couldn't know when the action would start. And she couldn't know that it finally had; that in this moment, her cock was being admired by three girls in the dark corner of a bar. So, she stayed soft.

Probably not for long.

"Feels real, too," Delta said. "And reacts. Go ahead. Poke it. Watch what happens."

Delta and her two partners were seated in the corner of the bar, in a booth. A mix of chatter and laughter filled the air, growing slowly more raucous as the night stumbled along. Music played in the background, providing an energetic but not chaotic atmosphere.

Adrienne, the girl whose shoulder Delta had her arm draped across, had cozied up to her with surprising speed. Delta didn't normally have problems finding a hook-up, but by how fast after sitting next to Delta she'd had her body pressed into hers, Adrienne was even more eager than most.

Adrienne was a gorgeous, petite girl—she'd caught Delta's eye immediately, and fortunately, the same in reverse. She had an hourglass figure with an impressive bust, wider hips, and an ass that barely fit in her jeans. The cut of her shirt dipped low, and on more than a few instances, Delta'd caught sight of a lacy black bra as Adrienne leaned forward to talk, laughing loudly and undoubtedly knowing what she was showing off. She had a heart-shaped face with a small nose and pouty lips, and her hair was a deep mahogany that curled into ringlets and framed her face. She'd dressed up for the night, intending to get lucky.

Which was par for the course, considering where Delta had ventured to. The Royal Court had a reputation. There were plenty of gay bars where socialization and meeting new people (in the more chaste sense) was the goal, but The Royal Court had an ingrained image … it was a place someone went to when they were looking for fun, first and foremost. Delta'd never come here and left empty handed. Most girls didn't, she assumed.

And, in Delta's case especially, wayfarers didn't have their work cut out for them when it came to picking up girls. While in some places in the Fractures, wayfarers were a decent portion of the population, and thus nothing special, in the 'big cities', wayfarers were the minority. Civilians flocked from Haven to places like Treyhull, looking to cater to the wealthier, adventure-seeking segment of society, in a place that was still fairly safe. Not that the Fractures were ever completely safe—even Treyhull had monster incursions, occasionally—but compared to being out in the wild or less guarded pocket dimensions, much more so.

But Delta's point: wayfarers were popular with the girls, especially in big cities. How couldn't they be? Delta had stories to tell, money, muscles, and scars. Hardly the things that mattered for a long-term relationship … and certainly weren't universally popular … but at The Royal Court, they were things that made Delta popular. Adrienne and Suzi weren't looking for meaningful life partners. They were here the same reason Delta was. To scratch an itch.

Or, not exactly the same, Delta internally smirked. She didn't think Adrienne and Suzi had ventured off with their friend's disembodied cock, intending to plow strangers with it.

Suzi, on the other hand, didn't have quite as bombastic a figure, but she had elegance: high cheekbones, and a sharp, angular face. She had intense, intelligent blue eyes, and her black dress had a somehow deeper cut than Adrienne's, dipping to her stomach. Her tits were smaller, but still perky—in no way worse than Adrienne's. She wasn't wearing a bra, and hadn't taped her dress down, either; Delta had caught a few sneak peaks, undoubtedly intentional on Suzi's part. Her legs, too, Delta appreciated. Seated, Delta couldn't see them anymore, but Suzi had long, toned legs that went on forever—which she knew, because her dress had drawn attention to them, same as her tits. Suzi knew how to show herself off.

In short, two girls Delta was very much looking forward to exploring.

As Delta had prompted her to, Adrienne tentatively reached out and poked Zoey's cock. It twitched, and Adrienne jumped. Delta supposed it was strange to see, however much Delta had warned her. Because odd shard loot wasn't the rarest thing in the world, but these two were civilians, and likely hadn't seen much in the way of 'odd'. And Delta's item in particular … not something even Delta saw everyday.

"Wow," Adrienne said. "Does it … does it get hard?"

"Find out," Delta suggested.

"And why is it so big?" Suzi asked amusedly. "Gods. Look at it."

Of the two girls who Delta had found herself seated with, Adrienne was definitely the more eager. The Royal Court might be a place girls went to find hook-ups, but that didn't mean everyone was looking to throw themselves at the first willing girl. Suzi had joined them, and was flirting and returning their advances, but she was still feeling things out. She seemed more amused than anything, as it stood. She was one or two drinks deep—the same as all of them—and was swirling her whiskey around in a glass as she watched Delta and Adrienne from across the table.

Adrienne didn't have any reservations about the 'weird shard loot' Delta had laid on the table, but Suzi, on the other hand, didn't seem quite as fascinated … at least in the lustful sense. She was definitely interested, intellectually-wise. Who wouldn't be when it came to a disembodied, living cock?

But unsurprisingly to a hook-up location intended for women who preferred women, cocks weren't guaranteed to be popular. Delta didn't have any problems with cocks—just, men in general she wasn't interested in, sexually.

Some girls, though, Delta knew, didn't like phallic things in general, much less something as true to life as the one laid on the table … which was literally real, rather than a startlingly accurate toy, as Delta had implied. She wasn't sure if Suzi fell into that camp. Her body language, at least, wasn't protesting the development—at Delta having slapped down a living and breathing cock onto the table. She just didn't have a glint of lust in her eye, like Adrienne did.

"It's still soft, and it's, what? Eight inches?" Suzi continued amusedly. "Like, what the hell."

Adrienne, taking up Delta's suggestion, rubbed two of her fingers into Zoey's shaft, trying to wake it up. "Seriously," she agreed. "It'll be bigger than my forearm, won't it?"

Adrienne was a short, petite woman, so honestly? "Yeah, probably," Delta laughed. "It's kind of a monster."

"And you just found this?" Suzi asked. "On one of your delves?"

"At the end of the shard."

The line of questioning briefly cut off, Adrienne's efforts yielding results. Zoey's cock—finally being paid attention—started to swell. Delta pressed down on the linking plate to stabilize it, so it didn't tip over as Zoey grew.

Adrienne and Suzi—and, honestly, Delta too, despite having seen it several times before—watched in fascination as Zoey's unreasonable length filled out. Her already impressive size swelled into the fourteen-inch monster Delta had learned to admire … and once wielded herself.

"Shit," Suzi said, her eyebrows raised. "It really might be. Hold your forearm up to it, Addy."

Adrienne did so.

"Fuck me," Suzi said, lips curled in amusement. She shook her head, then took a drink. "Ridiculous."

Adrienne's reaction to the sight was a little less amused. Her cheeks burned red. "Wow …" she said. "Wow."

"It's kind of a shame," Suzi said. "It's too big to fit. Makes it useless."

"Nah," Delta said. "One of the perks to the item—squeezes into places it shouldn't."

Suzi and Adrienne paused, taking that in.

"Really?" Adrienne asked.

"How would you know?" Suzi asked.

Delta smirked at the black-haired girl across from her. "You think I haven't played with it? Come on." Then, to Adrienne, "Yeah, really. It's a tight fit, but it goes in. All the way."

"All the way?" Suzi scoffed. "That thing's more than a foot. How?"

"Magic?" Then, she shot Suzi a lopsided grin. "I could prove it to you, if you want."

Suzi rolled her eyes. "That'd be rude. Addy wants to go first. Look at her squirm."

It wasn't a no, but Delta still had some work to do on Suzi, warming her up.

Adrienne didn't deny what Suzi had said. Her blushing, fascinated attention was obvious as day. "So, like, anywhere?" she asked breathlessly. "Even my mouth?"

"It's not the easiest thing," Delta said. "But yeah. Really shouldn't fit, but it does."

Delta scooted Zoey's cock from the center of the table to in front of Adrienne.

"Be my guest," Delta said. "Just be careful. Don't get her too worked up. She's a bit sloppy when she finishes."

"She?" Suzi asked amusedly.

"It's a girl cock," Delta said. "What, you can't tell?"

"You know, that's ridiculous, but I kind of agree." She appraised Zoey's cock for a second. "She's a cutie. Definitely a girl dick."

'Cutie'. Delta didn't know if she agreed … Zoey's cock had to be one of the angrier, veinier cocks that existed, not that Delta had surveyed any real ones to know for sure. But … maybe, kind of, it could be called cute. It was hard to say why, but there was a femininity to its throbbing length, if she looked for it.

Adrienne fingers wrapped around the base of Zoey's cock, which made Delta's heart jump in sympathy. Like before, when fucking Fe, seeing Zoey's cock played with had Delta's heart hammering in excitement. Delta was into a lot of things, but voyeurism—seeing her friends get pleasured—hadn't been especially high on the list. For some reason, with Zoey, it was.

Adrienne eyed the cock apprehensively. "I just don't see how."

"Magic," Suzi repeated. "Does it matter? Test it."

Delta grinned at her. Suzi was visibly anticipating the show Adrienne was about to put on. She was leaned back in the booth, one arm thrown over the low-backed edge, and as seemingly relaxed as ever, but there was a glint in her eyes that gave her away. She saw Delta grinning knowingly at her, paused, then rolled her eyes, adjusting in the seat and forcing her nonchalance back.

Yeah, Delta thought. Suzi wasn't as ready-to-go as Adrienne, but she would definitely be coming back with Delta, tonight.

Or maybe not even 'coming back'. Delta might not want to wait that long. Fucking in the bathrooms was against bar policy, and might have them thrown out, but Delta'd never been much of a rule follower. And it beat doing it out in the alleyway … that was definitely the worse of the two. She'd rather start problems with The Royal Court's staff than Treyhull's guards—and maybe catch a charge for public indecency.

The bar's policies were pretty lose, anyway. As demonstrated by how Delta had a giant dildo laid out on her table, and nobody was saying anything. Honestly, there was worse happening in some of the other booths. Policy was, just don't make it too loud or obvious.

Like fucking in the bathroom. In the very loud, very obvious way Delta intended. But, ah, well, it was unavoidable.

"Okay, then," Adrienne murmured, eying Zoey's cock. "Fits anywhere, even my mouth. Let's find out."

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Adrienne placed a soft kiss on Zoey's dick, and it twitched in excitement. She made a noise of surprise then glanced sideways at Delta, grinning, as if proud of what she'd made happen.

"It's so real," she repeated. "It liked that." She turned back forward, then licked just beneath the cock head's edge, tracing up the ridge, then to the tip, cleaning the bead of precum that had sprung up. She ran her tongue around inside her mouth, tasting the slick substance, then said, "And tastes real, too."

"You're taking your time with this, aren't you?" Suzi asked dryly. "We're gonna be here all night."

Again, Delta was amused at Suzi's impatience, however poorly she was pretending to not be interested. The reality—that she wanted to see Adrienne choking on Zoey's cock—was plain as day.

To be fair, Delta wanted that too; and she was impatient, too. It was time to encourage the auburn-haired girl. The hand Delta had had wrapped around Adrienne's shoulders pulled away, and ventured up, to the back of Adrienne's head. She pushed gently, but insistently, forward. Adrienne smirked and rolled her eyes, but let herself be guided forward.

Her pouty lips enveloped Zoey's cock head. A pink tongue stuck out as she tried to make room. Zoey's nearly fist-sized girth barely fit in her mouth.

Adrienne got Zoey's tip, and a few inches, into her mouth, then she pulled back and laughed. A string of saliva trailed between her lips and Zoey's cock, before quickly breaking. Adrienne licked her lips clean then said, "There's no way. It's too big."

"That's quitter talk," Delta said. "And you haven't even tried." She continued to urge Adrienne's head down.

"You've done it before?" Adrienne asked.

Delta paused, remembering exactly how she'd had Zoey's cock in her mouth, before. It hadn't been Zoey. It'd been Delta sucking her own cock, when she'd been in Zoey's body.

She coughed, cheeks coloring. "Er, yeah. I have. Really, it's not that hard."

Suzi raised her eyebrows at Delta's reaction. "Are you blushing?"

It was an uncharacteristic reaction from how confident Delta had been throughout the night. Just, sucking her own cock … definitely one of the more degenerate things Delta had done. "Yeah," Delta said. "Can you blame me? That monster's enough to get anyone flustered." She tossed Suzi a roguish grin.

Suzi bought Delta's excuse. To be fair, she wasn't especially interested in Delta, at the moment. Adrienne had leaned forward for her second attempt at swallowing Zoey's cock.

And, it wasn't an excuse. Delta was getting heated. In fact, she wanted to start heating Adrienne up, too. She knew how to get started on that.

Before Adrienne's lips pressed back into Zoey's cock, Delta pulled Adrienne onto her lap. Adrienne squeaked at the ease Delta handled her. There were benefits to being a wayfarer: namely, increased strength. It was a recurring trait her partners loved—how easily Delta could toss them around.

Having a seat in the form of Delta's lap helped Adrienne out in a more practical sense, too. Sticking fourteen inches up, Zoey's cock was actually a bit inconvenient to try to suck. Though, that hadn't been the reason Delta'd pulled Adrienne onto her lap. She'd just wanted the other girl's ass pressed into her. And for better leverage to play with. Delta was a simple girl.

Delta rubbed a hand inside Adrienne's thigh, and the auburn-haired girl shivered. "If you do a good job," Delta murmured into her ear. "I'll make sure to reward you." Her hand ventured higher, brushing between her legs.

"Well," Adrienne said breathlessly. "Then I guess I better get to it."

Suzi's vaguely amused expression was still there, but her cheeks had reddened. She couldn't see beneath the table, at how Delta's hand was rubbing against Adrienne's thigh, and teasing between her legs, but she knew. Delta's intent wasn't exactly subdued.

"Spit on it," Delta suggested. "Lubricant. It's easier if you go down all at once, not bit by bit."

"Speaking from experience?" Suzi smirked.

"Already said so, didn't I?" Delta was always amused when other girls thought they could fluster her by teasing. Delta wasn't easy to embarrass. "And, yeah, it's big enough to bend my throat out … so there's no shame in doing some prep work, first."

Suzi cheek's colored, the loser of the verbal spar; Delta's shamelessness tended to have that effect.

Adrienne spat into her palm and worked her spit into Zoey's cock. Delta did the same; there was a lot of surface area to cover. "All at once," Adrienne repeated, steeling herself. "Here I go."

Her mouth wrapped around Zoey's cock, and Delta helped her along—she pushed the back of Adrienne's head down. She waited for it to slide into her throat before she got forceful. Adrienne made a choking noise as she was manhandled down, as fourteen inches of Zoey's girl dick stuffed her throat.

Her lips pressed into the base of the linking plate.

"Holy shit," Suzi said. She leaned forward to get a better view of Adrienne. "You weren't kidding. Look at her throat."

Like usual, the outline of Zoey's cock was clearly visible. How couldn't it be? It was a nearly fist-sized object stuffed down a tight hole. And Adrienne was pretty petite, so it was even more obvious.

Adrienne made another choking noise, but Delta's hand stayed firmly on the back of her head. She wasn't trying to pull back; Delta wouldn't be that forceful. Just encouraging her … not that Adrienne even needed it. The girl had something to prove.

Delta rubbed her free hand between Adrienne's legs as reward. "Good girl," she said. "Told you it wasn't that bad."

Another choking noise, and Adrienne rubbed her ass on Delta's lap, also squirming against her hand.

"What's it feel like?" Suzi asked, the subdued pink on her cheeks having deepened to a visible red.

Adrienne pulled up and off Zoey's cock. She launched into a coughing fit. The noise pulled looks from other patrons. Delta grinned at them, which got a mixture of reactions—rolled eyes, or vague annoyance. Delta had sat them in the corner of the bar, secluded, but it was still a public space.

For that matter, The Royal Court's policy might be lax, but Delta was pushing the boundaries on what was acceptable.

"How about we take this somewhere private?" Delta asked. Adrienne was obviously a yes, but Suzi hadn't been as quick to warm up … though that was changing. To sweeten the pot—and show what Delta's real plans for the night were—she pulled out and slapped down the leather harness she had commissioned. "I had this made. I was thinking you two could help me test it out."

Delta didn't need to explain. The two girls looked at it, quickly piecing together the harness's use.

"You are, are you?" Suzi asked, quirking her eyebrow. "Taking, or giving?"

Delta paused. Giving, obviously, but honestly? She wouldn't mind taking. Having Zoey's cock stuffing her would be almost as amazing as getting to use it on others. But, that wasn't how her first time with Zoey was going to go. Delta wasn't some sappy romantic, but if Zoey's cock was going to be inside her, then it'd happen when Zoey could pin her down and slap her hips into Delta—not someone else doing so, through proxy.

"Giving," Delta said. "It'll be a good time." A grin. "Wayfaring's given me pretty good stamina … and I can prove it."

"Where to?" Adrienne breathed. Delta was still rubbing tight circles between her legs, over her pants. Her hips were squirming back and forth, and she'd started to pant. Delta's other hand quested up her shirt and starting playing with her tits.

Suzi watched Delta play with the girl on her lap, blush continuing to deepen—though the composure on her expression, and in her voice, remained steady. "Mm," she said. "I suppose I wouldn't mind putting the claim to the test. I've got nothing else going on."

Delta grinned. "We could head back to my place … but I don't really wanna wait. Bathroom?"

Suzi slid out of the booth, scooping up her purse. "If you're gonna fuck a girl in a public bathroom, you better do a good job." Her hips swayed as she sauntered away, headed for the clearly marked facilities.

Delta scooted to the side, tugging Adrienne along with her. She scooped up Zoey's cock, her purse, and the harness, and the two of them set off after Suzi.

Delta politely ignored the sounds coming from the third stall down—and the fact there were two pairs of feet beneath the gap, facing each other.

They took the one at the far end, furthest from the entrance. It was larger than most, but still a bit cramped. Fucking in the bathrooms … definitely not the most romantic, or clean, place to do it, but the three of them were too impatient for anything else. And, hardly the first time, for Delta.

Their purses went in various places—two on hooks, one on the shelf above the toilet. Delta pulled a towel out of her inventory and laid it on the floor. She set the harness, and Zoey's cock, on it as she frantically started peeling off her clothing.

"Put your shit on the towel," Delta said. She was frantic to get going, but some sort of cleanliness was in order.

Suzi and Adrienne didn't hear her. Suzi had pinned Adrienne against a wall. They recognized Delta needed time to get the harness set-up together, so had occupied themselves.

Delta shrugged and got to work. She stole glances at them as she undressed, then went about the process of setting up the harness. Suzi was kissing Adrienne frantically, loudly, as the two struggled Adrienne out of her jeans. They'd kicked off their shoes. They weren't being very efficient with things; their attentions were on each other's mouths, and Delta had gotten Zoey's cock attached to the harness, and the harness situated around her pelvis, before Suzi had even managed to get Adrienne fully naked—only her lower half.

Delta looked down at the weighty cock between her legs, mounted by black leather straps. It glistened in the light, wet from Adrienne's mouth. Then, she looked up at the two girls pressed into the corner of the stall, tongue-fucking each other.

Yeah. Delta was going to enjoy this.

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Delta wrapped her arms around Suzi's waist, pressing their bodies close—which had Zoey's cock pressing against Suzi's butt and lower back through her dress, and against Delta's own stomach. Delta cupped Suzi's tits and squeezed, extracting a breath of surprise. Suzi had been so engaged with Adrienne that she hadn't seen Delta coming.

Suzi pulled back and turned, panting. Delta stepped away and displayed the fruit of her commission.

Adrienne and Suzi drank in the sight of Delta, who'd stripped herself naked—Adrienne was only half so, from the waist down, because the two other girls had been distracted with each other, failing their efforts to undress.

Rather than admiring that sight of a flushed, half-naked Adrienne, though, Delta basked in the lustful gazes of her partners.

She'd always loved how confident it made her feel, having other girls' eyes crawling across her tits, stomach, legs. Especially her chest; that was where she got the most attention. She had a lot up top. Was it arrogant to bask in their admiration? Probably. But Delta wasn't bashful.

Plus, the cockiness did a lot for her partners, she knew. Delta smirked at them as they scoured her body with their eyes. She had her shoulders pulled back, her chest out, and she gripped her cock—Zoey's cock, but it was hers now—and wiggled it up and down. Their eyes fell lower, to the impressive slab of meat, attention drawn by the movement.

"Fuck me," Suzi said. "Why does it look even bigger?"

Adrienne dropped down on her knees and shuffled up. Delta slapped her cock down on top of her face, happy to meet Adrienne's enthusiasm. Adrienne reached up to grab it. Delta was torn between being disappointed Adrienne's shirt and bra wasn't off, and liking it—because the half-dressed look did have a certain eroticism to it that nakedness didn't. But she also wanted to see Adrienne's tits.

Either way, Adrienne had gotten to things, and Delta couldn't help herself. She pulled her hips back and forth, rubbing her cock against Adrienne's face. Adrienne stroked up and down, too. Fuck, the eagerness was seriously doing something for Delta. It wasn't her cock, not literally, but she could swear the motion was sending tingles up Delta's spine, that she could feel the press of her cock against Adrienne's face.

"Such a big fucking cock," Adrienne said, staring up with pouting eyes at Delta. "You're going to fuck me silly, right? Throw me around? Slap me and call me your whore?"

Well, Adrienne certainly didn't have a problem making it clear what she wanted. Also, great news. Delta loved being rough. Problem was, not everyone liked it in return … and she sometimes assumed they did. Delta always felt like an ass when that happened—as she should.

Delta squeezed Adrienne's chin, roughly, bunching up her cheeks. She shook her head side to side, bouncing her auburn hair. "That depends if my little cock slave makes me happy. Will she?" Delta continued to rub her cock up and down Adrienne's face.

She nodded rapidly. She pulled back and opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out. "Please. Your cock slave wants her throat fucked. Make her choke on it. She doesn't need air, she needs cock."

With a preface like that, Delta could hardly say no. She lined herself up, and Adrienne eagerly pushed her head forward onto Delta's cock.

And … fuck … what the hell? She could swear she felt Adrienne's mouth close around Zoey's cock—the wet, hot, sucking pressure as she caressed Zoey's tip with her tongue. Delta groaned and threw her head back, burying fingers into Adrienne's hair and urging her forward.

Delta's cock slid into Adrienne's throat, and suddenly, Delta was certain she wasn't imagining things. The pressure of the tight hole wrapped around Delta's cock was way, way too real—and crystallizing in sensation by the moment.

What the hell? Hadn't they had this item inspected? Shouldn't they know if there were … other, unstated side effects? It'd been a rush order, so maybe that was why? Maybe she'd missed something obscure in the rush, Fe only checking for dangerous effects?

Whatever was happening, Delta didn't particularly give a fuck. Her cock was being swallowed by an eager girl, and Delta felt every wet sensation, every squeeze and contraction of her throat as she choked on Delta's impressive size. Delta shoved Adrienne the rest of the way, groaning, then started bucking her hips.

"Here's your fucking cock. Choke on it. You like having your fuck-hole stuffed? You like swallowing my fat girl dick?"

Adrienne replied in the form of squelching, gagging noises. Spit dripped from her chin as Delta violently used her. Her eyes were darkened with lust. Delta picked up speed, becoming even rougher.

Suzi squatted behind Adrienne and wrapped her arms around her waist. One hand dipped between Adrienne's legs and started rubbing. Suzi only had eyes for Delta, though, despite how she was playing with the other girl. Now, Delta had two bright pairs of eyes staring up at her as she worked her cock in and out of Adrienne's throat.

The sensation wasn't quite as intense as when she'd been in Zoey's body. Whatever the linking plate was doing, it was giving an echo—not the full image. But Delta had been excited just to use Zoey's cock … any sensation at all was a huge bonus.

Also, was it the same as what Zoey was feeling? Could she tell how close Zoey was getting? Or would their orgasms be separate? Probably together, if she had to guess?

Adrienne's eyes started to flutter, and Delta realized, in a flash of lust and concern, that she wouldn't ask Delta to stop. That she would, quite literally, choke on Delta's cock before patting Delta's thighs to tell her she needed air.

Reluctantly, Delta pulled out of Adrienne's mouth. Adrienne gasped in oxygen.

"You're a good actor," Suzi said to Delta. "Those are some … impressive noises you're making."

Delta's grunts of pleasure, having her cock pleasured by Adrienne's throat. Did Delta explain the development? She chose not to.

"Your turn," Delta said instead, guiding her cock to Suzi's mouth.

Adrienne didn't complain; she peeled away from Suzi's embrace and scooted forward. She buried her face underneath Delta's cock, gripping Delta's ass for leverage. Her tongue stroked at Delta's other part, and Delta shivered at the unexpected sensation.

Suzi's mouth opened up, and she leaned forward, taking Delta in her mouth.

And so, Delta had two tongues playing with her—in two different sensitive areas. How was that fair?

And how did she get so lucky?

Delta rocked her hips back and forth, sliding her pussy against Adrienne's tongue, and her cock against the soft insides of Suzi's cheeks. Suzi hadn't jumped straight to taking Delta in her throat; she was still the more apprehensive of the two girls. And while Delta wanted to be rough with her, like she had Adrienne, Suzi had made no such request.

So Delta curled her fingers into Suzi's hair and played with the tresses, slowly urging her—more gently, but still urging—to go deeper.

Suzi pulled back, took a breath, and Delta read her intention: when her mouth rejoined, Delta helped get her down. She watched Suzi's throat bend outward, and savored in the choking noise she made. Delta reached down and pulled open Suzi's dress, taking a peak down the window. She wasn't wearing a bra, which Delta had already known. Two hard nipples stood at attention … and tits were always amazing, but somehow, the angle, looking down Suzi's dress, shaped them in an even more perfect way.

Delta gasped, and her back arched. Adrienne's tongue had slipped inside, finally stopping its teasing strokes. Seriously, how was she supposed to hold off when attacked from two directions at once? Delta couldn't come too fast. She had a reputation to maintain.

Delta pulled out of Suzi's mouth, and away from Adrienne, too. Adrienne's satisfied smirk told Delta she knew exactly why Delta had retreated, and that she knew exactly how good her skills with her tongue were.

Delta growled. If Adrienne wanted to play the brat … Delta was happy to put her in her place.

"Up."

Adrienne stood. Delta spun her around and pushed her against the stall. She bumped into it roughly, with a delighted noise of surprise.

Delta smacked her ass, hard. Flesh rippled, and the noise was obscenely loud. Adrienne's back arched, and she cried out. Delta paused, briefly, but Adrienne didn't let her hesitate:

"Is Master upset her naughty slut is too good with her tongue? Master is scared of cumming too fast?" She waggled her ass, which was already growing red from the impact of Delta's hand. "I guess Master should put her fucktoy in her place. I mean, look how she's talking back. Master isn't good at taking control, is she?"

'Master'. Not entirely Delta's thing, but honestly, Delta's thing was whatever was getting her partner off.

And, she was a bit offended. 'Not taking control'? Delta was trying not to overstep her bounds … but maybe that wasn't possible with this girl.

Delta slapped the other cheek. Adrienne cried out. Then again, on the other side, which was already red. Adrienne's back arched in pain … and equal amounts of pleasure.

Adrienne wiggled her ass. "Master still isn't—"

Delta spun her around, then slammed her back into the wall. She gripped Adrienne's throat and pinned her there, then sank her middle two fingers into her pussy—she was dripping wet, and they slid in easily. Whatever taunting words Adrienne had prepared were cut off in a cry of satisfaction.

After a few squelching thrusts of her fingers, Delta pulled out, then swatted Adrienne's tits. Adrienne cried out, again. Delta swatted a second time. Adrienne writhed in her grip, face growing red from Delta's hand on her throat.

"Fuck." The word came out choked. "Fuck me harder, Master." Adrienne's face was beet-red. Delta's hand complied with her request, and she sank her digits back into Adrienne's pussy and started thrusting. Adrienne bucked eagerly into them, squirming in her grip. "Fuck your stupid whore. Fuck, she wants to cum. She's close. Your stupid whore barely needs to be touched to cum."

Suzi slid in from the side, taking Adrienne's mouth with her own. Delta's eased her grip on Adrienne's throat to let her return the kiss. Delta continued thrusting her fingers in and out of Adrienne as the two girls sloppily shared saliva.

Delta had been leaving Suzi out, a bit, but threesomes could be tricky to manage. By the end, Delta would have Suzi wobbly-legged and satisfied. She just had to wait her turn.

Under Delta and Suzi's joined efforts, Adrienne's climax washed over her. Her hips bucked into Delta's hand as she cried out and made choked noises, and Delta's grip on her neck increased as she reached her crescendo. The flimsy bathroom stall rattled as Adrienne thrashed. Adrienne spat obscenities, her words no longer making sense.

She'd really needed release. Delta was kind of jealous at how intensely she was falling apart.

"Enough, enough," Adrienne choked out.

Delta released her grip and stilled her pumping. Adrienne sucked in air and slid down the stall wall, her head visibly swimming. Delta would've crouched down and comforted her—she was shaking something violent from her explosive finish—but Suzi intercepted her. She grabbed Delta by the hand and guided her onto the toilet.

"Sit," she said. "My turn."

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Suzi ground her hips against Delta, seated on her lap. Her panties provided an agonizing friction that had Delta groaning and bucking in return.

"You can feel through it, can't you?" Suzi asked. She was leaned forward, her forehead pressed into Delta's as she rocked her hips, sliding her panties against Delta's cock. "There's no way you're acting."

"It's an … unexpected development," Delta panted out. "I had no idea."

"Hm," Suzi said, grinning down at her. "Lucky you."

"Can't … disagree."

"You have a condom, right?"

"You want one?" Delta couldn't fully keep the disappointment out, though of course she'd put on one, if asked.

"Enticing as it sounds, pregnancy from a magical shard item … I'll have to pass. And, it's just safe practice."

Delta couldn't argue that. Zoey had taken an infertility potion just in case, but Delta guessed there were other practical reasons to wear a condom. And, Suzi had asked, so Delta would comply. "In my purse."

Suzi dismounted her, which they both seemed equally upset by. She frantically dug through Delta's purse, finding the thin piece of plastic, then remounted Delta.

"Where'd you even find these?" Suzi asked, ripping open the plastic. Delta's cock stuck up between their bodies, twitching with impatience.

"Didn't think they made them that big, either," Delta said. "But, guess they do."

Suzi slid the condom down Delta's cock, then lifted herself up and pushed her panties to the side. Suzi hadn't undressed, besides her shoes; she wore her dress, still, and her panties. It was just as hot as being naked. Delta lined her cock up to Suzi's entrance, past the lacy fabric of her panties, and Suzi sank her lower body down, not wasting time, needing this as much as Delta.

Suzi sucked in air as she took Delta's girth. Delta also sucked in air. While not as intense as when she'd had a real cock, even an echo of having her length squeezed by another girl's tight walls was enough to have Delta's mind whiting out. Her hands dropped to Suzi's waist, and her hips pressed upward without conscious input.

Suzi whined as Delta sank into her, but she didn't ask Delta to slow. Her ass hit Delta's legs, and Delta stared in amazement at how her stomach was pushed out, a bare hint of her cock's outline showing—like always, when it came to Zoey's cock.

Fuck, Delta really wanted it to be bigger, somehow. She confirmed in her mind that the event with the oversized toy had unlocked something in her: she hadn't been a size queen, ever, but she definitely was now. She wanted to bulge a girl's tummy outward as she fucked them—to see every thrust with a defined outline, like had happened with her.

Not that fourteen inches wasn't fun, or enough. Delta started moving, gripping Suzi's waist as she slapped herself into the other girl.

"It's not fair you got to go first," Adrienne pouted, having apparently recovered.

Delta wasn't able to pay her other partner much attention; she was lost in the sensation of fucking Suzi, and the noises she was making. Finally, Suzi's prim composure had broken … but of course fourteen inches of girl cock had done that. Suzi rocked her hips back and forth, aiding Delta where she could.

"Fuck," Suzi panted with each slap. "So much. You're so fucking big."

Adrienne, arriving behind Suzi, hiked her dress up, providing Delta an even better sight: her smooth, unblemished skin, a soft stomach. Adrienne kept bunching the dress up, so it was above Suzi's breasts—she wasn't wearing a bra, so there was nothing to pull down, there.

Adrienne cupped and played with Suzi's tits, tweaking her nipples as Delta and Suzi slapped their lower halves against each other. Adrienne's chin was on Suzi's shoulder. "You lucky girl. I shouldn't have been so impatient, and settled for fingers … maybe I would've gotten it first. You better appreciate it. It feels so amazing, right? Being fucked by such a fat girlcock? How did you get so lucky?"

Suzi could only groan in response. She couldn't even curse, anymore—her movements were desperate, twitching, awkward as Delta pumped her full. She was starting to come apart. Something was building for Delta, too, but not quite there. Either the muted sensations, or Zoey's stamina.

Zoey. The reminder jolted her.

Zoey was feeling all of this—each pump of Delta's hips into her dark-haired partner. It was her cock, even more than Delta's, being milked by tight, wet walls. Delta's movements picked up, the idea thrilling through her. And, Suzi had started to shake. It was time to finish her off.

With Delta's strength, Suzi barely had to lift herself up and down—Delta did it for her. She moved Suzi's body like it weighed nothing, jerking her body up and down onto Delta's cock with her own efforts, handling her with a steady grip by the waist.

"Please, yes," Suzi cried out. The words bounced off the bathroom walls; Delta wondered how many people heard them. She hadn't been paying attention to if anyone had entered … she was a bit distracted. "Fuck me, please. Fuck."

Suzi writhed on Delta's lap as she pumped her cock in and out of her pussy, bringing the girl to ecstasy. Adrienne had taken the liberty to rub at Suzi's clit. Her other hand played with Suzi's nipple. Suzi was overwhelmed, being attacked from so many directions.

Finally, Suzi collapsed forward, her climax wracking through her. Delta kept pumping until Suzi groaned for her to slow … which she reluctantly did. Delta's cock twitched inside Suzi, upset. The first hints of orgasm had started to creep in, setting Delta's skin on fire. She basked in the reprieve … though, tucked into Suzi's pussy, it wasn't a full reprieve. But a short break, the friction finally stopping.

"C'mon," Adrienne said, tugging Suzi by the waist. "Don't be greedy. You can rest—lay down on the towel. I want her to fuck me while I'm on top of you."

Suzi didn't hear Adrienne, still recovering, but she let herself be guided by Delta and Adrienne. They laid Suzi out on the towel. Her dress was still hiked up … she looked a mess, red-faced and barely able to focus. Delta smirked at that; she'd done a good job.

Adrienne climbed atop her. She pushed Suzi's legs open, then laid across her, and also spread her legs open. Delta set up between them, taking a brief moment to admire the sight—the two pussies laid against each other, and Adrienne, laid across Suzi with their tits pressed together, kissing the other girl.

This position wasn't the most convenient on a bathroom floor; there was no plushness or sink to the bed to give Delta the angle she needed. So, she picked Suzi up by her butt, bringing Adrienne up along with her, their lower bodies now at the level Delta needed. Again, there was a reason wayfarers were popular … Delta could hold this position as long as she needed, despite supporting a decent portion of the two girl's weights.

Before sinking into Adrienne, though, Delta took a moment to rub between them—to enjoy having her cock slide between two stomachs, against two wet pussies. Suzi and Adrienne ground against her.

"Please," Adrienne gasped. "Stop teasing. I want you inside."

"It doesn't matter what my stupid fucktoy wants, does it?"

Adrienne ground harder against Delta, groaning. "No, but Master's cock wants relief. I know it does. So use her willing cocksleeve. Please."

Delta couldn't argue that reasoning. She lined her cock up, then slapped her hips forward. She jostled the two girls, the impact of her hips rippling Adrienne's ass.

Delta worked back into a rhythm. Adrienne's ass was red from her spankings earlier. Delta adjusted her grip on their lower halves, then used the free hand to add a few more smacks. Adrienne cried out. Delta had learned her lesson; she didn't go easy on Adrienne. Even as she pumped the auburn-haired girl full of fourteen inches of girl cock, Delta spanked her and degraded her, not holding back.

"Stupid fucking whore," Delta grunted as she pumped Zoey's cock in and out of Adrienne. "You needed a fucking that bad? Well, here it is. Take it."

"Fuck," Adrienne whined. "I can feel you in my stomach. Deeper, please. Please. Fill me up. Cum inside your stupid fucktoy. She's yours to empty in. Y-Your cum dumpster." Adrienne's hips jerked desperately back and forth, meeting Delta's rhythms. She was sliding up and down Suzi with each impact, whose eyes had refocused; she was watching from beneath Adrienne, panting at the display. Her hand was between her legs, rubbing—ready for her own round two.

Adrienne came only a few moments before Delta's own climax washed over her. Zoey's cock—Delta's cock—clenched, and Delta slapped forward one more time, hunching over the two girls. She groaned, a long, drawn out thing, as her cock finally gave in to Adrienne's tight, milking walls.

The sensation itself had been muted, but her orgasm wasn't. Delta cried out—joining the chorus of Adrienne's moans—as she pumped a sticky load of girl cum into her partner. Her hips arched forward, and she held that way for a few seconds, savoring her pelvis buried into Adrienne's ass. Then she started rutting, working out every sticky, ejecting string she could, the lack of friction no longer satisfying. As Delta had grown to expect, it went on and on—her cock spasmed for way longer than it should, emptying itself in a comical quantity into her partner.

Or, into the condom, which Delta had almost forgot she'd put on. Would it hold? Zoey came a lot; it had to be stuffing the plastic near to bursting. Delta was too lost in pleasure to care. She fucked Adrienne's tight hole until her cock had spent itself completely.

Delta groaned, then pulled out of Adrienne and fell back, dizzy. Vaguely, she looked down at herself—at Zoey's cock sticking into the air, with a condom filled with a comical amount of cum. It had held.

Adrienne shuffled up to Delta, sitting on her thighs. "Wow," she laughed. Her second recovery had been quicker than the first. She pinched the condom, closing the top and sealing the cum-balloon, then worked the condom off Delta's cock. She turned it over and admired Delta's output. "That thing cums like a monster, too. Doesn't just look it."

Delta had forced herself to lean up, even if she was dizzy. "Yeah. It does." To Delta's continued appreciation.

Suzi had also sat up. She cozied up to the two of them. Adrienne, seeing it, grinned, then turned Delta's condom over and poured some of the white liquid into her mouth. She leaned forward and captured Suzi's lips, whose eyes widened, but quickly reciprocated. Delta's cock twitched in excitement—which was weird, seeing how Delta's own visual stimulation shouldn't have done anything for Zoey's cock. Her emotions had linked to it, too … a two-way street?

Delta admired her two partners as they sloppily shared Delta's cum, spilling down their chins and onto their tits—and onto Suzi's dress, which she didn't seem to pay attention to.

Suzi took the condom, then poured more onto Adrienne's face, rubbing the liquid roughly around, spreading it so it coated her face in sloppy quantities.

"Gods, you're so fucking gross," Suzi said. "You like this, don't you? Being covered in cum? Slut."

Like usual, Adrienne grinned at her partner, savoring in the degrading talk. She opened her mouth for more, and Suzi poured a second load in. They kissed.

Finally, after expending all of the white liquid, Suzi stood and grabbed a second condom from Delta's purse.

"Hope you've got a lot more in you," she said.

Zoey's cock—Delta's cock—hardened back to full mast.

"That answers that," Suzi said, amused, rolling the next condom down.

Chapter 61

Chapter Text

Zoey had mentally prepared herself for Delta using her 'night out' as thoroughly as possible, but she had underestimated Delta's stamina. Zoey spent the better portion of two and some hours squirming on her bed, humping air in a way that provided no friction—or, no additional friction—but being unable to help herself. It was torture, in the best and worst interpretations of the word.

She was, at least, spared from Rosalie watching the event. Even by the time Delta's enthusiastic night out ended, Rosalie hadn't returned to their shared bedroom. She had set out into Treyhull with a laundry list of plans, apparently.

A half-hour after Zoey stopped being magically pleasured across half a city, Zoey heard giggling and stumbling coming from outside her door, and Delta's loud, unmistakable voice. They'd gotten rooms next to each other, for convenience, when they'd re-checked into the Guild's living quarters.

Zoey cracked the door, peeked out, and sure enough, Delta was fumbling her key into the lock, accompanied by two girls. One had black hair, and the other, auburn.

It didn't take a leap of deduction to know these were who Zoey's cock had been stuffing not an hour ago. Zoey wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Delta flashed her a grin. "Hey, Zoey. Just stopping by to clean up."

"Who's this?" the dark-haired woman asked. She seemed embarrassed to have company; she appraised Zoey hesitantly. Which was fair, considering the state she—or all three of them—were in. Looking the way they were, Zoey wouldn't have wanted to be seen either.

Zoey leaned against the doorframe, studying the three. They'd come to clean up? Was that the truth, or was Zoey in for even more torture? Had Delta lugged her hook-ups back to her room for rounds ten through fifteen?

"Zoey, my teammate," Delta explained to her partners. The lock she was fumbling with finally clicked open. Delta said to Zoey, "We won't be loud, don't worry. Seriously, just here to clean up. Apparently Suzi didn't want her roommates seeing her like this." A grin. "I can't imagine why."

'Like this'. Yeah. As Zoey had already noted, the black haired girl was in a filthy state—completely unfit for public. She was coated in dried cum. Maybe someone who didn't know to expect it wouldn't have noticed, since they'd at least half cleaned up, and the stains were indistinct … but they'd missed plenty, and Zoey did know what to suspect.

And, it was funny to Zoey that it was the black-haired girl that didn't want to 'show up home in her current state', considering how Auburn-Hair was in much worse condition. Black-Hair, at least, could mostly have passed in the dark and nobody would have noticed the stains on her dress—and face. But Auburn-Hair's shirt, jeans, face, and hair were so much worse. The cum was visible caked on. Zoey's cum. And she was grinning at Zoey, wearing the filth like a badge of pride, knowing that Zoey knew what it was.

Christ. Delta really knew how to find them, apparently.

They'd walked through Treyhull looking like that? She guessed it was dark out, but still. Color Zoey impressed … talk about shameless.

"Uh huh," Zoey said. "You won't be loud."

"We won't," Delta said. "For real."

"Teammate?" Auburn-Hair interjected—it seemed aimed at both Delta and Zoey. Delta's introduction had made Auburn-Hair look at Zoey in a new light … and she'd already been looking appreciatively.

Zoey was appreciative, too. Delta had found two gorgeous women to spend the night with. Which made sense. Delta was beautiful, confident, and, while a bit too quick to speak her mind sometimes, that same cockiness went a long way. At least in a casual sort of setting, like girls looking for one night stands.

"Yep," Delta said. "Teammate. C'mon, let's get you two cleaned up." She tugged her two girlfriends into the room, then popped out, briefly, to toss Zoey's cock at her, which Zoey fumbled in surprise. "And thanks for the loan. But we're done with it." Delta's door closed behind her.

Zoey blinked. If she'd relinquished Zoey's cock, then maybe they really were done for the night. They had certainly looked spent. Either way, her end of the bargain had been fulfilled. She'd have some peace.

She inspected her softened cock for a few moments, that usual disorientation washing over her—that she had her own disembodied cock in her hands. Not something she could get used to overnight, was it? She shook the feeling away, then vanished the linking plate into her inventory.

Which they had discovered she could do. Or rather, Fe had. Her rush-order inspection, paid for at a premium even with Fe's generous discounts, had resulted in exactly what Zoey wanted to hear: that the linking plate could survive inventory-depositing without going haywire.

And thank goodness for that, because it was an immensely needed convenience feature. Her decision to be 'on display' was still a high motivation, but there would be times she would want it to not be so obvious, while also being able to wear normal clothing—something that didn't need to hide her enormous bulge, like a billowing skirt, or loose robes, or whatever.

For example, when she eventually met Rosalie's parents, and her sisters. She would rather not have her fourteen-inch problem so in-their-face when that day rolled around … or god forbid, for whatever reason she stiffened, creating an imprint all the way down to her knee. Zoey would die on the spot if that happened. So she greatly appreciated the item. Zoey's reservations over her cock were mostly gone, but that didn't mean every aspect of it, she loved. Its unwieldy size made it a headache to deal with when in polite company.

And sure, she could store the linking plate physically elsewhere, solving that problem, but being able to lug it around in her inventory meant she could also have it on hand whenever she needed it. A perfect solution, rather than a half-solution.

Zoey walked back into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. The Guild's walls were remarkably solid. Despite the density of the hotel-like rooms, she'd yet to be bothered by outside noise. Maybe if Delta really got going, Zoey would hear something from through the wall, but maybe not, either. And, Delta had seemed genuine that she was only offering her room as a place to get cleaned up, maybe sleep. After the two-hour marathon with sporadic breaks between sessions, Zoey would've been impressed if Delta had kept going. That girl knew how to roll around, but even she had limits.

A half hour ticked by, and Rosalie returned. Zoey had worked through a few more pages of Sabina's assigned reading. The more she learned about alchemy, the more she realized what she was in for: it would be a while before she could call herself competent. But maybe next time she saw Sabina, Zoey could perform a brew, rather than talk theory. She was looking forward to that.

The door closed, and a few moments later, Rosalie walked around the corner.

The hours she'd spent separated from her adventuring partner had somehow resulted in Zoey forgetting how beautiful she was. Rosalie had been such a staple in Zoey's life she'd somehow, absurdly, taken it for granted. Her hard features, small nose, chiseled jaw, and piercing ice-blue eyes hit Zoey like a punch to the gut. It literally took her breath away.

Rosalie's eyes flicked to Zoey's crotch. Zoey wasn't wearing pants; she'd stripped them off and tossed them aside, and was wearing only the pink fabric panties of holding. So, Zoey was smooth down there—she looked how she would before Ephy's transformation. Seeing it, Rosalie frowned, before quickly looking away and finishing walking in.

Zoey tilted her head. Rosalie, like always when it came to these matters, had been easy to read. She'd been disappointed that Zoey's bulge was hidden. Zoey felt a few emotion pass through her at that—a sort of insecurity, to name the first. What, Zoey without a cock wasn't worth admiring? But she knew that wasn't fair. Or, sort of. It was complicated.

Rosalie liked her cock. If Zoey were honest, she liked Rosalie's ass, and would be disappointed if that disappeared, too. It wasn't remotely the most important part of Rosalie, but Zoey still appreciated it. If Rosalie decided to flatten it out with a magical item, Zoey might've frowned too.

The whole topic was a mess, though, because the equivalence to her cock wasn't quite the same, seeing how Zoey had been magically granted the appendage. But, Zoey didn't want to linger on the incident.

And it wasn't a wholly negative event, either. The insecurity hadn't been the only emotion; confidence had swelled up, too—how couldn't Zoey be proud that Rosalie had outright frowned at not getting to admire her package? A reaction like that was exactly why Zoey had grown to like her new addition so quickly. And Zoey would have to have a horrible opinion of Rosalie to think that if Zoey somehow lost it, then Rosalie would lose interest in her. She just liked seeing it, and without thinking, had let it show on her face.

"Hm," Rosalie said. "You're reading. Something alchemy related, I'm assuming?" She sat on the corner of the bed and started taking her shoes off.

"Yeah," Zoey replied idly. The flash of insecurity was there then gone, Rosalie's words breaking the spell. Now, Zoey admired Rosalie, as she had at the start. "I haven't seen you dressed up so casually. It looks good on you. Though, I guess anything would."

She was wearing jeans and a light-red t-shirt; she'd changed from her adventuring gear at some point—Zoey didn't know when. Her toned arms and long, milky legs were on display. It was overall modest, but Zoey couldn't keep her eyes from crawling across Rosalie. Every part of her was perfect, and the brief time away—just a half-day, nothing at all, really, but which had felt so much longer—Zoey had forgotten how much so.

And the way her cheeks colored at Zoey's easily given compliment … that was the best part of everything. Rosalie huffed and turned away, then, shoes off, walked to the bathroom. Zoey watched the way her hips swayed, the way her ass changed shape as she crossed the room.

Fuck, it really was so perfect.

Zoey rolled out of bed and followed Rosalie. She leaned against the bathroom's door frame as Rosalie undid her hair, letting the bundled white-blonde tresses fall down her back. Zoey preferred Rosalie with her hair down—there was something casual about it. And that was what Zoey wanted. Casual. Partners, in a non-professional sense.

Girlfriends.

Maybe that title wouldn't just be a hopeful dream, soon. It was insane how the word heaved the ground beneath Zoey's feet. Turned her stomach into a pile of actual goo. Fuck, she had it so bad. How? She'd known Rosalie half a week.

"I believe I told you in the first shard," Rosalie said, focusing on the mirror and not Zoey, "that the compliments are ridiculous. If you need to be taken care of, just tell me. No need to … butter me up."

Zoey grinned. She leaned off the door frame and approached Rosalie, wrapping her arms around her stomach and putting her chin on her shoulder. "For a politician, you're really transparent."

Another huff. "Transparent how?"

"You say 'take care of me', like you're not itching for it too."

"A curious theory. You do tend to have those."

Zoey let her hands dip lower, then sneak under the hem of Rosalie's shirt and start fiddling with her jean's waistband. With a deft motion, the button popped open. "So, you're saying you don't want to?"

Rosalie quickly grew flustered, Zoey's toying with her pants setting her cheeks pink. Her voice was steady, though. "The alternative is dealing with your lecherous looks and excessive flattery, isn't it? Might as well sate your appetite. It's for my own sanity."

"Mmm," Zoey said, grinning at Rosalie through the mirror. Her eyes shied from Zoey's. Zoey's fingers teased her underwear's waistband, now, not her jean's, and Rosalie's breath started came faster. She was excited—anticipating what was about to happen.

"Well," Zoey said, fingers abruptly stopping their adventuring. "Either way, there won't be any of that tonight. We're keeping it strictly chaste."

"What?" Rosalie's response was as surprised as it was affronted. Affronted—Rosalie actually sounded offended at Zoey's unexpected statement. She reined the reaction in, but it was too late; Zoey grinned at her, and Rosalie's pink cheeks flared red at how obvious she'd been. "What do you mean?" she said, forcibly casual, wrestling for her composure back.

She 's so cute.

"Yeah," Zoey said. "Nothing's happening tonight, so don't even try it, you succubus. Cuddles, and that's it."

"But—but why?" Again, Rosalie flushed at her own response. "Not that a night of uninterrupted rest sounds unpleasant … but it's uncharacteristic. So I'm curious."

"Well, you see," Zoey started.

Rosalie waited.

"Tomorrow's date night."

Rosalie blinked.

"So I'm saving myself. I've got this feeling I'm gonna get lucky at the end … so I wanna be in top shape."

If Zoey had thought Rosalie's flustered state had been cute before, her clumsiness at the mention of a 'date' was twice that. Rosalie couldn't even seem to find a response. She finally settled on the wholly ineloquent, "Ah. I see. That's—that's fair reasoning, I suppose."

"Which means you're showering by yourself," Zoey said, kissing the side of Rosalie's neck. "I wouldn't be able to help myself."

That said, she left Rosalie with a firm smack to the butt. Zoey laughed and tugged the bathroom door shut behind her, Rosalie's protests coming several seconds too late—still flustered from the announcement.

Chapter 62

Chapter Text

Waking up next to Rosalie made it hard to keep her conviction, but Zoey somehow managed to.

As last night, Zoey took her shower alone. The thick black ink below her stomach had mostly washed away. It turned out that while the magical item's markings were aggravatingly difficult to get off her skin, it wasn't impossible. Though Zoey wondered whether it was her scrubbing efforts or if time—a cooldown—had softened the ink. It hadn't budged in the slightest the first night, so Zoey suspected the ink weakened each successive day. Either way, the last dredges of the markings washed away, and Zoey was left with clean skin. She suspected Rosalie and Delta would likewise be able to get theirs off.

Zoey knocked on Delta's door, but either she was a deep sleeper, or she'd set off for the day … Zoey suspected the first. So Zoey and Rosalie shared a breakfast down at the Guild's restaurant sans their third party member.

With some instructions from Rosalie, Zoey made her way to the Oasis, the casual title for the mage's training hall. She sat on a bench and leaned against the wall, cracking open her alchemy textbook.

Surprisingly, the material had been riveting so far. Though written in a dry, academic way, the exact sort of reading that Zoey hadn't been able to suffer through in her past life—was that too dramatic? She hadn't died, only been teleported, so it wasn't a 'past life'—but considering the sheer relevance of alchemy, and the intriguing dissimilarity to anything back home, Zoey found herself working through the dense text much easier than she'd expected. Next time she met up with Sabina, Zoey thought she'd be ready for a brew.

That'd probably be tomorrow. She had a busy day today. After training with Maddy, Zoey intended to set out into Treyhull and formalize her date plans with Rosalie, as well as run a few errands. She'd already decided she'd be keeping things relaxed and low key—so hard-to-get reservations or whatever wouldn't be needed, and were impossible for Zoey to arrange anyway—but she still ought to have a clear itinerary. A visit to the park, and a picnic, was the definite event she wanted, but she needed to pick out which park, and a nice place to set up.

Another event or two would be ideal, too. Did they have ice cream in this world? The thought demonstrated a problem—Zoey was at a disadvantage. How was she supposed to plan a date in an alien world? She'd need to talk to someone and get advice, ideas. Delta, maybe, if she was in her room when Zoey got back.

Maybe Maddy?

It would give the two of them something to talk about. As a potential fourth party member, Zoey didn't want to keep their training session today strictly professional. She wanted casual topics too, where she could get to know Maddy. Though Zoey wouldn't be neglecting her true purpose of this event, learning the basics of magic. But as teammates, she wanted to get a feel for Maddy.

Er, not in that way.

Though … that would happen too, if they did group up. But better to keep those thoughts reined in until Maddy decided to join them. If she decided to.

Besides planning for the date, Zoey needed to go shopping. Nice clothes, a pair of shoes, make-up. The clothing Rosalie had helped her pick out was strictly utilitarian … not exactly what Zoey wanted to wear on their date.

What would Rosalie want to see her in? A dress and heels? That would be too formal considering her plans. Tank top and jeans? A skirt? Button up and slacks? Maybe she should've talked to Rosalie in more explicit detail about this—she might expect the event to be formal. Which would be fine, but maybe too unwieldy for an evening at the park.

Zoey would get a few outfits to cover her bases, to be safe.

Somebody slid onto the bench next to her. "Lost in thought?" a cheerful voice asked. "Pretty sure you're supposed to look at the pages, not above them."

Zoey blinked as she turned to her visitor.

Maddy had a round, innocent face, and she was smiling brightly at Zoey, her light gray eyes warm—and genuine—enough that Zoey's returning smile came by instinct.

"Maddy?"

"That's my name!"

She was in a full mage's get-up: long gray robes (that clung surprisingly tight to her curves), a wide, droopy hat, and to her side, a long staff of twisted white wood, knotted at the top. Her blue hair was the most noticeable part of her, besides maybe her general cheerfulness. Her droopy wide-brimmed hat covered most of it, but the straight blue locks went down to her shoulders, so it was plenty on display.

She was cute. Not like Delta, whose curves Zoey sometimes couldn't draw her eyes away from, or the regal elegance of Rosalie. Wholesome. Though, Zoey knew not to place too much emphasis on first impressions. This was a girl who fought monsters for a living … she might seem cheerful, but 'young and innocent' wasn't true. She was older than Delta and Rosalie, even—nineteen, the same as Zoey.

Zoey closed her book, vanished it, then held a hand out. "Zoey."

"Figured!" She shook Zoey's hand. She was still smiling. "What were you reading?"

"Alchemy stuff?" The inflection implied Zoey wasn't the best person to talk about it with.

"Oh! You're a craftsman? Trained as one?"

A person's runes weren't guaranteed, but most people who received craftsman runes came from craftsman families … or at least had prior training. Hereditary in some part. So it was a reasonable assumption. "No, actually," Zoey said. "No clue why I got it. Don't know a thing about alchemy … so I'm playing catch up."

Maddy didn't know about her 'amnesia', did she? Zoey didn't know what Delta had told her. But Zoey could skirt around the topic much better than when she'd first arrived … she would undoubtedly say something soon enough that would have Maddy giving her a curious look, and it might be better to explain anyways, but Zoey could at least not be caught immediately. She could hold a halfway reasonable conversation, without giving away she was a foreigner from a different world.

Instead of blinking in surprise, Maddy looked jealous at Zoey's explanation. "Lucky you. I'd have killed for a crafting rune. My auntie is an enchanter … it looks like a lot of fun." She sighed. "But it wasn't in the stars for me."

A brief pause, Zoey struggling to find something to say to that, but she didn't have to—Maddy stood and clapped her hands together. "Kay! Did you check out a room for us?"

"Er, no," Zoey said, rising. "I don't know how it works. Sorry."

"No problem. Let's go handle it."

The room wasn't excessively expensive—relative to her portion of earnings from the previous delve, at least, since Zoey didn't have a good idea of how the economy worked, here.

Zoey knew these training sessions wouldn't be cheap, but that was on account of Maddy's tutelage, not the room costs. As one of the better lower-advancement mages in Treyhull, her time wasn't cheap. Which wasn't a big deal. Money wasn't too important for Zoey, as things stood. She had what she needed in the short term. And also had a few plans for future money making, through alchemy with Sabina. Though, that was still in the musing stages. Maybe she'd broach the subject their next lesson.

Maddy opened the door for Zoey, and she walked in. Unlike the other training rooms, this one had no windows. With a fourteen foot ceiling and an impressively large area to move around in, though, it didn't feel claustrophobic, despite being a giant box.

There were a few items of interest. First, the training dummies: mannequins of wood etched with arcane-looking diagrams. Zoey could only cast one 'free-form' spell—the sort not handled automatically by a rune—her ice spike, but she recognized the similarities between the diagrams for the spell, and the ones scribed across the mannequin. The same language. The same … 'symbols of magic', whatever the formal term for it was.

Zoey had seen similar markings elsewhere. Magic shared a consistent language. Most recently, the tall black obelisk sitting at the center of the Oasis. In more mundane places, too—like the showers back at the outposts, though the ones at the guild worked on regular plumbing. Or, at least, this society's magical solutions were mixed in with the counterparts Zoey knew better. She doubted the plumbing system Treyhull operated on didn't use magic at all. Why wouldn't it?

Besides the mannequins, there were several other things that drew Zoey's eyes. There was a large 'target board' on the wall, floor to ceiling, about ten feet wide. Or, that was what it looked like. Most of the items of interest Zoey couldn't discern the purpose of. Undoubtedly, they were features of the training room intended to aid with practicing with magic. Maddy would probably explain as they went.

"Delta mentioned you were in some weird circumstances," Maddy said. "And that you might not know what's going on."

Zoey's curious looks around the hall must have been more obvious than she'd thought. And, it was as good a prompt as any. She should let Maddy know what she was in for. "I have memory problems. It's not just that I need help learning magic. Almost everything—terminology, routines, best practices, whatever else. My head's mostly empty." She waved around at the training room, at the various items. "Don't have a clue what any of this does."

Maddy tilted her head at Zoey's announcement. Delta hadn't brought her into the loop on Zoey's amnesia, then, only vaguely referenced her 'odd circumstances'. Not that it was a big deal; Maddy took Zoey's reveal in stride.

"Well, that's no problem," Maddy said. "We'll get you squared away. Honestly, people with bad habits are in worse shape than someone with no habits. You're fresh clay! Soft and pliable." She made a squeezing motion with her hands. "I'll take great care of you."

Zoey paused.

Maddy realized what she'd said, and the gesture she'd made. "Uh," she said, turning pink. "Like, a blank canvas! That's a better metaphor. Much better. Forget what I said."

"Right," Zoey said, trying to fight away her amusement for Maddy's sake … however funny it was, the speed Maddy was turning red. "You're an illusionist, right?"

"Yeah!" Maddy seized the change in topic a little too loudly; she flinched at her volume. "Um, yeah. Same as my mom, so I got lucky there. Learned half my class before I ever got it, it feels like. You have a generalized arcana rune, right?"

"Generalized?"

"It doesn't have a specialty tied to it. Just, 'rune of arcana'? Probably around a third of mages have it."

A frequent rune type, then, like her rune of alchemy. "Yeah. Does that mean you have a 'rune of illusions', then?" Zoey paused. "Sorry—was that an inappropriate question? I do that sometimes. Still relearning everything."

Maddy shrugged, but didn't answer Zoey's question. People's runes were personal topics … except for extremely common runes, like 'arcana' or 'alchemy'.

Zoey guessed Delta had taken the liberty to tell Maddy hers was one such. Zoey wasn't bothered; it was pertinent information, and really, the only thing that Rosalie had insisted needed to be hidden was her 'quicker-advancement' skill. The most 'overpowered' ability Zoey had by a large margin, and which made her someone people would want to exploit.

"I'll still be able to teach you," Maddy said. "I can't make elemental spells, but the process is the same. Plus, I have this." Maddy raised her hand, and a heavy tome dropped into it from nowhere, pulled from her inventory. "You'll need to learn how to read spell formulas. That's gonna be a bit tricky, and take more than a day, but I'll translate for you—we'll have you trying out a few different spells before the day's over. Delta mentioned defensives, right?"

"Ice armor?" Zoey echoed, the spell name sticking out from their discussions. "They're worried I'll get hurt … Delta and Rosie don't really need help on the offensive side of things."

"Rosie," Maddy repeated. "Delta didn't talk about her much." She hesitated before saying the next part. "Sounds like they don't get along super well."

Maddy had picked that up already? "Well," Zoey said. "They're not best friends. I think they're warming up to each other, though."

Maddy nodded, then returned to the topic at hand: "Okay. Might as well get to it. Let's start with the basics."

Chapter 63

Chapter Text

"So," Maddy said. "Like most disciplines, spellwork is a mixture of intuition and study. A proper academic foundation—an understanding of principles and techniques—helps a newbie mage in advancement … though, truth told, a person could stumble their way into competence just by listening to their heart. That's important to remember. What you're doing should feel right. Your rune gives you an invaluable set of instincts, and the worst mistake you could make is ignoring them over what some stuffy book says."

Zoey blinked. There were similarities in what Maddy had said to how Sabina had described alchemy, but Maddy was taking a much harder stance: that instincts superseded everything. Sabina had outright said instinct was needed in the 'brewing stage', but she'd emphasized study and knowledge was just as important, if not more. Maybe that was because alchemy was a crafting rune? It would make sense a crafting rune took a more scientific approach.

"It does feel like I know how to do things I shouldn't," Zoey said. "Rosalie helped me learn the basics," the bare, bare basics, "but even then, she's not a mage. I had to fumble around … but I made it work." In a very simple sense, at least. A single spell: ice-spike.

"Exactly," Maddy said. "That's lesson one—use what your rune gives you. Study is important, but not that important. Practical application, and learning to trust yourself, is by far the most crucial aspect. Though, advance studies—before entering the Fractures—is definitely useful. My mom made me work through a nauseating amount of books. I think some people take that to mean study is the most important part of casting, since most good casters have pored over a bunch of spellcasting compendiums … but it's more because there's nothing else to do until you get your rune. Inferior preparation is better than none."

"Ah," Zoey said. It was an intriguing perspective. It made sense there would be misunderstandings about that sorts of thing … or, all sorts of things. These people didn't have the internet, obviously, and from her discussions with Rosalie, it seemed like valuable information on how to succeed as a wayfarer was kept secret simply for the purpose of competition. Zoey was in a fortunate position to be talking with a competent mage, someone raised by a family of spellcasters. Just one of a hundred other ways she'd been lucky, arriving to this world.

"Let's get some vocab hashed out," Maddy said. "There's a lot of words people use to mean all kinds of things, and I want us to be on the same page. So. Here we go."

Maddy's bubbly, somewhat timid nature had faded as she started her lesson. Zoey had always loved seeing someone become absorbed talking about things they were passionate about—and Maddy was definitely passionate about spellcasting.

Maddy traced a gloved finger through the air in a wide circle, and where her finger passed, a glowing white line was left behind. The quick movement completed, a single, thick circle hung, supported by nothing.

"A circle," Maddy said. "It's how all spells begin. You know what it means?"

"The number of them represents the strength."

"Right," Maddy said. "Or, mostly right. It's not wrong, but you're paying me so I can be specific. Circle strength isn't absolute—it varies from caster to caster. Really, a circle describes the maximum strength of a spell … and few people, possibly none, can reach that potential. Not even The Muse, I'd suspect."

"The Muse?"

Maddy gave her an odd look, before remembering Zoey's amnesia. "The guildmaster of the Striders," she said. "Maybe the strongest mage in the world. Definitely up there, at a minimum."

Zoey absorbed that. She'd heard the name of another near-legendary figure: Enzo d'Celestin, the guildmaster of the Deepshunters, the highguild Rosalie was aligned with. It made sense the other dominant political force had an equally powerful leader.

"Why's she called 'The Muse'?"

Maddy shrugged. "Her class uses music. Her weapon is a flute. And a few other reasons … but you're distracting us."

Zoey flushed; she'd done the same thing with Sabina. Zoey really did have a problem with being distractible. "Sorry. Keep going. A circle isn't an absolute measure?"

"Or consistent, at least," Maddy said. "It's about how much mana it can hold. Properly constructing the formula—" In a few deft movements, Maddy sketched several looping glyphs into the circle, filling the interior of the suspended glowing light, "—means the spell can hold closer to its maximum. But nobody can be perfect. Close, maybe. But the worse you are," as if to demonstrate, Maddy's wrist wobbled, and the next line she engraved into the air had a sloppy jerkiness to it, which made the whole diagram shake, as if a building with a support that had suddenly sagged, "the less mana the spell holds, and the less effectively it uses it."

Maddy placed a palm onto the finished spell circle, and the light surged, briefly, before vanishing in a flash. A single crystalline dart zipped away, slamming into the far wall and vanishing without a sound.

"And how does it scale?" Zoey asked. "The circles? From first to second, second to third. What magnitude between each tier?"

Maddy blinked. "Well, that's hard to quantify. And isn't consistent, I'd figure. Each successive advancement is stronger than the previous."

"Exponential," Zoey said, nodding.

"Er, yeah. Exponential." She gave Zoey a curious look. "You're a scholar?"

Which had Zoey pausing in surprise. She supposed a 'regular' person wouldn't know terms like 'exponential'—the education system, and technology, of this world wasn't in the stone age, but it wasn't quite to the point of Zoey's, or even close. 'Exponential' would be a mathematical term. Not a particularly complex one, but why would a commoner know what it meant?

Zoey had used similar terminology with Sabina, scientific words she took for granted, but Sabina hadn't commented on it. Then again, Sabina didn't comment on much, besides what was strictly relevant in the moment. She was an odd one, for sure.

Zoey had probably done the same with Rosalie and Delta. She wondered what they thought of it. Maddy had been the first to bring it to her attention. How much was Zoey giving herself away, using words like that? And in what ways, beyond just demonstrating a more thorough education than most people of this world received? Zoey might have to pay closer attention to how she picked her words.

"I don't think so," Zoey said, "but, uh," she tapped her head with her knuckles, then shrugged. "Maybe some background?"

Maddy seemed briefly embarrassed; that was the consistent reaction when someone forgot about Zoey's 'condition'. Zoey obviously didn't care, but it was less awkward to just brush past. So that was what she did, for Maddy's sake.

"So each circle describes a maximum strength," Zoey prompted. "Scaling exponentially."

Maddy nodded, refocusing. She sketched out, in a quick swish, a second spell, bringing a humming white circle to life. "With a one-circle spell, there's only a single strata to fill: the center. This space, here."

Maddy started filling out the interior of the circle, but slower this time, letting Zoey's eyes track the way her fingers moved. Before, she'd done it so quick Zoey had barely been able to keep track. Indeed, it wasn't a one-to-one process: each movement of Maddy's hand had multiple lines branching from it. The tracing was an aid, not strictly necessary—she was doing it with her mind, not her fingers. Zoey knew that from her own experience casting spells.

"Each of these sub-diagrams are called glyphs," Maddy explained. "The glyphs are what shape the spell—that determine the effect. Each has a meaning, and they change based on how you combine them. Like words, and sentences. You'd be surprised how close the comparison is. It's really just a foreign language … if a half-translated one that we've cobbled together a basic understanding of. Or, quarter-translated. A tenth." Maddy shook her head. "It's a language of the gods, so of course our understanding is shaky."

Maddy finished the spell, activated it, and quickly sketched the next. This one, though, had two circles: inside the first outer ring, she swished a second circle, about halfway from edge to center. "The rings the circles make with each other are called strata," Maddy said, indicating with a finger the 'slice' the second circle had created. "The center is called the prime strata. It defines the spell … which makes sense, because all spells have a prime strata, but not all spells have a second or third, and so on."

"If the … prime strata … defines the spell," like usual, the fantasy terminology felt a bit clumsy on her lips, "what's the other ones do?"

"Enhance it," Maddy said. "So, defines it, but in a different way." Maddy chewed her lip. "It's hard to explain. But the prime strata is the blueprint. Say, 'confusion bolt'." Maddy filled the interior of the two-circle spell, presumably shaping a 'confusion bolt'. "But now modifiers," Maddy said. "Say I want it to go faster—" she added a few more glyphs, packing them into the second strata, "and to split with a mental activation." The added glyphs were even more complex.

The finished spell—which Zoey only got to see briefly—was a diagram of compact glyphs. They blended together, the internal ring masked by how glyphs flowed from the interior to the outer slice. However simple Maddy was making things sound, it was a lot more complex than her words suggested. Not as 'compartmentalized' as she'd explained. But of course Maddy was starting with simplifications. She had to build from the ground up.

The spell activated, and another shimmering, crystalline bolt flew from the center of the circle. It split into two at the halfway point, each half disappearing into the far wall.

"What's that do, anyway?" Zoey gestured at where Maddy was aiming her spells: the tall diagram of glyphs that glowed each time a spell impacted it.

"Keeps magic from going stray," Maddy said. "Plus, feeds the energy back to the obelisk. No point in wasting, right? Though, only a portion. Hard to convert active mana back to its usable state. Obviously."

"It looked like some of the glyphs in that spell was in both stratas—both center and second. Why?"

"Well," Maddy said. "Can I be frank with you?"

"Please."

"There's no point in getting into the nitty gritty, unless you want to invent your own spells … which would take a long, long time before you're capable of doing so. Best to pick up a spellbook aligned to your capabilities, and make tiny modifications. And even that would be a nightmare, starting from scratch."

"Do you?"

"Make modifications? Here and there," Maddy said. "But I've been learning this stuff since I could crawl. Mom and Dad are …" she chewed her lip, then laughed. "Well, they're academics. Enthusiastic ones. I never stood a chance."

Zoey nodded.

"Kay," Maddy said. "We'll go over glyphs and how they combine eventually, but let's work on functional stuff first, yeah? Let's see what you can do. Go ahead and demonstrate."

After seeing Maddy's quick, totally assured motions? Zoey fought back a flush … she had a suspicion she'd be making an idiot of herself in the coming minutes.

Chapter 64

Chapter Text

Training with Maddy was a lot more hands-on than with Sabina. Maddy went over academic topics as they cropped up, and was happy to indulge Zoey's questions—or gently shoot them down when they could be too complex to answer in earnest—but Maddy focused on the applied side of spellcasting, overall.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Zoey said. "I know you're the expert here, but why am I still casting ice spikes? Shouldn't I be working on new spells?"

They'd been going at it for about an hour. Zoey's reservoir of mana was running low. Or, 'lust', more accurately, since Zoey's spells didn't operate on the more mundane resource available to mages. That would need to be taken care of, shortly. Some indeterminate distance away, Rosalie was carrying around the linking plate … and when she saw Zoey harden, she would 'recharge' her.

That alone had been quite the distraction. How couldn't it be? She'd had to focus intensely on the lesson, because accidentally letting herself harden meant Rosalie would think it was time for a recharge. Which would lead to an awkward few moments, having to scurry away from Maddy while Rosalie worked away.

Sheesh. What a situation.

Fortunately, distractions were easy to come by. Spellcasting was hard work. Even after just an hour, Zoey was drained, and not just in the sense of mana, but a less-defined way, like having worked a set of muscles to their limit that she hadn't known existed. A sheen of sweat coated her skin from the effort.

"Oh, we will," Maddy said. "But it's important we catch you up to speed on the basics, first. Techniques and stuff. Easier to do when you're casting the same spell over and over. I can't believe you weren't using a flourish!"

'Flourish' seemed to be the term that Maddy used for the physical crutch—the tracing of her fingers, or sometimes staff, in the air—for summoning spell circles and filling them with glyphs. While not strictly necessary, Zoey had found imitating Maddy made constructing the spell quicker. When Rosalie had taught her, Zoey had simply built the spell inside her head. It wasn't immensely easier, using a flourish, but noticeably, for sure.

And Maddy's argument made sense. Zoey was improving; her ice spike was coming to life more fluidly, and Maddy had even shown her how to make tiny modifications to the diagram to adjust the spell's bulk or speed—which were inversely proportional to each other, seeing how the mana needed to go to one or the other.

It was odd, the modifications. Maddy demonstrated the changes, and Zoey could intuit what they would do, even before she implemented them. Like Maddy had said, her arcana rune gave her heaps of built-in knowledge. To be fair, that was the only way Zoey would've ever been able to cast an ice spike in the first place, seeing how Rosalie was no mage. Zoey was surprised she even knew some spells. Part of her tutelage, undoubtedly—her parents covering their bases, at least in a small way, in case Rosalie received a mage-type class. Or, that was Zoey's best guess.

"But," Maddy said, amused, "if you want to move on, we can get started on some other spells. It's gonna be a lot of banging your head against the wall, though … and a lot of wasted mana. By sticking with your ice spike, we could make some actual progress. I thought it'd help encourage you."

"That's fine," Zoey said. "You don't have to worry about me getting frustrated." She paused. "Or, giving up, at least." She might get frustrated. She was only human. "An ice spike is one of the easiest spells to learn, right?"

Maddy pursed her lips, then sheepishly said, "Yeah, kind of."

"So a defensive spell like 'ice armor' would take much longer. More than an hour or two."

"We'll be hunkering down for a while," Maddy agreed. "Er, it only took you an hour or two to learn ice spike?"

"Yeah? Why?" Was it a good pace? Rosalie hadn't seem particularly impressed, back in the first shard. Then again, Rosalie would be impossible to impress when it came to competency.

Maddy thought about it. "Well, objectively … I guess not really. But for a novice without any training? Faster than I'd expect."

"Mildly above average. That's me."

Maddy laughed. "More than mildly. But yeah, sure, we'll start on reading spell formulas, then work away at a first-circle ice armor. How's your mana situation?"

Right. That. "I should probably top up."

A pause. Zoey knew Delta had briefed Maddy on what exactly that meant … if Maddy's quickly coloring cheeks didn't give it away.

"Right," Maddy said, coughing into her hand. "Reconvene in an hour?"

Zoey had gotten so used to Delta and Rosalie's easy acceptance of her class that Maddy's awkward reaction—the reasonable, default one when confronted with Zoey's class details—was twice as embarrassing … a flush picked up on Zoey's cheeks, too.

"Probably just a half-hour," Zoey said. "That fine?"

"S-Sure."

"Okay. Uh. See you then."

Still blushing, Zoey left the training room, closing the door behind her. Did Maddy know exactly how Zoey would be 'taking care of it'? Had Delta told her about the teleporting panties? If not, what did Maddy assume Zoey was heading off to do? Meet up with Delta or Rosalie in person? That would explain why she'd suggested a full hour break, despite how, with the convenient item Zoey was wearing, it probably wouldn't even take the full half-hour.

Maybe it was the awkwardness of Zoey's departure, all of Maddy's blushing, or just regular excitement at what would be happening, but to Zoey's horror, halfway down the hallway, she started to stir.

Not yet, she chided herself. Zoey picked up her pace. Not here. Let me get to a restroom or something.

The good news was that Rosalie was off doing her own things. She wouldn't be watching Zoey's cock like a hawk. It might take a moment for her to notice—

A pair of soft lips pressed into Zoey's cock head. Zoey stumbled and nearly fell. A woman passing down the hall gave her an odd look.

What the hell? Was Rosalie waiting for her to get hard? She hadn't even fully sprung up, yet, and already she was peppering Zoey's tip with kisses?

Shit. She had to get somewhere private. Maybe she should have stayed in the training room? But that was where Maddy was. Better than losing her composure in front of strangers, though, wasn't it?

And, she realized, horrified—she didn't know where the restrooms were.

Half a city away, Rosalie opened her mouth, taking Zoey's tip into her warm, wet mouth. She sucked away, tickling and stroking Zoey with her tongue.

Zoey groaned. That drew another look from a passerby. The mage training halls weren't the most crowded things, but some people filtered past.

Her face was burning. She was out in public, having her cock sucked. By Rosalie. Maybe they should've organized a clearer signal than just, 'when I get hard'. Zoey could pull out of the panties, she supposed … but only if she were in private. Could hardly do that here.

Rosalie's stroking and bobbing picked up speed. Zoey desperately fought away a moan. Mortified, she approached the receptionist desk, having arrived back to the central hall—where the tall black mana regeneration obelisk sat.

"Hey," Zoey said breathlessly, and frantically, "where's, uh, the restroom?"

The receptionist gave her an odd look—the fourth or fifth she'd gotten as Zoey fled to the desk—which was fair, considering the state Zoey was in. She was red-faced and panting. Half of it was arousal, half of it was pure, crystallized mortification. She was having her cock sucked as she spoke to this woman. Why did that set her skin on fire?

Rosalie stopped teasing. She plunged down, taking Zoey's cock into her throat. Tight muscles squeezed around Zoey's length almost before she knew what was happening. Rosalie was getting better at that—she'd swallowed Zoey's fourteen inches in one smooth motion.

Zoey only barely didn't moan. She did let out a whimper.

The receptionist blinked rapidly at her. She pointed. "Down that hall. Second door on the right."

"Thank—" Zoey gasped as Rosalie bobbed on her cock. "Thank you." Zoey scampered away.

She received two more questioning looks as she shakily fled down the hallway. The bathroom was blessedly empty; she shut herself into a stall and collapsed onto the closed toilet seat.

She'd made it.

Not without making an embarrassment of herself, but she'd made it. Maybe the whimpers and breathless groans the others had heard escape her mouth could be explained away by … something. Because obviously they wouldn't assume the truth.

Rosalie continued bobbing her head up and down, swallowing Zoey's cock. Zoey squirmed in pleasure, trying to be quiet, but unable to help the groans. Rosalie had worked into a rhythm.

Zoey wanted more. A more active role. She hastily wiggled down her pants—Rosalie eagerly sucking her cock the whole away through—then her panties. Zoey's cock—wet, recently pleasured—popped out of the portal; she felt it slide out of Rosalie's throat as she tugged them off.

Zoey removed the panties entirely, then turned them inside out. She pinned the panties—shimmering black portal facing outward—to the stall door, then waddled up to it. She poked her cock through, then started thrusting.

This hadn't been the plan, but Rosalie rejoined her lips to Zoey's cock eagerly, catching the humping appendage. Zoey's cock sank into her throat, and she started jerking even more frantically. The stall door rattled with the force of Zoey's hips smacking into it. The bathroom was empty, so she was fine.

Half a city away, Zoey's slapping hips plunged fourteen inches of girlcock up and down Rosalie's coaxing throat.

Zoey had been building up stamina for the past several days, but the searing embarrassment of having been out in public had her falling apart faster than she should have. And, Rosalie was getting way too good at this, at using her throat to pleasure Zoey. How long had Zoey been thrusting, and Rosalie hadn't pulled back for air?

Zoey groaned and let go, her climax washing over her.

"Fucking … take it …" Zoey moaned, slapping her hips forward one last time. Hot strings ejected from her length, stuffing Rosalie's stomach full. She felt, though didn't hear, Rosalie choking on her cock as it emptied into her. Her cock pumped and pumped, and Zoey imagined Rosalie's eyes fluttering as her prodigious load sloshed around in her stomach. She was taking the whole thing … every drop. That girl was a devil.

Shuddering, emptied and satisfied, Zoey fell back, sitting with a thump.

Chapter 65

Chapter Text

Fortunately, Maddy didn't know how much of an embarrassment Zoey had made of herself. Zoey returned to the training room mostly composed, and after a brief bout of awkwardness—both of them knowing Zoey had been pleasured, but not addressing it—they resumed their studies.

Maddy spent some time teaching Zoey how to read spell formulas using the notations in her spellbook. It was straightforward, but not easy. She made decent progress. Or, so Maddy said. Zoey didn't get close to manifesting the spell. It always fizzled. But it 'fizzled less than at the start', according to Maddy's semi-encouraging words.

Working on a new spell meant more mana wasted … Zoey needed to be topped off a few more times. Fortunately, they weren't as much of a disaster as the first. Rosalie attended to her eagerly, whenever her cock sprung up—with suspicious speed, even, as if she were waiting around for it to happen—but Zoey made sure not to get hard until she reached the bathroom.

As the practice day wrapped up, Zoey found herself broaching a subject she'd been considering asking Maddy for advice with.

"So," Zoey said. "This is off topic, but can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I'm … going on a date. And since," she waved vaguely at her head, indicating her amnesia, "all of that, I need some advice."

Maddy blinked rapidly, then a grin split her face. "A date!" She shuffled up to Zoey with bright eyes. "With who? What'd'you have planned?" She leaned forward eagerly, hanging on Zoey's response.

It was a more excited reaction than Zoey had expected. It was a good thing Maddy was that kind of girl, Zoey supposed, who loved talking romance. She'd be able to help Zoey out. Plus, the enthusiasm was hard not to match; Maddy's outward excitement was exactly what Zoey felt whenever she thought about her upcoming date with Rosalie, even if Zoey wasn't the kind of person to be vibrating like Maddy was.

"Rosalie," Zoey said. "The other teammate. We mentioned her, right?"

Maddy's eyes widened. There was a brief pause—Zoey couldn't guess why—but the enthusiasm surged back a second later. "That's so fun! You two are girlfriends?"

"Well," Zoey said, cheeks coloring at the word, "no, not yet. This'll be our first."

Maddy gasped.

"So you can see why it's important," Zoey said, a bit amused at Maddy's theatrics. Except they seemed genuine reactions, not exaggerated in the slightest. Or, not intentionally exaggerated. "And I have a few plans, but I'm a bit lost. It's hard to plan a date when I can barely remember how the world works."

"Yeah, I bet." A steely determination crossed Maddy's face, which had Zoey blinking with how fast it appeared. "Then, I'm at your disposal. Ask anything."

Zoey had thought it the moment she'd seen Maddy's bright and innocent face, but the image had been cemented throughout the past few hours: Maddy was just a cheerful, enthusiastic person. She wanted to help, genuinely. It was disarming how free she was with her kindness, and it was enormously endearing.

Zoey had had a side-mission with these training sessions to determine if Maddy would be a good fit on the team, personality wise, and her answer—so far, at least—was a resounding yes. She supposed a few hours wasn't enough time to get to know someone for real, but how couldn't Zoey like Maddy?

"I've got a few things planned out," Zoey said. "Rosie's a bit … uptight." She loved that girl, but—

Er. Loved? Where had that word come from, so easily? Zoey liked that girl. Best to avoid … that other word … for now. Moving way too fast.

She liked that girl, Zoey rephrased, but she wasn't blind to her flaws; she was definitely uptight.

"So I want to do something relaxing," Zoey continued, the 'L word' only making her stutter for a moment. "A picnic at the park, I'm thinking, for the main event."

"So cute," Maddy groaned, seeming almost mad when she said it. "Which park?"

"That's one of the things I wanted to ask. Which's best, for a date?"

"I haven't been in Treyhull for super long, but I guess I know better than you." Maddy popped up; they'd been seated as they practiced. "C'mon." She held out a hand. "Time to go scouting."

"Scouting?"

"Better to find an answer in person. We'll look around."

"Oh," Zoey said. "I didn't mean—I didn't want to take up your time like that."

Maddy seemed almost offended. "There's nothing more important than a first date. I can spare a few hours." She wiggled her hand, and Zoey took it, rising. The short, petite girl had a surprising amount of strength in her grip; she was third advancement.

"And I was planning on doing some clothes shopping," Zoey admitted. "Having a second opinion would be nice there, too."

"Totally." Maddy snorted. "Not that you need to dress up, but sure." A second later, she blushed at what she'd said—as if the words had barreled out of her mouth without verifying with her brain, first.

Maddy had done that a few times: said something without meaning to. It was never overly inappropriate; Zoey didn't think Maddy could be overly inappropriate.

Which was, if Zoey were honest, maybe the one problem with her joining the team. Maddy was cute, and definitely attractive, but she was so wide-eyed and innocent that Zoey hesitated taking her into the kinds of shards they'd been venturing to. Zoey was protective of her, even, despite knowing her only a few hours … even though it wasn't Zoey's place to be protective of her. She was a grown adult, same as all of them. And as old, or older, than Zoey.

"Let me get changed," Maddy said, brushing past her accidentally too-frank compliment. "Meet up in the lobby, 'kay?"

"Sounds good. And thanks again."

"Thanks? Nuh-uh. No thanking me. First dates are class one emergencies. I'm doing my civic duty."

Maddy had been wearing her adventuring gear when they'd been practicing spellcasting, but when they met up again to head out into Treyhull, she was dressed up in an everyday outfit. The flowing gray robes had been replaced with a frilly white blouse and a long skirt that went down to her shins. Zoey had to stop her lips from quirking; it made sense Maddy liked frills and pleats.

She didn't wear her long, drooping hat, so her blue hair was on display. It really was an odd combination with her warm gray eyes—she had a striking look about her.

She still wore her gloves, the only piece of the outfit that hadn't changed from their training sessions. A sparkling amulet hung around her neck, the red gemstone, a ruby perhaps, now laid overtop her blouse, so that Zoey could see it—she had caught glances of the silver chain affixed to it, but it'd been hidden beneath Maddy's robes.

Zoey herself hadn't needed to change; she'd been in casual clothes already. Or, the casual sort of clothes she'd grown used to wearing, which meant sturdy adventuring gear. During her first shopping trip with Rosalie, Zoey had picked up a few articles that were more casual, meant for being out and about in a city, but not many. She'd been more focused on practical preparations.

"I'll follow your lead?" Zoey asked. "How long have you been here, anyway?"

"In Treyhull, you mean? A few months. Enough to get know my way around. We checking out the parks first? Or clothes?"

"Up to you," Zoey said. "There's still some things I want to talk about, too. Maybe brainstorm a few ideas besides the park? Another event or two."

"Well," Maddy said. "What's she like to do?"

The two of them had set out from the guild, into the streets of Treyhull. They talked as they walked.

"That's kind of the problem. Rosie is … hard to read, sometimes. Doesn't share as much as I'd want. And she's dedicated to wayfaring. So much, she might not even have hobbies."

"Delta mentioned something about that, I think."

"Which is fine," Zoey said. "That's the life she's chosen." Or, that wasn't quite right—her parents, and station of birth, had chosen it for her. But Rosalie had accepted the role, either way, and that was her choice … just one derived from responsibility and expectations. "I'm not trying to change who she is. She already thinks this date is a waste of time, so—"

"Huh?"

"Er," Zoey said. That might paint this event in a poor light, like Zoey had begged to go on it and Rosalie was unenthusiastic. "She wants to go on it," she clarified. Though, only because it was Zoey. And didn't that have her stomach doing funny things? "But she also thinks she should be focusing on more practical stuff. That's just who she is. So, like I was saying, I'm not trying to change that … I just want to show her what else is out there."

If Zoey showed her a relaxed evening, or a few, and Rosalie ended up becoming restless for the 'wasted time', then Zoey would stop taking her on them … or at least ease up. Zoey wouldn't mind dates in the training room, if that was what Rosalie wanted more. She knew this relationship of theirs wouldn't be like the ones she knew before. The low-key moments would be rarer.

And, honestly, Zoey had a world to be saving, whatever that meant. So it would be a good thing if Rosalie's workaholic tendencies rubbed off on her.

"I see," Maddy said, contemplative. "She sounds …" Maddy hesitated, as if she couldn't find the right word. "I'd like to meet her."

"Well, that'll happen soon enough," Zoey said. "Unless you don't want to, obviously. Delta told you how we're looking to fill out the squad, right?"

"Yeah," Maddy said. She coughed. "But, erm. I'm still thinking about all the … stuff."

Zoey's class. "That's fair."

A brief awkwardness. Maddy was blushing, now—and pointedly walking faster. She definitely wasn't like Delta. Zoey's class had Maddy off-foot, and might actually be something that had her not wanting to join. Like … well, most people, probably? Delta was special in that regard. Delta was special in most regards, really … and Zoey meant that mostly as a compliment.

"So," Zoey said, bringing things back to a topic that wouldn't have Maddy's cheeks burning red. Or hers, too. Maddy's embarrassment had heat rising on her own cheeks. "Like I was saying, some ideas for low-key events."

Maddy was comically easy to distract, fortunately. Bringing the topic back to the date had her swerving in demeanor … like a dog spotting a squirrel. "Oh!" she said. "How about, hm, finger painting?"

"Finger painting?" That had come out of left field.

"Imagine it," Maddy grinned. "You're saying she's all prim and proper, hard to cut loose, and that you want to force her out of her shell … well, no one can be all refined-like while finger painting. It's perfect!"

It was an unexpected suggestion … but honestly, Zoey was amazed at how good it was. Rosalie, finger painting? Something a bit childish, and sure to be messy? It would definitely work to do what Zoey needed. She could imagine it already.

"That's genius," Zoey said. "Like, actually. And you came up with it so fast."

Maddy grinned. "Well, it's what I do." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't tell my sisters I said this, but I'm definitely the reason at least four of them aren't single. They're all useless."

"At least four?"

"Ophelia and Venus are lost causes," Maddy said solemnly.

"But … how many do you have, then?"

"Seven," Maddy said. "And two brothers. Yes, it's a headache."

Nine siblings. Seven sisters. Zoey couldn't even imagine.

"Well," Zoey said, shaking her head. "I'll want to do it during the picnic, I think. So I'll have to get supplies." Maybe there was a place that hosted finger painting, but Rosalie wouldn't properly be able to cut loose in public. She'd be too worried for her image. It was one of the reasons Zoey had picked a picnic: for the privacy. Out alone, in a field. "And I was thinking, maybe we'd get desert, after? Somewhere cute?"

"Ooh," Maddy said with a nod. "Yeah, I know a few places."

Chapter 66

Chapter Text

"Stop fidgeting," Delta said. "It's cute, but stop. You look fine. You're making me nervous."

Zoey stood in Delta's bathroom, inspecting herself in the mirror, having finished preparing herself for her and Rosalie's upcoming date. Rosalie was probably ready too. In a few minutes, it'd be time to set off from Delta's room, walk one door over, and knock.

She'd dressed, as she'd told Rosalie to, casually. She'd gone with a tried-and-true classic: jeans and a black tank top. She hoped it wasn't too casual. The intent wasn't to seem like she wasn't trying—just that she wasn't pretending to be someone she wasn't. Zoey wasn't really a 'get dressed up for a fancy date' kind of girl. She would, of course, when the situation called for it … but Zoey was trying to show her true self.

Was Rosalie the 'preferred to get dressed up' kind of person? For all her poise and obvious pedigree, she also had a sort of razor focus that Zoey suspected meant frivolities annoyed her. That something lowkey—though a bit contradictory to Rosalie—would be her preference, too, over an event where she had to put on airs, like a fancy dinner.

That was, Zoey supposed, the ultimate point to this date: to get to know Rosalie better. And the reverse.

She'd gone light on the make-up. Maddy had helped her with that, too—the shopping part. Ephy's blessing meant it was almost redundant. Zoey was still disoriented by how perfect her features were, now, with the changes to her body. She styled her hair, but it had looked fine messy; she applied make-up, but it only made her look different, not better. Still, she put on a mild pink lip gloss, and light touches of mascara and eyeliner, just to make it clear she was trying, that she hadn't shrugged on the first clothes she found and strolled over to Rosalie's door.

Would Rosalie wear make-up? Obviously, she hadn't bothered while delving, or even in their short stay at Treyhull between shards. Her career was cutting through monsters and trekking through wilderness; cosmetics weren't high on Rosalie's priority list. But for a date? Zoey thought she might. She wouldn't care if she didn't—her stalwart practicalness was one of the things Zoey admired—but she'd also appreciate if she did. She'd appreciate Rosalie in any form, obviously.

Overall, though, Zoey hadn't gone excessive on preparations. Today was a big deal, but the events Zoey had planned weren't accommodating to dresses and heels. No fine dining and an opera house … or whatever was the norm for this world. Rosalie had seen too much of that, Zoey had to assume. Though, probably not in date form. Maybe?

Was this her first date? It wasn't the first time Zoey had wondered over the question. Certainly, Rosalie couldn't have had a shortage of admirers, but she didn't seem the type to have entertained any of them. Arranged dates, then? Of a political sort? Or had she always been razor-focused on wayfaring? From the sounds of it, she wasn't entirely free from politics, despite her ultimate purpose of advancement.

But Zoey had a feeling it was Rosalie's first date. As in, ever. That was intimidating, to say the least. And a bit freeing? It meant she wouldn't be comparing Zoey to anyone. But also, first dates were a big deal, and this event was already nerve-wracking enough without knowing it was Rosalie's first ever.

Or, not nerve-wracking. That wasn't right. Or … yes it was. Zoey didn't know. She was both paralyzed and giddy, totally at ease and confidently nervous. Things would go well, obviously. But also, she was going to crash and burn and ruin everything.

Delta sat on the sink, watching her with amusement. Zoey had appropriated her room so she could get ready separate from Rosalie. Delta had helped reassure her … though maybe not in a direct manner. Mostly, she'd been teasing Zoey.

"The flowers aren't too much?" Zoey asked.

"It's grossly sweet," Delta said. "So yes, it is. She's going to have a melt down. Are you sure I can't come watch?"

"I think that might kill the vibe, Delta."

"I can be discreet. As long as you don't see me?"

"I'd prefer if we didn't have a little voyeur peeking at us from the bushes."

"Voyeur?" Delta quirked her eyebrow. "It's going to be that kind of date?"

"No. I'm just—" Zoey huffed. "No following us around, okay?"

"Mm." Delta made a show of considering the request. "I probably won't."

Zoey shook her head. She knew Delta wouldn't. She was, as Zoey knew she couldn't help herself from, just teasing.

And Zoey did plan to keep the date chaste … at least the date itself. There'd be nothing to spy on. Though after, when they found their way back to their room at the night's end, who knew what would happen? She'd play it by feel. But the events themselves, Zoey wanted to be a real date, not an excuse to have their hands all over each other. She and Rosalie had already started to explore that aspect of their relationship. Much, much faster than the 'more appropriate' half. So, she wanted this to be taken slower. For it to be genuine.

Not that a less-than-appropriate date couldn't be genuine, but Zoey was hoping to get to know Rosalie better. As a person, and for them to open up to each other. For sex not to be the focus. They would have plenty of time for those kinds of activities over the following months, assuming they stuck together as a team.

"Well," Zoey said, finally tearing her eyes from the mirror. "It's time, then. Thanks for your help."

"I sat here and mocked you for twenty minutes. But, yeah, sure." She snorted. "It's what I do."

"It was calming. So really. Thanks." Delta had done a great deal for Zoey's nerves, which Zoey knew had been intentional. Delta's form of encouragement wasn't like, say, Maddy's, not bright-eyed and optimistic, but Delta had been supportive nonetheless.

Taking a steadying breath, Zoey grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the entry table. Hand resting on the door handle, she glanced over at Delta one last time.

Delta raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Just don't break the bedframe when you get back. The guild's prickly about their property."

Zoey huffed and left.

One door over, she knocked and waited. She wiped a sweaty palm on her pants and tried to relax her tense posture, so she wasn't looking stiff when Rosalie opened. She really shouldn't be this nervous. Should she? Yeah, she definitely should. It was Rosalie.

The door opened, revealing her date for the night.

Zoey hadn't known what to expect from Rosalie's outfit—maybe jeans and a t-shirt, like she'd seen her in before—but the reality was better than any guess she could've made: she wore a long, flowing sundress that dipped a few inches beneath her knees. It was pale blue, a color Rosalie seemed fond of, probably because of how it matched her piercing eyes. Her long platinum blonde hair was up in a ponytail, the first time Zoey had seen her wear it like that. She wore bright red lipstick, a striking color, contrasted with her pale complexion and dress: Zoey couldn't look away from her lips.

"Mm," Rosalie said. "Roses, for Rosalie. Cute." She seemed dryly amused.

Zoey started, realizing she'd frozen. She thrust the bouquet out. "I couldn't help myself. Too cheesy?"

Rosalie took the offered gift. "It's very traditional," she said, shooting Zoey another amused glance. She leaned forward and breathed in the floral scent.

And, hey—why was she the one acting unruffled? Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around?

"You probably drowned in flowers, growing up," Zoey said. "But I thought it was appropriate."

Rosalie snorted. "No," she said. "Not at all. Perhaps if everyone wasn't scared of my father, I might have. These are my first."

"Wait. First?" Zoey couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. She knew Rosalie's parents were probably hard-asses—and important politically—but enough to scare away every suitor of Rosalie's? These were the first flowers she'd ever gotten?

Rosalie turned and walked into their room. A vase was laid on the dresser. Zoey saw it and huffed. She'd never gotten flowers before, yet she had a vase prepared?

"I'm that predictable?" Zoey asked.

"I gave it fifty-fifty odds," Rosalie said. She smelled the flowers one more time, then placed them in the vase. She turned back to Zoey and smiled. "It's a sweet gesture. Thank you."

Unfortunately, Zoey actually blushed. She had intended to come off suave and totally confident, today—that seemed to be what Rosalie liked—but she was failing totally. Not that Rosalie seemed to mind. That smile had been so heart-achingly genuine. God, Zoey was still blushing.

"Yeah, no problem," Zoey said, shrugging, trying to feign an easiness she definitely didn't feel. She held a hand out. "Let's head out?"

Rosalie took it, and not for the first time, Zoey was surprised at how delicate her hand was. She'd seen this woman rip a trapdoor from the ground, tearing hinges from wood in a scream of metal. Yet, dainty, thin fingers, with only a few light calluses.

"You're wearing heels," Zoey said, nodding at her feet.

"Mm. You said to dress casually, I know."

"So … ?"

"I needed to close the gap somehow, didn't I?" She eyed Zoey, annoyed. "You're too tall."

"It might be a headache to walk in, though. In the grass."

Rosalie paused at the announcement—at the reveal of her plan. She hadn't known they'd be heading for somewhere with grass. She shrugged. "That's fine." An amused look. "I can assure you I have the balance for it, if you're concerned over that."

Which … yeah. Rosalie could dance through snarling monsters without taking a scratch. Heels at the park would be—well, a walk in the park.

"Won't it hurt, though?" Heels had always been a major pain in the ass for Zoey, leaving her feet aching for hours. She wore them when she wanted to dress up, but only when she was trying to impress. "Or, I guess it wouldn't, for you." The same deal as her balance—Rosalie's empowered strength probably meant she wouldn't feel them at all. "Your choice, obviously. Just want you to be comfortable."

"I'll be fine." The two of them walked out into the hallway, making their way through the guild, headed for the city. "Grass?"

"I thought we'd start the day off at the park."

"The park?" Rosalie sounded surprised.

"My mission tonight is to get you to cut loose. So, yeah. Ever feed the ducks?"

"Feed … the ducks?" The response was even more perplexed. "Why?"

"Because it's fun." It was more of a background activity. Something they could do while talking and learning about each other. But, it was also fun, assuming you could collect a swarm. Watching them jostle and shove each other for the crumbs was pretty funny.

"I'll take your word for it."

To her side, Rosalie hesitated. Zoey prompted her, "What?"

"I've fed … other animals, though," she said, almost reluctantly—as if she hadn't been sure if she wanted to share.

"Like?"

"Well." She dragged the word out, working up the nerve. "My father keeps a menagerie. He's fond of large predators. One of his many … eccentricities."

"Large predators?" That had come out of left field. "Like, what, tigers?"

"And such."

"And such," Zoey said, eyebrows raising. "You've fed tigers, but not ducks, at the park." It was a hilarious discovery, but somehow not unfitting. She and Rosalie really couldn't be more different people if they tried—not that it was a revelation, or discouraging. Just, funny. Her dad kept a menagerie. Not usually something Zoey would discover on a first date. "So, what? You tossed them slabs of meat?" She shook her head. "I'm afraid ducks won't be half as interesting. That's a hard act to follow."

"Hopefully not as stressful, either," Rosalie said wryly. "The big cats weren't so bad. But the bears … or sharks …" she wrinkled her nose.

No joke. A full menagerie. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Does he keep a menagerie?"

Rosalie shrugged. "Like I said, he's fond of them." She almost seemed like she'd say more on the subject, but didn't. "Compared to some people I knew back at the Highreach Court, it's not that odd of a hobby. Relatively speaking."

Well, by Zoey's standards, 'owning a menagerie' was up there in strangeness. But, that was rich, fantasy-world people for you, she guessed. If Zoey had money pouring out of her ears, maybe she'd have similarly odd hobbies.

"Highreach Court," Zoey repeated. "That's home?"

Rosalie paused. Zoey had grown to recognize the reaction, though it was becoming rapidly less common, and less pronounced, with each instance. It was Rosalie adjusting, again, to the fact that Zoey didn't know common-knowledge material.

"Highreach is the capital of Cypremor. So, home, yes."

"That's where we'll be headed?"

"Cypremor is in Haven," Rosalie said. "Not the Fractures. So no. We'll be headed for Mantle, the de-facto capital of Deepshunter territory, after all this is over."

Right. Zoey should've been able to put that together. Rosalie's home would be in the safer realm that sat 'above' the Fractures, not the Fractures itself. She'd arrived recently—on turning eighteen, the standard practice for her society. Just, Zoey hadn't gotten around to her new environment being second-nature knowledge, so she made simple slip-ups like that.

In a different setting, Zoey might have continued this conversation down the practical path, asking what Mantle was, and what it was like, but Zoey was more interested in learning about Rosalie, not geography and politics.

"That's where the rest of your family is, then?"

"Indeed. Or, where they meet. My sisters are often on their own expeditions, and my father on … political missions, or whatever else. Sometimes up in Haven, as well. They're busy people."

"I bet. You said you had two sisters?"

They walked through the streets. Rosalie stayed silent long enough for Zoey to prompt her, "Rosie?"

"I'm deciding on whether I want to discuss family," she eventually said.

"Oh." It was Zoey's turn to stay quiet. "Obviously, you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to." Though, Zoey had been hoping this would be their chance to move beyond secrecy, at least a step or two. Not full disclosure, but her family, upbringing, and so on, Zoey had hoped to talk about, in at least broad strokes. Zoey would too, in whatever manner she could, considering how a good portion of her personal experiences had been scooped from her brain.

"I suppose I should," Rosalie finally sighed. "It's not that they're a sensitive subject. Rather, it reminds me of responsibilities I'm … distinctly pushing away, at the moment."

"Like I said—"

Rosalie waved her concern away. "It's fine. Let's see. My sisters." She was silent a moment longer, then sighed. "Charlotte and Elodie. I'll start with them."

Chapter 67

Chapter Text

"I'm the youngest," Rosalie said. "Charlotte is two years older, and Elodie, four."

They had made their way from the guild and were well on their way toward Zoey's chosen park. It was a beautiful day out; Zoey couldn't have asked for better. She and Rosalie were crossing one of the many stretching bridges that connected the gargantuan trees that acted as structural supports for the city. Each enormous trunk had rings of scaffolding encircling it, where denizens took up residence or operated businesses.

Zoey had memorized the way. It would be four bridges before they arrived to the park, one of the few structures built on a tree without a canopy: where the sun would shine down without being blocked by a mountain of branches and leaves. The shade was nice in normal circumstances, but it would obviously kill the vibe of a park. How one of the titanic trees had been stripped of its leaves, Zoey had no idea. Probably, it'd died some years ago—centuries—and simply remained standing. How could a tree of that size collapse?

"You know," Zoey said. "You did strike me as a youngest child."

"I did?"

"It's your blushing innocence, I think."

"Blushing innocence?"

"Though, you've started to change my mind on that front. With how often you're trying to seduce me, and everything."

"I'm the one seducing you?" Rosalie shook her head, exasperated, realizing she was being teased. "Stop goading me. As I was saying, Elodie is the oldest." Rosalie considered her next words. "She's always been … adventurous, and determined, but not in a good way. She's unreliable. She seeks thrill for the fun of it. I wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't in Mantle when we arrive, even. You might not get an opportunity to meet her. She might be out hunting."

"Unreliable?" Zoey asked. It was an unexpected description for someone of Rosalie's family. "You know, I kind of figured your sisters would be … older clones of you, I guess."

Rosalie raised her eyebrows at Zoey, and Zoey laughed.

And also, Rosalie having turned toward her, Zoey was struck for the tenth or twentieth time in as many minutes by her appearance: her platinum blonde hair done up in a pony tail and her bright red lipstick. Rosalie was gorgeous when sweaty and covered in grime, having hacked her way through droves of monsters. When she tried to be pretty? She could stop Zoey's heart just by looking her way.

"Well," Rosalie said, looking back forward, not noticing Zoey's brief crisis. "It's a half correct assumption, I suppose, but not in the way you mean. The three of us look shockingly similar."

"You do?"

"And you better not be thinking what I think you are, about that."

"Just that your mom must have strong genes," Zoey replied. But two Rosalie look-alikes … she wondered how similar. That would be, uh, quite the sight.

Rosalie side-eyed Zoey. Zoey paused, knowing by Rosalie's expression that she'd said something odd. But what? A second later, Zoey realized. Or, had a guess. 'Genes'. That wasn't a word regular folk knew, was it?

Earlier today, Maddy had asked Zoey if she had a scholarly background for using the word 'exponential'. Zoey was too free with how she spoke, wasn't she? Though, with Rosalie, Zoey didn't care if she slipped up. She hadn't decided if she was going to tell her the full truth of her circumstances, but if she did, then slip-ups like these would make the eventual explanation more reasonable.

"I suppose she must have," Rosalie agreed, brushing past it. The reaction confirmed in Zoey's head that this hadn't been the first time Rosalie had gleaned something from the way Zoey spoke. "Anyway, Elodie is tallest by a full hand, and Charlotte keeps her hair short, these days. I doubt you'll be mistaking us." She eyed Zoey again, emphasizing, you better not, at least.

And yeah, Zoey would obviously be playing that whole situation very, very carefully. "Elodie's adventurous, you said?"

"It's the reason she isn't the family heiress. She's outstandingly competent, but distractible and prone to … unproductive pursuits."

"Like what?"

"The arts. Adventure, for adventure's sake rather than advancement." Rosalie's nose wrinkled. "Men."

So, normal things for a young woman to be interested in. Hobbies and romance. Four years older than Rosalie, Elodie would be twenty-two. "Sounds like she's just living life. That's so bad?"

It seemed Zoey had stepped in it, because Rosalie frowned at her, then went quiet. Zoey itched to smooth the question over, but it was, ultimately, a goal of Zoey's: she didn't want to change Rosalie, but she did want to confront her in some small way… to make sure she was happy with the breakneck pace she set for herself, and the mountains of responsibility apparently loaded onto her shoulders.

"It's not bad," Rosalie finally said. "Perhaps Elodie … and I, for that matter," she emphasized, "can take time off for less practical interests, but ultimately, we have responsibilities. Elodie takes it to excess."

Rosalie had, of course, seen through Zoey's question, had seen the real intent behind it. She reminded herself that Rosalie was a politician, or had, at a minimum, grown among them. She had called the place she'd been raised in the 'Highreach Court'. Zoey's clumsy nudging would be seen through every time. Or, maybe not every time—Rosalie did seem to have blind spots—but this occasion, at least, she had.

"They're wayfarers, right?"

"Indeed."

"And Charlotte? What's she like? Is she the 'heiress', being second oldest?"

Rosalie's lips pursed. "She was."

"Was?"

Rosalie's shoulders hunched forward, and there was a hint of bitterness when she replied. "Charlotte had the dedication, but she lacked the talent. That was my father's perspective, at least."

Ah. Zoey could tell in a glance this was a topic they shouldn't go down. Rosalie had … what, taken her older sister's place as primary inheritor? She wanted to learn more about Rosalie, but not at the expense of souring the mood.

But still. That meant Rosalie, despite being the youngest, was the family heiress? It made sense, honestly. The way Rosalie acted suggested it. Zoey wasn't surprised at all.

"I'd talk about my family if I could," Zoey said. "But I can't, really. Some stuff is starting to trickle back, but not the specifics. Hazy pictures." She chewed her lip, then offered, "I think I had a brother?"

Rosalie glanced at her, concerned.

Zoey shrugged to dismiss the worry. "You don't have to tiptoe. The memory stuff is … unfortunate … but I guess I'm coming to terms with it."

She did, at least, have a guarantee from Ephy that once 'her purpose had been accomplished', her memories would be returned. Or, Ephy hadn't specified exactly when, had she? Not 'when Zoey finished saving the world', just a vague 'eventually'. Would her memories continue to solidify, passively, as they had been the past week? Until she remembered everything?

Zoey wished she could get that troublesome goddess into a room. She could use some clarification on her circumstances. For that matter, she didn't know what she was saving the world from. The only hint had been her date with Delta, that brief discussion of how the Fractures were 'decaying'. But that could just be some rumor, a group of crazies perpetuating it. Zoey's world had had plenty of those. Why not this one, too?

Probably not something to be musing over during a date.

"Well," Rosalie said, taking Zoey's reassurance at face value. "I suppose I am curious. Your random, unexplainable appearance into the shard I distinctly entered alone has been … perplexing me. Have any details of that returned?"

Zoey paused, grimacing. Rosalie had gone straight for a hard-hitting question. "I know more about how it happened than I'm admitting," Zoey finally said, slowly. "Not that it was intentional, or expected, or even … plausible." Maybe she shouldn't have used the last word, because it piqued Rosalie's interest. "But I guess I haven't organized how I want to talk about it, yet. I was talking more … me, if you have questions." She shrugged. "Y'know. Date stuff."

Rosalie flushed, as if she'd been chided. Zoey hadn't meant it in that way.

"Right," Rosalie said, turning forward. "I suppose you wouldn't want to focus on … all that. This isn't the time." She glanced away. "I'm not … experienced at this."

"You? Inexperienced at dating? I never would have guessed."

Rosalie tensed, briefly, at Zoey's teasing, then relaxed. She met Zoey's gaze and rolled her eyes. "Yes, well. You've certainly chosen an interesting target of your affections. I'll admit I don't fully understand why."

That was a statement that had Zoey staggering. Rosalie didn't understand why Zoey would be interested in her?

"Yes," Zoey said dryly. "The gorgeous, caring, brilliant woman who saved my life. How did I ever—" fall for you, Zoey barely managed to strangle off, "take interest. An unsolvable mystery."

Rosalie flushed. She didn't reply, but her brief insecurity did seem to disappear.

They walked together for a while, traversing the crisscrossing bridges of Treyhull. Zoey squeezed Rosalie's hand, and she squeezed back. Zoey looked out across the sprawling landscape. Suspended thousands of feet into the air, she had a great vantage point. It was a good thing heights didn't make her dizzy.

"Almost there," Zoey said. "This should be the last bridge."

Rosalie hummed in acknowledgment. "What else do we have planned?"

"Feeding the ducks, a picnic, a surprise event, then dessert. I didn't want to pack the schedule too tight, so we could relax and chat." She glanced at Rosalie. "I hope you weren't wanting something big and flashy?"

Rosalie shook her head, instantly. "No, definitely not." She paused. "Expected it, perhaps, but not wanted. This sounds better."

Zoey relaxed. She had been worried, however much she'd been convinced it was the right idea.

"So," Rosalie said. "We got side tracked. You said some of your memories are trickling back? A brother? What else? Parents? Where you lived?"

Zoey chewed her lip. How best to go about this?

Chapter 68

Chapter Text

It was odd, visiting a park hanging thousands of feet into the air.

Despite being wrapped around a gigantic, dead tree trunk, the park was more or less the same as the ones Zoey knew back home. Lush green grass, simple pathways crisscrossing here and there, sparse trees, and even a decently sized pond.

The logistics behind all that—how they'd built a park in the sky—hurt Zoey's head, but so did the logistics behind the entire city. How had the designers and constructors managed to create Treyhull? How did they bring supplies up? How had they gotten the millions of gallons—or whatever the quantity was—of water needed to fill the pond, much less the material for the rest of the enormous tree city?

With magic on their side. The exact applications, Zoey couldn't guess at, but magic in any capacity would simplify pesky things like logistics.

As they completed the last leg of the trip to the park, Zoey chatted with Rosalie about her slowly returning memories—the bits and pieces she could glean, foggy as they were. She tried to be honest without revealing too much about her status as an inter-dimensional traveler … or whatever Ephy had done to get her here. Zoey didn't know if this was a different planet, or universe entirely, or whatever. Those were questions above her pay grade. Easy to ignore, and not especially important.

Mostly, she talked about her childhood memories and how she grew up. Rosalie seemed interested in trying to guess where she was from, using the tidbits Zoey described to her, but she mostly ended up perplexed—an inevitable result, seeing how the suburban lifestyle of someone from modern-day Earth didn't match anywhere in this world.

It was freeing to discuss her history, even if Zoey didn't—and sometimes couldn't—go into real depth. Still, she painted a picture of her past, and what she'd been like, growing up. She talked a bit about family, but those bits were always the foggiest—the parts that Zoey might have an attachment to.

Because that had been Ephy's intent: to scrub her brain of distractions. And it had worked, unnerving as the experience was. She was unsettled by how she couldn't remember her parents' or potential brother's face, but it also meant Zoey wasn't agonizing over homesickness. In fact, bizarre as her time in this new world had been, she actually, unequivocally, liked it here. And that was only mostly of the fault of Rosalie and Delta. The world itself was fascinating.

Zoey had scouted out the Eden's Retreat Park with Maddy earlier in the day, so she knew where to lead them. The park was busy—it was a beautiful day out, and approaching evening, so of course it was—but not excessively so.

"It's crazy they managed to build all this," Zoey said, nodding, specifically, at the pond. They were strolling its edge, hand in hand, at a relaxed pace. The first order of business was feeding the ducks, but first they had to track the sneaky bastards down. Like Zoey had said, it was a big pond. "The buildings I can kind of wrap my head around, but half a lake? How?"

Rosalie hummed. "It must have been an undertaking," she agreed. "Though hardly impossible. Inventories and laborer classes make projects like this rather less intimidating than you'd think. Mostly, I can't help but think how wasteful it all is."

"Wasteful?" Zoey asked, surprised. "Why?"

"All this for a park?" Rosalie shrugged. "Impractical, I suppose. A waste of resources."

"Having somewhere nice to relax isn't wasteful," Zoey said. Rosalie really did have such an overly utilitarian perspective. "Look how pretty it is. It's good for the soul. Cities need recreational areas like this. Though … I get your point." Even with magic aiding them, building a park in the sky—such an extensive feat. And there were several in Treyhull. Crazy.

"Plus," Rosalie said. "It seems dangerous. This has to be one of the riskiest places in the city."

Again, Zoey was taken off guard. "Dangerous? Why?" A second later, the answer came to her. "Monsters?" Sometimes she forgot about those.

"All this open air." She scanned the sky, and Zoey couldn't help but do the same. "It must be a headache keeping people safe. That's why there's so many guards."

Zoey looked thoughtfully around the park. "There are more than usual, aren't there?" She hadn't noticed it until Rosalie had pointed it out. The green and blue uniforms of the Treyhull City Guard had become background noise to Zoey. She was used to seeing plenty of patrols, but there were even more than normal—by a significant amount. "How common are attacks, anyway? We haven't seen one."

"We've been in Treyhull two days. They're common, but not so much you'll see one every outing." She shrugged. "Not that I know for sure. I'm hardly an expert on Treyhull's monster conditions. But the Fractures in general are a chaotic place, so it can't be all that uncommon."

Zoey chewed on that for a few moments. "I'm surprised so many people come here, despite that." Zoey knew why—for the profit that came with supporting wayfarers—but even so. Were things bad up in Haven? The people here didn't seem especially desperate, so surely not.

"Haven has its own issues," Rosalie said. "I suppose from a larger perspective, risk of monster attack isn't such a deterrent. I'm the wrong person to ask."

They walked for a few moments, Zoey considering her words. She hadn't really thought about the Fractures'—and Haven's—big picture. Considering her mission in this world, she really should start doing so more. But that would come later. She was on a date. She shook the thoughts away.

Rosalie peered around. "You know, I was promised ducks, but I'm noticing a distinct lack of them, Zoey."

"Seriously. Where'd they even go?" This was the only body of water, and they'd been walking the edge for a while, scouting. The pond was, to be fair, enormous—big enough she couldn't make out the entire span. "We'll bump into them sooner or later. I know they're here." And there was hardly a rush. She was enjoying the casual conversation. That wasn't something she and Rosalie got enough of. "How'd your day go, by the way? What were you up to?"

Rosalie glanced at her, amused—and it took a second for Zoey to place why. "Well," she said, "this morning, I was training at the guild facilities, locked in a private room. See, I couldn't do more, because I was tasked with attending to a very troublesome teammate of mine, and her excessive needs."

Zoey coughed. In the moment, she'd forgotten how a good portion of Rosalie's day had been occupied. Was sex becoming such a staple that it had only taken a few hours to forget that Rosalie had been sucking her cock between each of Maddy's lessons?

"What kind of training?" Zoey asked, moving to topics that wouldn't have her walking awkwardly. She didn't have her portal panties equipped, so an erection would be as inconvenient, and obvious, as before. "You advanced one of your runes, right? Practicing a new skill?"

"Among other things, yes."

The natural next question would have been what skill, but Rosalie had already shot Zoey down in that regard once before: when Zoey had asked her what class she had. Rosalie wasn't open about her runes and abilities, something normal to people of this world. Zoey shouldn't take offense at it … but she did, secretly, and irrationally. She wanted Rosalie to trust her enough to give away that sort of information.

Rosalie leaned against her as they walked down the pond's edge. Zoey's heart sped up.

"It's an interesting one," Rosalie said softly. "Practical for combat. It lets me … bend my spear." She frowned. "It's hard to explain. I can thrust at odd angles—ones that don't make sense. And much farther than I should. It's massively improved my reach."

She had chosen to share, and without Zoey even asking. It made Zoey glow—probably too much. Why had Rosalie, though? Because she'd seen Zoey grow awkward, not asking 'what skill', which had been the obvious follow up? Either way, her stomach fluttered at the show of trust.

"You can warp space?" Zoey asked, trying to fight away the grin that threatened to break out. It hadn't been some huge gesture, so she really shouldn't be feeling giddy, but at the same time, Rosalie had made it clear that sharing any details to a person's class was intimate—probably in a way Zoey couldn't fully appreciate.

"In a specific application, I suppose. Only with my spear."

"Sounds tricky to use."

"My most unwieldy one yet," Rosalie agreed. "It'll take time to master. Perhaps this two week break is less of an inconvenience than I thought. Or at least, I have relevant matters to fill it with."

Two weeks—fourteen days, which they were already on day two of. It was going to pass in a blink, wasn't it? Zoey had so many activities to keep herself occupied. Practical ones and less practical: if possible, she'd like to get Rosalie out on another date, for this to not be a one-time thing.

And maybe Delta? Maybe not so formal as a date, but Delta had invited her for a night out drinking. That could be fun. Maybe Rosalie would want to come, too? A team date.

"And you?" Rosalie asked. "How'd your training go?"

"It's hard to tell with Maddy," Zoey answered honestly. "She said I made good progress, but she's so sweet I wouldn't be surprised if she's just trying to be encouraging."

"She's like that?"

Rosalie was still pressed into Zoey's side. They'd slowed to a rather inefficient duck-hunting pace … it'd be ages before they made it across the pond's stretching shoreline, ambling along like they were. That didn't bother Zoey. Having Rosalie tucked into her, head leaned against her shoulder, had a glow washing through Zoey.

"Yeah," Zoey said. "You'll see what I mean. I like her. She's … nice." That was the easy blanket word to use. "Though, she's not entirely sold on my class, I can tell."

"I can't imagine why." Sarcasm dripped from her words.

Zoey gave her a pointed look. "Well, some people don't seem to mind it." She made it clear who the 'some' referred to.

Rosalie's cheeks colored, but she ignored the accusation. "Anyway," Rosalie said. "It's fine if you're not some prodigy. You don't need to become an expert spellcaster in two weeks. You just need to learn a few defensive spells, so if something slips me, you'll be fine."

"That's the plan."

The sun beat down with a gentle warmth. The air was starting to cool, but it was still bright and hot out, only a few scattered clouds providing shade. Pressed so close to her, Rosalie's scent was distracting. She'd worn a floral perfume that made it hard to think. Though, Zoey would've found it hard to think just having Rosalie pressed into her.

"Near the end, I think I was getting close to ice armor not fizzling," Zoey said. "So, if that's a good pace …" she shrugged. "Then yeah, it went well. But I wouldn't know."

"I don't, either," Rosalie admitted. "I'm not a mage. But new spells take time to learn, and especially your first few. I know that much."

"It gets easier with each one?"

"So I've been told."

Zoey thought about that. "Your family's all warriors, then?" Er, what was the role Rosalie sorted herself under? "Lancers?" Classes that had an equal mix of defense and offense.

"Elodie uses a sword. The rest of us, spears. So, yes—all warriors, more or less. Not all lancers."

"More or less?"

"Well," Rosalie said. "Classes can't be sorted so simply." She shrugged, as if a full explanation would be too tangential to get into.

"I wonder if my arcana rune will advance as fast as my other two," Zoey said. "I figure it hasn't yet because I've barely used it." Mostly, it had been her two lewder runes that she'd used to aid Delta and Rosalie. "But now, maybe it will?" Now that she was training. Advancement didn't come only through shards—though it was the fastest way.

"I'd assume so." Rosalie leaned off Zoey, abruptly, spotting something. She shaded her eyes and peered across the pond. "Ah." She pointed. "There they are."

Zoey failed to see what she was pointing at. "I'll take your word for it." A second later, she realized why Rosalie had spotted them so easily. "Advancements give you better eyesight, don't they?"

"Better everything," Rosalie said idly. "Haven't you noticed? You're technically second advancement, now. Each rune's advancement gives passive benefits."

"Right." She thought about it. Heavy objects had felt lighter, recently, and maybe she could see and hear more sharply than before. "It's not super noticeable, but yeah. I think so."

"It's mild at first. And more pronounced for me. I'm a physical fighter. My senses are more integral to my class, so I get more."

"I'm jealous. Super strength and reflexes."

"And I," Rosalie said amusedly, "would like to conjure walls of ice from thin air. But we get what we get."

That was fair. Magic was nothing to sneeze at. But super strength would've been pretty amazing. Specifically, for some less-than-appropriate reasons. Zoey would like to be able to toss Rosalie around like she weighed nothing. It would make certain activities … more fun.

Their lackadaisical pace picked up, the two of them having identified their prey. The ducks came into view.

Chapter 69

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Rosalie was as awkward about feeding the ducks as Zoey had hoped she would be. Rosalie didn't say it outright, but her furrowed brow as she tossed breadcrumbs into the water and watched the animals quack and swarm showed how she felt: mostly perplexed. It was a very Rosalie reaction.

Zoey was just glad she was humoring her, seeing how much of a 'waste of time' she must view all this. Though, her shoulders definitely seemed to have loosened from their usual ram-rod straightness. And there was a hint of a smile mixed in with her vague amusement and confusion. Zoey counted that as a win.

The ravenous beasts glutted, Zoey and Rosalie strolled away from the lake, headed for the spot she and Maddy had picked out for the picnic. They took a casual pace, chatting.

"I can't believe how easy you're making that look," Zoey said, nodding at Rosalie's shoes. Heels in grass—Zoey could barely manage heels on flat tiles.

Rosalie looked down then back up, as if not understanding what Zoey was referencing, at first.

Which was kind of her point. "Your heels. How do you do it? You're like a … a panther." Well, not the best comparison, but it'd been the one that popped into her head.

Rosalie raised her eyebrows.

"You've got this … fluid grace. When you move." Zoey shrugged. "It's impressive. But you're sure it's not a problem?"

"I already told you why I'm wearing them."

"You're not that much shorter than me." Zoey paused. Well, that was a lie. "You're just … fun sized," she amended.

Rosalie glared at her.

Zoey laughed. She really wasn't that short—only a bit shorter than the average girl. Zoey was just tall. Had been, even before Ephy's transformation, which had added another few inches. At least, from what she could tell. She hadn't exactly busted out the measuring tape.

"I'm the shortest in my family," Rosalie muttered. "You're not allowed to tease me over it. I get enough of it from my sisters."

Zoey nodded solemnly. "Don't worry. You'll have me for the top shelf, now. You won't need to ask them anymore."

Another glare, which Zoey smirked back at—and which made Rosalie blush.

Reaching their destination—a large oak tree with a sprawling shadow—Zoey set out the checkered blanket and laid down the picnic basket.

"Hope you're hungry," Zoey said, sitting and stretching her arms wide, working out her muscles. They were aching from … well, all the chaos of the past few days. "But save space for dessert. You like ice cream?"

As it turned out, this world did have that, though it wasn't as popular as back home. Still, Maddy helped her track down a tiny restaurant near the park, which they'd be heading to after the picnic and finger-painting debacle.

"I've had it," Rosalie said. "Not often. I usually watch my diet, strictly. But it's," she paused. "Fine." She shrugged.

Zoey nodded in passive realization. Obviously, as part of her training growing up, Rosalie had kept an intense regiment, including food. That lean, fighting figure of hers hadn't come about by accident. Or through a magical transformation, like Zoey's had.

"Well. Today's for cutting loose. We'll make up for it tomorrow."

Which brought up something Zoey hadn't considered. While Zoey hadn't been in horrible shape back home, Ephy's transformation had left her much better off. Did it need to be maintained? Or was it an ongoing blessing—could she pig out and keep her figure? That'd be pretty awesome, but it was hard to test in any reasonable time frame. Unless she really indulged.

Rosalie hummed at Zoey's response, continuing to humor her. She wasn't not having fun, Zoey thought, but dates in general weren't really 'Rosalie', much less 'day-at-the-park and cute picnic' dates. Though, Rosalie had been the one to ask, so Zoey wasn't discouraged.

Or, kind of, she'd been the one to ask. Technically, Zoey had … but Rosalie had bludgeoned her over the head to get her to do so. Her lips quirked at the memory—at Rosalie being upset Delta had 'gotten the first date'.

"You ever been on a picnic?" Zoey asked. "Or is this your first?"

Rosalie paused as she considered the question. "Well," she said. "Do outdoor banquets count? Of a political sort?"

"Did you sit on a blanket?"

"Certainly not."

"In chairs?"

"That is the other option."

"Well, I meant a picnic bench."

Rosalie paused. "No. A regular table."

"Then I'd say that doesn't count."

"Is that what makes a picnic? A bench or a blanket?"

"I mean, kind of?" Not really, since a picnic was really just an outdoor meal … so Rosalie was probably right. "Or, I guess not. But yeah, pretty much."

"At least you're consistent."

Zoey laughed and finished unpacking the food she'd brought. It wasn't much: a freshly baked loaf of bread with accompanying butter and jam, cheese, crackers, and fruit. Light foods, but plenty to snack on.

"And finally …" Zoey said, withdrawing the last item and presenting it. "Ta-da. I hope you're not a wine snob, because one, I don't know anything about wine, especially with amnesia, and two, I'm poor, so it's cheap." She grinned, waggling it. "But I thought it fit the intended ambiance."

This world's alcohol policies were looser than the ones back home, which was fortunate. She'd already guessed that from Delta's casual invitation to go have drinks … and she could've guessed it even without that. Anyone down in the Fractures—a place swarming with monsters—ought to be able to buy alcohol, seeing how they were risking their lives on a daily basis. It'd have been ridiculous if not.

"Wine snob?" Rosalie echoed.

Zoey guessed Rosalie had probably never heard the phrase, common as it might be back home. Probably not a phrase thrown around by social aristocrats … or whatever stuffy circles Rosalie had grown up in.

"A sophisticated palate," Zoey amended. "Or, that's how the wine snobs put it."

Amused, Rosalie took the bottle and inspected the label. "Well," she said eventually. "I've never heard of the brand. That's not necessarily a condemnation … I suppose you might have eclectic tastes. For my sensibility's sake, I'll pretend it's that."

"So you are a snob."

"Mm. My family was—is—exempted from many frivolities of court, but not entirely. We do need to keep up appearances."

Despite that Zoey had put two and two together, hearing Rosalie so casually mention things like 'court' and needing to 'keep up an image' had Zoey off foot … and honestly, had some insecurity creeping in. She was dating this girl? Her? Zoey? How in the world had that happened?

Rosalie offered the bottle back, and Zoey put it aside.

"What was that like, anyway? Growing up in … court?"

"A sidenote," Rosalie answered, leaning back and looking away from Zoey, out into the park. "Irrelevant, compared to my training routine. Father had demanding expectations. We learned how to present ourselves in a befitting manner, but as I told you, we were exempt from much of their … games. Training took much greater focus. The court was more of an unfortunate chore."

"We, being you and your sisters?"

Rosalie nodded.

She had adopted a contemplative look, which wasn't Zoey's goal for today. They'd strayed into territory that could have the mood … maybe not souring, but turning away from what she wanted. This was supposed to be a cute, easygoing date. The point was to have Rosalie relaxing. And Zoey wanted to learn more about Rosalie, but not at the expense of making things heavier than they needed to be.

"Who helped you plan this?" Rosalie asked suddenly.

"What, I couldn't myself?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "No, you just seem the type to ask for help. To make it a social event. So, Delta?"

Rosalie had a good read on her. That probably shouldn't make Zoey's stomach gooey, but it did.

"Maddy, actually."

"You two made quick friends."

"Nah, that's just who she is. She'd help a stranger plan a date. Happily, honestly. She's a sucker for romance. Apparently she plans all her sisters' dates, too."

Rosalie thought about that for a second, then grimaced. "I couldn't even imagine 'talking romance' with my sisters."

"You three aren't close?"

Rosalie chewed over her response. At least she didn't seem put off by the heavier-than-intended question. "It's complicated. But even when we're on good footing, we don't … talk about things like that." She shrugged. "You're a very open person, Zoey. My family isn't. Even Elodie, who's the most of all of us."

"That's fair."

Zoey passed off the slice of bread she'd been preparing. Rosalie took it and bit in, savoring the butter and jam. Next, Zoey poured two glasses of wine, then handed one to Rosalie.

Hilariously, Rosalie took the glass and held it up to the light, tilting her head side to side as she inspected it. She held the glass by the stem with pointer finger and thumb, then, visual appraisal finished, swirled the liquid and closed her eyes, smelling it. Finally, she took a sip.

"I think it's a hoax," Zoey said. "I bet if I gave you a blind taste test, you couldn't tell cheap wine from expensive." She was pretty sure she'd seen a video proving that … but explaining the concept of 'videos' to Rosalie was obviously not on the table.

Rosalie blinked at Zoey's words. She probably hadn't even realized the ordeal she'd gone through before taking her first sip. She'd simply been going through the motions. Rosalie hummed. "Well, there is a difference. I suppose it's possible I couldn't, but some people I know could."

Zoey wasn't sold. Though, maybe the gap between 'cheap' and 'expensive' wine hadn't been closed in this world. Maybe that had happened from modern production standards. Or … who knew.

Zoey took her own sip. She didn't go about the whole process like Rosalie had, instead pointedly going straight for the drink, holding eye contact with Rosalie, which Rosalie rolled her eyes at—but her lips quirked, which meant Zoey had succeeded in amusing her.

She let the rich taste linger on her tongue for a moment, pretending to consider its complexity.

"Ah, yes," Zoey said. "It tastes like wine."

"I already believe that you're unsophisticated. No need to play it up."

A smile played on her lips, and Zoey grinned back. The two of them continued their meal.

Notes:

Hello! Two quick things.

1. I've moved over a relatively new story called Dungeons and Dalliances to this site. If you like the RPG and plot elements of Ascent, you'll like D (I hope). Smut will still be present, but not as much as Ascent.

2. If you've enjoyed my writing and would like to support me, feel free to check out my linktree. https/linktr.ee/winterwhereof

Chapter 70

Chapter Text

"This is ridiculous," Rosalie huffed.

Zoey considered Rosalie's canvas. A lurid display of blues, greens, and spots of reds and oranges—the flowers scattering the park—splayed out on the white sheet, brought to life by Rosalie's fingers. Zoey made a show of inspecting the piece, turning head side to side and humming in deep consideration, like a critic appraising a fine painting for merit, deciding whether it deserved to be hung at a gallery.

"Well," Zoey said, nodding firmly. "I think a toddler might have done better. It's abysmal."

Rosalie glared at her, but she didn't defend herself. Even prickly and competitive as she was, she couldn't deny the catastrophe she'd created. She did, however, settle for returning the insult. "And yours is much better? Is that supposed to be a cloud?"

Zoey looked at her own portrait, pursing her lips. It was a horrendous painting, even accounting for how she'd drawn it with finger paint, and her total lack of artistic background. But worse than Rosalie's? Well … she wasn't sure. It was a stiff competition.

"We'll call it a draw."

Rosalie huffed, again—the hundredth time of the past twenty minutes. She'd been making the noise constantly while painting. They'd been keeping their respective canvases hidden, but hearing Rosalie's frequent noises of displeasure, Zoey had known what to expect. Or, partially. Because could anyone be prepared for that?

"We might not have made art," Zoey said sagely. "But we accomplished something much more important, and that's all that matters."

"And that is?" Rosalie asked. She eyed Zoey. She knew something was coming.

"The impossible. We found a way to make you pout." She tapped Rosalie's nose, leaving a smudge of green. "You don't like being bad at things. It's cute."

Rosalie wrinkled her nose, going cross-eyed as she glared down at the mark Zoey had left, then turning it back toward her. How she had managed a cross-eyed glare … well, her pouting blonde teammate was capable of all kinds of incredible feats.

Just not artistic ones.

Rosalie glanced away, blushing. Zoey realized she'd been grinning a bit too dopily her way, and for too long. Zoey also cleared her throat and looked away.

"You're sure it'll wash out?" Rosalie asked. She picked at her apron—Zoey had provided them to protect their outfits—and craned around to assess the damage. "It helped, but I still got some on me."

"That's what they told us. Washes out. Should be fine." It was a nice dress Rosalie was wearing. It'd be a shame if the stray paint had stained it.

Zoey took one more glance at Rosalie's painting, laughed—which earned another glare—then collapsed backwards into the picnic blanket, stretching her arms wide. She closed her eyes. Her muscles really were so sore. Things had been nonstop go, go, go ever since she'd been thrown between worlds.

A moment later, she opened her eyes. The sky was turning dark, proper evening approaching. In her peripheral, she caught sight of the enormous tree trunk towering into the sky. It'd been out of her vision for a bit, and she'd almost forgotten she was in a flying park, thousands of feet in the air. Seriously, so weird.

"So," Zoey said, turning to look at Rosalie, who quickly glanced away, looking guilty. That made Zoey pause, then grin. She ignored the telling reaction … that Rosalie must have been studying Zoey while she was sprawled out. "I was thinking ice cream, like I said. You saved space?"

"I could go for dessert."

"Perfect." Zoey stretched one more time, then rolled to a sitting position. "Let's get cleaned up, then head there."

"Plain vanilla?" Zoey asked, aghast. "You never cheat on your diet, and you get plain vanilla when you do?"

"What?" Rosalie asked defensively. "It tastes good."

"So do the other flavors. And … you didn't even get toppings!"

"Toppings distract. Less is more. I wouldn't expect you to get that."

Zoey paused, then a mischievous smile slid across her face. The set-up had been way too perfect. "Yeah, I wouldn't. I'm more of a 'more is more' girl. I thought you liked that about me." She wiggled her eyebrows.

It took Rosalie a second to understand the innuendo. Her eyes dipped down, then back up, and she looked at Zoey like she was something unpleasant she'd stepped in—before shaking her head and settling into the small, elevated round table by the window. Using a spoon, she scooped out a bite of her ice cream and ate it.

Zoey sat across from her and likewise took a bite. She, unlike her date for the night, had made the trip to the ice cream parlor worth her time. She had laden her three scoops of varying flavors high with toppings and sugar-drizzles of various sorts—caramel, syrups, whatever they had on hand. Zoey wouldn't say she had a sweet tooth, per se, but when the opportunity arrived, she went for it. Anything worth indulging in, in her opinion, was worth over-indulging in.

They ate for a few moments, before Rosalie said, a bit suddenly, "I had fun." She met Zoey's eyes, then cleared her throat and looked away. "This was … nice. I enjoyed myself." She hesitated before continuing. "But … I'm not sure how often I could do something like this. Dates. I hope that doesn't bother you."

Zoey blinked, surprised at the abrupt nervousness on Rosalie's face.

"Of course it doesn't bother me," Zoey said. "Or … it does. Kind of." Rosalie glanced up, concerned, but Zoey finished the thought: "But not because I need to constantly be going on dates with you, but because I want you to take care of yourself. You deserve time off. In general, not just with me. I guess it's not my place to say so, but I'm worried you work too hard."

Rosalie went silent. She stared down at her ice cream, picking at it but not eating. Zoey worried that she'd said the wrong thing. She had expected Rosalie wouldn't want people telling her how to manage her time, and so Zoey had tried to soften the statement. But maybe she shouldn't have brought it up at all.

"Isn't it, though?" Rosalie finally asked.

"Sorry?"

"Your place. To tell me stuff like that. To worry." She stared down at her ice cream and poked at it with her spoon. "That's what … girlfriends do, right?"

Zoey sat there, stunned.

That had come out of no where. Zoey had thought for sure that she would be the one needing to bring up the 'g-word', not Rosalie.

Rosalie looked up, worried. Zoey realized she'd sat there, eyes wide, for a little too long. Seeing Rosalie's concerned expression, Zoey shook herself out of it.

A smile grew on her face, stupidly fast. That reassured Rosalie, but had her eyes shooting back down to her ice cream, pointedly away from Zoey—a searing blush replacing the worry.

"So that's what we are?" Zoey asked. Even she could hear the grin in her voice.

"Well," Rosalie mumbled. "Are we?"

"I dunno. A title like that … we haven't even kissed yet."

Rosalie's eyes flicked up, meeting Zoey's. Seeing Zoey's grin—now teasing, not just dopey—she lifted her chin and sniffed. Challengingly, she said, "Then maybe we should fix that."

Zoey's heart started slamming in her chest. Permission. To kiss Rosalie. She'd been waiting for that for—she didn't know how long. And she'd just been given it.

So … what. Now Zoey was supposed to kiss her?

How was she supposed to just do that?

They stared at each other for a second, with Rosalie's bravado—and some of Zoey's own confidence—fading for nervousness, blushes replacing them.

Fortunately, Zoey's body acted for her, working up her unconscious nerve even if she couldn't do so consciously. The table they were sitting at was tiny, so she barely had to lean out of her seat.

Rosalie responded instinctively. She also leaned forward, closing her eyes. Zoey's pounding heart reached a crescendo that genuinely concerned her. A flood of excitement—and intimidation—washed through her.

She kissed Rosalie.

It was barely anything. Chaste, so much less than anything they'd done before—but also so much more. She held the kiss for a few moments, savoring in Rosalie's soft lips, before she pulled back. It felt appropriate to keep it short. Like something hot and heavy would've meant less, somehow, considering their relationship so far.

Short as it was, it set Zoey on fire. That she'd finally been allowed to do it—to kiss Rosalie. Rosalie. It stunned her.

"Well. There we go," Zoey said, face burning. "It's official. Girlfriends."

"Girlfriends," Rosalie echoed. Her own face was betraying her, as much as Zoey's was. That only made Zoey's stomach start doing flips in even newer and more creative ways.

The blushing awkwardness faded after a few minutes. They fell back into their casual conversations, though the thrill didn't fade. Zoey could barely keep still, fidgeting for the entire rest of dessert. She caught herself grinning and had to wipe it away several times. Rosalie had to fight the tugging at her own lips, too, which just fed into Zoey's reactions.

They finished their ice cream and left. The first half of the trip back to the guild was normal enough—though Zoey was giddy the entire time, barely managing to not act an idiot. Or, too big of one.

The second half, though, a realization fell over the two of them. It didn't take any explicit conversation. Their casual chit-chat fell away and they started to walk faster. To breathe faster in anticipation. The date had gone well—amazingly, even—and now they were headed back to their room.

They both knew what that meant.

Their kiss had been chaste … but their full celebration. That, both of them knew, wouldn't be.

Chapter 71

Chapter Text

The trip back to their room was frantic.

Zoey barely lasted a second through the entry before she had Rosalie pinned against the wall. She kicked the door shut with her foot, her mouth on Rosalie's before it finished slamming closed.

The kiss was nothing like their chaste, heart-fluttering one back at the parlor. It was hungry and needy. She pried Rosalie's mouth open and explored, drinking her taste. There had always been something holding Zoey back from doing this, from taking Rosalie's lips directly, but the dam had been broken. She could enjoy Rosalie in full.

Still kissing, Zoey lifted Rosalie up and put her on the entry hall's table, clattering something to the ground in the process, which she paid no attention to. Their mouths didn't break during the adjustment. Zoey hiked Rosalie's dress up and ran her hands up and down her legs, reveling in how smooth and warm they were under her fingers. Rosalie's own hands buried into Zoey's hair, pulling her head in closer, giving better purchase for their tongues as they tasted each other.

Rosalie broke away first, panting heavily. The burning flush on her face, creeping down her neck, had to be mirrored by Zoey; she felt like she'd caught fire.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that," Zoey said breathlessly.

Rosalie returned the sentiment, but not with words. She pulled Zoey back into her mouth, returning to their frantic exploration. Her hands stopped ruffling through Zoey's hair and ventured to less appropriate places. Her smooth digits slipped into Zoey's waist band, and Zoey groaned as Rosalie rubbed her cock through her boxers. The friction was agonizing, with their rush back to the room having been more effective foreplay than actual foreplay ever could have been. She'd been rock hard for minutes, anticipating this. And Rosalie's slippery tongue against her own ... even with all of Zoey's practice recently, she might find it difficult to keep this boiling underneath her skin from pouring over.

Rosalie pulled back. She gasped out, "You can—you can go all the way, tonight. I want to feel you inside me."

Zoey growled as she picked Rosalie up, and, staggering with the awkward, frantic grip she had while still kissing her, dragged her to bed. She tossed her down onto the sheets and crawled over her. For a minute longer, she hungrily explored Rosalie's mouth, then, frustrated, pulled away. She fumbled off her shoes and tossed them to the side. Rosalie's heels followed a second later, likewise undressing herself.

"Keep the dress on. I want to fuck you in it."

Zoey wiggled down her pants, then underwear, and finally tossed off her shirt and bra, too. It had barely been a handful of seconds to rip the clothing off, but each had been frustrating to no end. She turned back to Rosalie and crawled over her. She'd kept everything on, as Zoey had told her to. Seeing the blonde girl laid out beneath her, flushed, in her pretty blue sundress was a sight that almost stunned Zoey—except for how badly she needed to be inside her, spurring her forward with an even stronger desire.

Zoey hiked Rosalie's dress up at the same time Rosalie's hand found Zoey's cock. She stroked eagerly up and down. Zoey wiggled a hand into Rosalie's panties and rubbed two fingers against her lips, smiling at the wetness she found. She pushed Rosalie's panties to the side, leaning forward so their faces were only a few inches away.

Zoey drank in the sight, then pushed her hips forward so that the tip of her cock brushed against Rosalie's entrance. Rosalie, hand still gripping Zoey's cock, ran her cock up and down, parting her lower lips. Rosalie panted up at her, savoring in the friction—and suspense—as much as Zoey was.

Zoey could barely hold it together. That was Rosalie's pussy she had her cock rubbing into. All Zoey had to do was push her hips forward, and she'd be in. Inside Rosalie.

She wanted to feel the noises Rosalie made when it happened. She leaned forward and captured Rosalie's mouth.

Then pushed her hips forward.

She slid into Rosalie's pussy.

Tight, wet walls wrapped around her cockhead. Zoey moaned into Rosalie's mouth, and Rosalie did the same—and at the same time, bucked upward with her hips, shoving Zoey deeper into her. Zoey only barely managed to keep herself from slapping her own hips forward and burying herself as deep as she could. This was Rosalie's first time, she tried to remind herself. Rosalie had never had someone inside her, even if she had toys, and Zoey wasn't an easy person to accommodate. Those whines of pleasure were also noises of discomfort. She had to be steady.

"Easy, easy," Zoey breathed, breaking their kiss. The words were as much for her as Rosalie. "How are you doing?"

Rosalie bit Zoey's lip and pulled it back, almost painful in her eagerness. "I asked you to fuck me," she growled. "I don't care if it hurts." She bucked her hips, taking more of Zoey. "So fuck me."

Well … with those words … so much for Zoey's restraint.

She sank the last several inches, burying herself in Rosalie's tight pussy. Rosalie cried out and arched her back, fingers digging into the bedsheets. She stayed that way, frozen, for a second, then let out a low, breathless moan.

They began to move together. Zoey rocked her hips slowly, thrusting in and pulling out, feeling the tightness of Rosalie's pussy grip her cock. They built up speed as Rosalie adjusted to Zoey's size. For all her desperate need, being stuffed by fourteen inches of girl cock took a moment to come to terms with. Each thrust had the noises escaping Rosalie's throat shifting more and more toward pleasure, and Zoey worked eagerly to stuff the blonde full.

"Did you—did you take the potion?"

Zoey froze.

Rosalie's legs wrapped behind Zoey and shoved Zoey forward, slapping her hips back in.

"Good," Rosalie panted. "I was hoping you'd forget."

"Should I— I should—" Zoey's hips didn't stop moving, despite her words. Loud claps filled the air as she buried herself into Rosalie's pussy, spurred on by Rosalie's powerful thighs thrusting her forward.

But she hadn't taken the potion. She could get Rosalie pregnant, if she finished inside her.

"You like it," Rosalie breathed. "The idea of—mm—breeding me."

"Do you, do you want me to—" Zoey couldn't think straight. The sounds coming out of Rosalie's mouth were driving her insane. Rosalie's milking pussy had removed all rational thought. And worse, every few seconds the idea it was Rosalie's pussy squeezing her cock thrilled through her, crushing any chance at reining herself in. "I'll take— I'll take the potion, if you want." She finally got the words out. Somehow.

"Why?" Rosalie groaned. "Don't you want to claim me? To fill me up? Stuff me with your cum and breed me?"

Zoey groaned, agonized. Really? This was the situation Rosalie chose to dirty talk, unprompted, for the first time ever? Wasn't she supposed to be the one blushing, with Zoey forcing out her real thoughts? Instead, she was the one taunting Zoey. And it was doing things to her.

"Rosie … I'm going to …"

"You're getting close. I know." Rosalie's powerful legs started humping Zoey in with greater force, and her lower body jerked upward into Zoey's cock with each thrust too. Skin clapped with each stroke. Despite Rosalie's words, she wasn't in control of herself. Her eyes had a wild look to them, and her entire body was flushed with pleasure. "So. I'll make you a deal."

Zoey could barely hear the words. That familiar pressure was building in her stomach, cock, radiating outward, suffusing her with warmth. Fuck. She was going to cum inside Rosalie. Fill her up with her seed and make her hers. She was going to breed Rosalie. She almost couldn't hear Rosalie's next words, the idea was so enrapturing.

If she'd had an ounce of sense left in her brain, she'd realize that Rosalie could just take a potion later, and they'd be fine. But lost in the fantasy of stuffing her girlfriend's womb with a hot load, Zoey's brain was telling her that what she was doing couldn't be come back from. That if she finished, she'd get Rosalie pregnant.

"Deal?" Zoey gasped.

"I'll let you finish inside, but I want something from you."

"Anything," Zoey groaned. She leaned her head into the bed next to Rosalie as she jerked faster and faster. She was reaching a point of no return. She really should drink the potion, even if Rosalie hadn't asked her to. Rosalie wasn't thinking straight. But her hips weren't stopping. She needed Rosalie's pussy around her. She needed to empty herself in her pretty girlfriend. To claim her by stuffing her womb full.

"Anything?" Rosalie asked.

"Yes. Yes, please, anything."

"Okay. Then go ahead," Rosalie murmured into Zoey's ear. "Breed me."

She didn't stand a chance. She slapped forward, her orgasm crashing into her. She came hard, crying out. Heat rushed through her veins, and every muscle in her body tensed. Her toes curled, and finally the first spurt came. Zoey pumped thick strings of hot cum fourteen inches into Rosalie, into her womb, filling her with baby batter. Unprotected. Beneath her, Rosalie began to shake, the experience crashing through her with the same force.

They kissed, frantically, even as Zoey's mind was wiped clean with the explosion of pleasure. Her cock pulsed and pulsed, pumping out load after load into Rosalie. It stuffed her to overflowing, pouring the sticky material out onto the bed sheets. Zoey worked in and out despite her sensitivity, rubbing at Rosalie's clit, helping her to an equally erasing high.

When the orgasm left her, Zoey collapsed on top of Rosalie, their sweaty skin pressed together. They panted, dizzy from the intensity of what they'd done. Zoey's cock stayed in Rosalie's pussy, still hard, despite how thoroughly it'd been milked.

"Shit," Zoey murmured. "Is that— I shouldn't have—"

"Made me yours? Why not? I am."

Zoey pulled up—somehow, despite her exhaustion—and studied Rosalie's pale blue eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, but her orgasm had washed past her and her lucidity was back, the same as Zoey.

"But," she admitted, lips curling. "It would be rather inconvenient. I'll need to take something." She leaned forward and kissed Zoey. "You were just so enthusiastic," she murmured into Zoey's lips, laughter in her voice. "You really have a thing for that, don't you?"

Zoey flushed, choosing to kiss Rosalie back instead of answering. Yeah, she guessed she did. But doubly so when it came to Rosalie. She couldn't believe she'd pumped her so full. Her cock pulsed, still inside Rosalie, at the reminder.

Finally, Zoey broke the kiss. "But the 'something you wanted from me'. How much am I going to regret it?"

Rosalie smiled. "Well. The good news is, you won't have to wait long to find out. I'm calling it in now."

Chapter 72

Chapter Text

Zoey looked down at her cock, where a thick metal ring was wrapped around her shaft's base.

Rosalie's 'request'. What she was cashing Zoey's open-ended promise for. The cock ring was finally seeing its day.

"It gets bigger with every prevented orgasm," Rosalie said. "I … I want to see what the limit is."

Whatever spell had washed over Rosalie and made her take charge had passed—she blushed and stuttered over the explanation. She even provided her usual justification.

"Out of curiosity, of course," Rosalie huffed. "I'm interested because of how strange it is."

"I get the feeling," Zoey said dubiously, still looking down, and too concerned for her own well being to tease Rosalie's flimsy excuses, "that 'suppressing' a bunch of orgasms is going to be … uncomfortable." Torture, more accurately. There was edging, and then there was magically induced edging.

"Well. You did promise me."

"Because I had a pretty girl begging me to breed her. I was under duress."

"I did not beg you. You begged me."

"Is that how you remember it?"

Rosalie huffed and looked away.

"And," Zoey added, "you're that much of a size queen, now? I know you like it, but fourteen inches isn't enough?"

"As if," Rosalie said stubbornly. "I'm just curious."

"Uh huh. It's Delta and the dungeon trap, isn't it?"

Rosalie's attention snapped to Zoey. She gave Zoey a look so disgusted that Zoey might actually have been worried, if she couldn't see through the act so easily.

"You want to be stuffed silly," Zoey grinned. "I seriously doubt it'll get that big … but maybe enough you can get a taste. A precursor."

She crawled forward across the bed and pushed a strand of Rosalie's hair to the side. She'd undone her ponytail, splaying out her platinum tresses in the way Zoey liked best.

"I'm thinking that gel we got from the last shard might be able to recreate the stretchiness potion … and maybe something that makes me bigger, too. But I guess this is a good hold-off until then. Hopefully my skill can make things work." She kissed the cheek of a furiously blushing Rosalie who wasn't meeting her eyes, then said, "but since you're torturing me, I get to pick our positions."

"That's a fair compromise," Rosalie mumbled.

"Good. Then, here you go." Reaching into her inventory, Zoey pulled out a silver stud.

Rosalie blinked at it. "Oh. That?"

[Stud of Oral Ecstasy: Uncommon. Transforms the user's mouth into an erogenous zone.

"That," Zoey grinned. "Do you need help?"

Rosalie frowned as she took the item. "No." She undid the clasp and, in a bout of nonchalance that had Zoey both impressed and horrified, stabbed her tongue through with the bit of metal. She downed a few swishes of a health potion to heal the puncture.

"You didn't even use the numbing agent!"

Rosalie paused, then shrugged. "Pain conditioning was part of my training. That was nothing."

Which was a statement that doubly horrified Zoey … though why should it? Was it that surprising? She didn't know the details of how Rosalie had been raised, but her family hunted monsters for a living. 'Pain tolerance training' was par for the course.

Rosalie noticed Zoey's expression, and hesitated. She leaned forward and kissed Zoey, and despite knowing why she'd done it—to distract her—it worked flawlessly.

Because Zoey couldn't believe she could just do that now. Kiss Rosalie.

Rosalie shivered, then pulled back. Her hand went up to her mouth, eyes widening. "Oh," she said. "Oh, wow."

Zoey grinned, remember. The last of her concern washed past. "What's it like? Your mouth pussy."

Rather than addressing the crude terminology—which Delta had first used—Rosalie continued to blink, then ran a finger down her tongue. She shivered at the sensation.

Zoey shuffled onto Rosalie's lap. Her cock stuck up and pressed against Rosalie's stomach, but Zoey was more interested in something else, right now.

"Open up."

Rosalie blushed, but did as told. Zoey stuck a finger into her mouth, rubbing it around, between her lips and teeth, against her cheeks and tongue. Rosalie groaned in pleasure, Zoey's finger providing pleasure wherever it went.

"Fuck me," Zoey said. "It's that sensitive?"

Rosalie's panting answered for her.

Zoey put two fingers back into Rosalie's mouth. She tugged Rosalie's chin down, prompting her to open wider, then thrust her fingers down Rosalie's throat. She choked, briefly, and groaned at the same time—a mess of a noise. Zoey let Rosalie recover, then started throat-fucking her with her fingers, making loud squelching noises. When Rosalie's gag reflex finally gave in again, she pulled out, dragging thick stands of saliva. Rosalie coughed into her hands, steadying her airways.

Zoey sucked on her fingers, tasting Rosalie. It was hardly the most inappropriate thing Zoey had done, but for some reason, Rosalie flushed crimson, shocked, and looked away.

"Zoey!" she protested.

"What? It's just spit." Zoey grinned at her. "Pretty sure we've shared plenty of that."

"Just, still." She floundered for a second, but had no good excuse. At a guess, it was because of the new sensation in her mouth. It had flustered and confused her. Zoey kind of wanted to try the oral stud herself—but later. Obviously, playing with Rosalie was a lot more fun.

Zoey pulled out her own stud, put it in, then leaned forward to kiss Rosalie.

Kissing Rosalie the normal way already flustered her … with her mouth turned into a second pussy, Zoey's exploring tongue had her shivering in moments. Rosalie pulled back, gasping.

"That's—wow. That's intense." She swallowed.

"It synergizes." The stud Zoey was wearing made her give better head—and the stud Rosalie was wearing made her mouth an erogenous zone. It was an unfair combination.

She took Rosalie's mouth again. She tongue fucked her sloppily, and in less than a minute, Rosalie was coming apart. The novelty of the situation was probably why it happened so quick. First times were always intense. Zoey didn't let up when Rosalie started to shake and groan in ecstasy. She explored Rosalie's mouth, biting her lip, running her tongue around, until her spasming finish had left her.

"I'm … I'm supposed to be teasing you," Rosalie accused, still panting from her strangely induced orgasm. "New rule. You have to use your—your cock." She stuttered over the word. For having insisted that Zoey breed her a moment ago, Rosalie's confidence had evaporated amusingly fast.

"Yeah, that's fair," Zoey said. She bit Rosalie's lip, eliciting another groan. "Just stop being so easy to play with. I get distracted." She leaned back on bed, shuffling off Rosalie's lap, and laid down. Her cock stuck up into the air, and Zoey gestured at it. "Now, get your pretty little mouth to work."

Rosalie flushed, but did as she was told. Zoey knew by now that Rosalie liked being teased—and even insulted, to a point. She wasn't sure how much, and was worried over pushing that boundary. Certainly, that night at the hotsprings, one of their first encounters, Zoey had degraded her rather thoroughly, and she'd loved it. But how far could she take it where Rosalie still was having fun?

Choking and slapping? It was probably something best talked over explicitly … but if Zoey handled it well, working into it, she could find out through Rosalie's reactions. The problem with asking directly was, Rosalie's words, intentions, and wants rarely lined up. She was definitely a tricky partner to manage in bed.

Or in general, she guessed. But Zoey wouldn't have it any other way.

Rosalie crawled across the bed, laying down so her face was a few inches from Zoey's cock. Zoey reached down and gripped herself, then slapped Rosalie's face with it. Rosalie made a noise of protest, but Zoey only followed up with: "I said get to work, cock slut."

Rosalie flushed, but leaned forward, obeying instantly. She paused right before wrapping her lips around Zoey, though, as if realizing something. Her eyes flicked up to meet Zoey's, and she smirked.

Right …

Zoey couldn't cum. Literally couldn't. Rosalie could very, very easily get her revenge, if she felt like Zoey was disrespecting her—however much she obviously liked it.

Still smirking, Rosalie sank down on Zoey's cock. Zoey guessed she'd done this to herself.

Zoey groaned at the sensation of wet pressure wrapping around her length, and so did Rosalie, having had a cock shoved into her mouth-pussy for the first time. The vibration of Rosalie's noises of pleasure washed through her. Rosalie's entire body shook as her mouth-pussy was crammed with girl cock. She pushed herself down eagerly, wanting more.

"Look at me," Zoey murmured, stroking a hand through Rosalie's hair. Rosalie's eyes had fallen down to Zoey's stomach, focused on her task, and her own pleasure. Her blue gaze went back up, locking with Zoey's, and Zoey sighed. "You're so gorgeous it hurts, Rosie. I hope you know that."

Rosalie paused, then pulled off Zoey's cock. "First it's 'get to work, cock slut', then it's, 'you're so beautiful'?" Despite Rosalie's attempts to sound in control, she was blushing furiously … even more so than the insults had caused.

"Both can be true." Zoey raised an eyebrow. "And I didn't say to stop, did I? Get down there, cock slut."

Rosalie huffed, exasperated, and returned to her efforts.

A half-minute of sucking later, Rosalie pulled off again.

"I forgot something," she said. She was breathing hard, and looked upset for having had to pull Zoey's cock from her throat. She gripped Zoey's cock and lined up her hand to its base. She marked the position with her thumb, then moved her hand up.

Though she was perplexed at what Rosalie was doing, she was distracted by something else: the bright red lipstick marks that Rosalie's efforts had left on her cock. They were scattered in various places, smudges of red against her skin. Shit, she could get used to seeing that. Just another perk of an already amazing date.

"Perfect," Rosalie said. "I have my measurements." Without fanfare, she took Zoey in her throat again.

Zoey put two and two together. So, Rosalie wanted to see how much Zoey grew with every 'repressed' orgasm. Would it even be a spurt, or would it happen slowly, the longer Rosalie kept Zoey hovering near a peak? She'd be finding out soon. Rosalie's sloppy efforts and gagging noises were quickly drawing Zoey to that boiling edge.

Her situation hadn't fully settled in. The upcoming torture. Everything felt normal so far … and the building orgasm felt familiar. Nothing amiss. What would happen, when she reached that peak? She'd just be stuck there? Or would the feeling pass, the ring eating it, and returning her to a more reasonable level of pleasure?

Zoey didn't think she was in for the more pleasant of those two options. And by the determination on Rosalie's face, she was hoping Zoey wasn't. She wanted to see Zoey squirm and whine.

Which, fair. Zoey wished there was an item she could use on Rosalie with a similar effect. The things she'd be able to get Rosalie to say … she might actually die from shame, when she came down.

Though, the mirror, Zoey thought. There was a way to get a cock on Rosalie—just with Zoey's body. She might have to ask Delta to borrow it.

Zoey stared down her body as Rosalie choked on her cock. She was in for some torture … but for now, she sighed and enjoyed the sight.

Chapter 73

Chapter Text

Normally, Zoey would try to hold off on how quickly she let the euphoria pooling in her stomach grow, either for her partner's pleasure or for her own, but in this instance, as Rosalie bobbed up and down her cock, filling the air with loud squelching noises, she let Rosalie's hard work yield fruit. She basked in the sensation, not holding off at all, letting Rosalie's tight throat-muscles massage her length and coax that burning pool of heat closer to its apex.

The oral-fixation stud worked away on Rosalie as much as her tongue and throat worked away on Zoey. Rosalie had always been enthusiastic—if that word did it justice—when it came to pleasuring Zoey with her mouth, but now, spurred on by the stud's effect, Rosalie was twice as eager. Her throat acted as a second pussy, and she bobbed up and down, pleasuring herself as much as she was Zoey.

Zoey groaned as the pleasure built. She started to work with Rosalie, bucking her hips into Rosalie's mouth at the same time she bobbed. Since she wasn't fighting her climax away, it was arriving quickly—almost as quickly as Rosalie's own, by the looks of things, and the sounds she was making.

Rosalie pulled herself off, gasping for air. Zoey realized she'd been down there for a while. Still, she was disappointed at the sudden lack of pleasure.

Rosalie sat up, then repositioned herself on the bed. She hung her head off the edge, face upside down. "Hurry up," she panted, opening her mouth.

Zoey did as instructed. She climbed off the bed and shuffled over to Rosalie, gripping her wet cock and lining it up to Rosalie's mouth, who swallowed her eagerly.

She pushed forward, watching Rosalie's throat bend outward as her cock filled it. She also admired—briefly, before it was enveloped—the bright red lipstick smearing her length. Seriously, such a great sight. She was going to have to encourage Rosalie to wear it more often.

Rosalie had already had her throat opened up from her efforts earlier, so Zoey didn't ease into things. She gripped the side of Rosalie's head for stabilization, then started jerking in and out. There was something euphoric about the sloppy squelching noises Rosalie's throat made as it was used. And, Rosalie was getting better. She choked less with Zoey's violent use, her rough thrusting not causing her gag reflex to fight back as much as it had, the first few times.

For close to a minute, she watched Rosalie's throat bend outward, panting in pleasure as her cock filled it up. Rosalie's motions grew more frantic, her body squirming in place as her mouth pussy took Zoey's cock. Zoey might've been worried she needed air, but she knew Rosalie would tap her thigh to let her know. No, the frantic motions meant she was getting close.

Rosalie's back arched, and Zoey picked up speed, growling in animalistic excitement. She gripped Rosalie's head even tighter and pumped with everything she had, pistoning with violent force—which, by Rosalie's thrashing, she enjoyed. Her hands scrambled at the bedsheets, body twisting left and right as her orgasm washed over her.

Like usual, seeing Rosalie thrown over the edge did the same to Zoey.

Zoey groaned as—

As the heat reached—

Zoey whined, the promised climax not arriving. The pounding, curling heat in her stomach and caressing her cock coursed through her, pleasurable enough to be nearly painful, but distinctly not orgasm. Zoey's body tried to rectify the problem. She'd already been slamming into Rosalie's throat as quickly as she could, but she found a second bastion of strength. She needed relief. She needed that orgasmic peak to wash through her.

The squelching noises became even louder as Zoey rutted like an animal, desperately trying to find relief. It was so close. It wasn't fair.

Almost painful became actually painful. She knew what was happening, but it didn't matter. She just had to work a little harder. A little … harder …

Rosalie's shaking orgasm passed, and she patted on Zoey's thighs to stop. She'd already let Zoey go for a shockingly long time, but she did need to breathe.

Zoey despaired. Stop using Rosalie's throat? She couldn't. She just needed a few more thrusts, and that burning euphoria would arrive. She slapped her hips against Rosalie's face, stuffing her throat full as she tried to finish off. But it wasn't working. Her entire body burned.

She was melting with a pleasure that was turning to agony. Her climax refused to arrive.

Rosalie patted her thighs, more firmly.

Somehow, Zoey groaned and pulled herself out. She managed that, but not to stop satisfying herself. Her two hands replaced Rosalie's throat, and she jerked herself off, trying to coax out an orgasm that refused to come. Rosalie's saliva acted as lubricant, letting Zoey's powerful grip massage up and down her cock. She focused on the tip, trying to force herself to cum.

It should've worked. She tried so desperately. She fell back into the hardwood floor, arching her hips with a frantic need to climax. But no matter how quickly or expertly she milked herself, it didn't come.

Finally, after an agonizing several minutes—what felt like years—she collapsed, panting and dizzy, painfully unsatisfied.

She lay that way for a while, exhausted in a way even her most thorough sessions didn't leave her. Her cock throbbed angrily, needing more—but she let it stay unsatisfied, refused to return her grip to its length, because the burning waves of pleasure (pleasure? Not so much by that point) were starting to recede.

Eventually, soft lips pressed into Zoey's own, and even exhausted, her body responded. She kissed back, the idea it was Rosalie—her girlfriend—kissing her somehow washing away the exhaustion. For a few moments, she eagerly explored her tongue around Rosalie's mouth, savoring her taste. It managed to distract her, the last of the painful pleasure fading.

"With that kind of reaction," Rosalie murmured, pulling back, her hot breath washing across Zoey's face. Zoey basked in it, not opening her eyes. "I almost feel bad. That didn't look fun."

Zoey's breathing had calmed somewhat, but she was still panting. "I should've just stopped." Trying to force it had only made things worse.

"Maybe. But look how well you did."

A hand wrapped around Zoey's cock, which she groaned at. It was still sensitive, but at least it didn't start the crashing, painful waves of half-orgasm again. Zoey cracked an eye open, looking to see what Rosalie meant.

Sure enough, the item had worked. Zoey's desperate attempts to work herself to climax had activated the item. The cock-ring had absorbed the energy and redirected it.

She'd put on at least four inches. She wasn't sure how much thicker her cock had gotten, but enough Zoey could tell the difference.

"Shit," Zoey breathed. "That's, uh. That's something."

Eighteen inches of girl cock. Fourteen was ridiculous, and a tight fit even with her skill, so would Rosalie even be able to get it inside her, now? Would Zoey's skill let her any sized cock fit into her partner? Surely at some point, she'd need to rely on an additional aid—something like the stretchiness potion she had planned.

"If that was too much, we don't have to keep going," Rosalie said.

Zoey studied her girlfriend for a second, then snorted. "You almost kept the disappoint out of your voice."

Rosalie blushed, then insisted: "I'm serious. Was that fine?"

"Near the end?" Zoey asked. She shivered. "Well. It got worse and worse. Just stop me, next time. Pin me down, or something."

"Okay. I should've done that in the first place. You weren't having fun at the end."

"It's fine. And, I imagine it was … a show." If she'd seen Rosalie writhing on the ground, lost in overwhelming ecstasy and frantically trying to work herself to orgasm, she might have been too compromised to act rationally too.

She rolled over, tumbling Rosalie into the ground. Her cock—even more oversized now—laid flat against her body. It pulsed with the contact. It hadn't fully calmed from earlier.

"I don't blame you. But yeah. Definitely stop me." She kissed Rosalie, partly to show there was no hard feelings, and partly because her flushed expression had forced her to. How could she ever resist the urge to kiss a blushing Rosalie?

Rosalie groaned and writhed on the floor, which caught Zoey off guard. Right … Rosalie still had the mouth stud in. Kissing her was the same as eating her out. Zoey grinned, then pulled back.

"You're still picking the positions," Rosalie murmured, panting. Prompting her to get back to things. She was ready for round two.

Zoey took Rosalie's hand, guiding them off the floor and back onto the bed. Zoey laid down flat, pulling Rosalie on top of her, breasts pressed into each other's, with her cock sticking between Rosalie's thighs and into the air.

Almost by instinct, Rosalie crossed her heels and tensed her thighs, squeezing soft skin against Zoey's cock. Rosalie humped slowly up and down, caressing her length with powerful muscles. It was unfair how strong Rosalie's legs were—for obvious reasons, considering her career and training. But just as soft as powerful.

"I wanted to keep kissing," Zoey murmured, explaining her chosen position. With Rosalie laid atop her, their faces were only inches away, and Rosalie's entire body pressed down on her own. Somehow, she wanted more skin contact. "Take the stud out?"

Rosalie did so.

"You're intoxicating to be around, you know," Zoey said. "You set me on fire." She kissed Rosalie, then tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. Rosalie didn't moan, with the stud no longer in, but that was fine. She wanted to talk, which was why she'd asked Rosalie to take it out. "Every part of you is perfect. Unfairly so."

"Zoey," Rosalie murmured back, almost chastising—telling her to stop with the over-the-top flattery. She was embarrassed … but also wanted more. Zoey could read it on her face.

"I'm not using flattery to get what I want," Zoey told her. "You're already taking care of me, aren't you? So you can't use that excuse. You have to accept that I'm telling the truth, just because I want to."

She kissed her again. Rosalie's taste would never stop being intoxicating. She resurfaced to breathe, and Zoey had to organize her thoughts again, Rosalie's kiss having scattered them.

"I still can't believe I'm lucky enough to be around you. Much less call you my girlfriend."

"Stop saying things like that …"

Another kiss. Rosalie's thighs caressed her in a slow, coaxing motion. Not frantically. They'd taken a slower, sensual pace. Rosalie wanted her to keep going, to keep laying the compliments on, so she didn't distract Zoey with her competent, powerful thighs. Zoey grinned, then pulled back for breath after a long, eager minute of exploring each other's mouths.

"It's not just your body," Zoey said, pressing her forehead into Rosalie's. "You better not think that. It's you. Your drive. The kindness you can't quite stamp down. How you blush at everything … like now, when all I'm doing is telling you the truth."

Rosalie kissed her, cutting her off. Apparently she'd taken it too far, and Rosalie's embarrassment had won out. Zoey smiled into the kiss.

Rosalie separated, then pressed her forehead into Zoey's shoulder. Her hips picked up speed, working her thighs up and down with more alacrity. "I said, stop saying things like that," she murmured into her shoulder. "I'm going to be torturing you for the next hour, remember? You'll make me feel bad."

"The next hour?"

Rosalie kissed Zoey's neck. "I won't let it go too far, like the first time. I'll take good care of you." She leaned up, bringing her lips close to Zoey's ear. "And in payment, at the end, you can finish inside."

Well. That sounded like a deal to Zoey.

Chapter 74

Chapter Text

Rosalie held true to her promise. She made Zoey suffer.

It was mostly made up by how Zoey got to do what she wanted. Rosalie attended to her needs carefully and with enthusiasm. For nearly an hour, Zoey thrust between or into her thighs, tits, hands, mouth, and pussy. The last one—full indulgence—she avoided after the first time. Being inside Rosalie was too exciting, and exciting meant painful, considering how the band of metal on the base of her cock was stopping her from finishing.

Fortunately, Rosalie could overpower her and still her frantic rutting. It wasn't fun, dangling over that edge and being unable to throw herself off, but unlike the first time, Zoey didn't torture herself for more than a full minute, desperately trying to reach a climax that wouldn't come. It was painful—as much as it was pleasurable—but it wasn't unbearable.

Or, it kind of was. But in a good way? It was impossible to describe Rosalie giving her a titjob as a bad thing, even if climax never came.

Her cock grew, bit by bit. Not all at once, or as fast as the first session. Zoey had grown a full four inches because she'd jerked herself off until she felt like she was melting, unable to find relief. It had been awful, but she hadn't been able to stop herself. With Rosalie there to play guard, progress was slower, but steady—and not as excruciating. The ring grew in pace with her, otherwise things would've become rather untenable. But it took Zoey's growth in pace, increasing in size itself.

Which led them to this moment.

Zoey slapped her cock down onto Rosalie's stomach. It had always been impressive laid out against her petite blonde teammate, but now, at somewhere around twenty two inches, it was an almost comical size. It didn't only reach up well past her belly button, but it reached past her sternum, to her collarbone, even. Zoey could keep the base where Rosalie's pussy was, and Rosalie could give her a titjob. Insane. The sight made her dizzy.

"It won't fit," Zoey said flatly. She needed to be the voice of reason here. The excitement in Rosalie's eye was making it obvious she wasn't thinking clearly. She never did, caught up in this sort of thing. And to think she was the one who had gotten off five or six times, and so ought to have a clearer mind. Zoey only had gotten off once, and was finding it hard to keep her thoughts straight. But even so, she had a clearer mind than Rosalie. "It's too big, Rosie."

Despite her words, Zoey pushed her hips forward, then pulled backward, rubbing her cock along the length of Rosalie's body. She was, despite trying to be reasonable, as transfixed as her partner. Maybe the torture had been worth it, when this was the sight that rewarded her.

And not even sight. She got to go in. And finish inside, too.

Definitely worth it.

"It reaches your collarbone," Zoey said, and for all her tone of protest, her breath was coming faster. "It won't fit. Literally. Delta had that potion, but we don't."

"It's worth a try." Rosalie had a crazy look in her eyes, growing by the second. "You have that skill."

"And that's not mentioning how thick it is. It's as big as my fist." That wasn't even an exaggeration. Under normal circumstances, it would tear Rosalie in two. She had a skill that helped with this sort of thing, but there was no way it would be enough. Right?

"We'll have to make do," Rosalie murmured. "I'll just have to adjust."

"Adjust." Zoey lifted her cock up and slapped it back down. The loud clap emphasized her point, but she voiced it out loud. "Adjust to this?"

Rather than discouraging Rosalie, the impact of Zoey's cock only seemed to excite her. She seemed eager at the prospect she wouldn't adjust. That she might be torn in two.

"Fine," Zoey said. "But you're topping." She was worried she wouldn't be able to control herself. An hour of teasing had left a burning sensation under her skin. Sure, Rosalie could pin her down, overpower her easily, but she'd rather that not happen. Making herself uncomfortable was one thing, but Rosalie, another entirely.

Rosalie didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed Zoey and rolled her over, sitting on top of her. For a second, she sat on Zoey's thighs and admired how Zoey's cock reached up to her collarbone. Length wise, it was as impressive as the toy Delta had ridden. Not as wide, though. If it went in, it would still stuff Rosalie silly. There would definitely be a clear outline as it bulged her outward. Zoey's breath came faster at the idea.

Rosalie kissed the tip, getting precum on her lips, which she cleaned off with a swipe of her tongue. She stood—literally stood, because that was the easiest way to handle things—and lined Zoey up to her entrance. Zoey was struck by the absurd sight. Twenty something inches. Seriously, what the hell.

And why did it turn her on so much?

Pretty obvious why. But still.

"Ready?" Rosalie asked.

"I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to ask you that."

Rosalie lowered herself down. Zoey's enormous cock head pressed into her pussy. Rosalie ground against her, spreading herself slowly. She sucked in a breath of air, a sound of pain and excitement. Zoey also groaned. She fought against the urge to buck upward and bury herself into Rosalie's tight, wet pussy. It wasn't the easiest task, with how long she'd been played with, teased, and denied.

"Fuck," Rosalie muttered. "It's so big." She rubbed back and forth, digging Zoey's cockhead a millimeter further with each rocking movement. Zoey felt her member being enveloped, slowly. Rosalie whined as the tip finally popped in—or at least the top half of it. She still had some stretching to deal with before Zoey would be all the way in.

Gritting her teeth, and making a whining noise deep in her throat, Rosalie forced herself lower. A tight heat wrapped around Zoey, and Zoey groaned, arching her back. The need to slap upward was overwhelming, but she forced herself to let Rosalie set the pace. Even more than normal, she couldn't just go at it.

Her cock head finished going in. Rosalie gasped at the invasion, then sighed, the growing pressure finally ceasing—though the wince on her face said she definitely hadn't adjusted. That she'd gotten Zoey in at all was shocking. Zoey's skill must be more willing to help things along than she thought. It must scale with her size, because even her previous thickness had been a tight fit, so its new girth really, really shouldn't have fit.

Zoey watched as her oversized cock inched up Rosalie. Working eagerly, and panting with exertion and pleasure, she lowered herself down. A thick bulge pushed her stomach outward. It hit her belly button, then kept going. At the bottom of her rib cage, Rosalie had managed to get halfway down, or thereabout.

"Still so much," Rosalie breathed.

How did she sound excited about that?

Instead of continuing her advance, Rosalie worked herself up and down the top half of Zoey's cock, pumping herself full in an effort to adjust to things, to give time for Zoey's skill to work. Zoey's cock bulged outward wherever it went, making a clear outline on Rosalie's stomach with the upward and downward motion. Rosalie placed a hand on the bulge, tracking it as it invaded her. Each bounce had a moan escaping her lips.

Finally, Rosalie continued her descent. The bulge went past the bottom of her ribcage, invading up to the base of her breasts. Rosalie groaned as she pushed herself down a few more inches, and the bulge appeared between her breasts.

"Guess … guess we don't need the potion," Rosalie panted. "Fuck, I'm so full."

Zoey's skill must be fudging the details of how anatomy worked, same as the potion, because the amount of cock Rosalie had inside her really shouldn't be possible. Not that Zoey was protesting. She leaned forward and rubbed Rosalie's stomach, feeling her own cock. Rosalie also rubbed, but higher up—between her breasts, playing with Zoey's sensitive tip.

It was almost too much. Zoey still had the cock ring on, so she didn't want to let herself reach climax. Or, almost-climax. That'd mean they would have to stop, and Zoey didn't want to stop. So she fought the sensation away.

"Just a few more inches," Zoey breathed.

Rosalie took a breath, then plunged down, slapping her ass into Zoey's thighs. Zoey's cock finished its invasion, the bulge pushing up to just beneath her collarbone. Rosalie moaned, and so did Zoey. The two of them shook with pleasure, and Zoey desperately fought the burning climax threatening to arrive. She'd been teased for too long.

"All the way," Rosalie said, rubbing Zoey's cockhead. "It wasn't that bad." She panted heavily. It'd been an ordeal for her, but her words were laced with pride. "And look at this." Rosalie squeezed her tits together, pushing them toward Zoey's cock. She rubbed up and down, giving her a titjob while Zoey was still inside her.

Zoey grabbed Rosalie's hips and bucked into her, needing friction. The lewd display—and that Rosalie had finished her slow advance—had removed Zoey's self control. She wanted to pump into Rosalie.

The bedframe creaked as Zoey's hips moved in pace with Rosalie's. Rosalie bounced atop her, using her tits to massage Zoey's cock even as Zoey was inside her. She had a wild look in her eyes, lost to lust. The same as Zoey. Seeing Rosalie stuffed with twenty inches of girl cock was too much to resist. Even more than the event back at the second shard, because this was her cock, not a toy. She felt every coaxing inch of it—all the bumps and soft, wet pressure of Rosalie's pussy. And the noises Rosalie was making. Zoey's cock was almost too much for her, by the sound of things. She whined and groaned atop Zoey, bouncing and sending platinum hair fluttering.

Zoey growled and rolled over, pushing Rosalie into the bed, so she could pump into her with better leverage. Zoey pressed her hands into the bulge of her cock, on Rosalie's stomach, massaging herself as she thrust in and out of the tight girl beneath her. Rosalie kept the titjob going, working desperately to milk the giant cock inside her.

"You said I could finish inside. That I could fill you up."

"I can break the item's effect, whenever," Rosalie panted. "But hold off. Wait until you're already there, and it's stopping you. I'll get more that way. And I want as much as you can give."

Zoey pumped her hips, slapping into Rosalie's lower half. Her stomach bulged with each stroke, nearly two feet of girl cock stuffing her. More than any time tonight, Zoey's motions grew frenetic. She pistoned into her girlfriend with everything she had.

This was her chance to stuff Rosalie like that shard toy had Delta. To fill Rosalie up until her stomach bulged outward with her seed. Maybe even the precaution of a morning after potion wouldn't be able to stop her from getting pregnant, then. She just had to work hard enough. Had to give her every sticky spurt she could manage, until Rosalie's tummy pressed outward with the size of her load. Until she had so much cum inside her that pregnancy was inevitable.

Zoey rammed up against that invisible wall, her climax refusing to arrive. Zoey growled and leaned forward, pumping faster. Rosalie cried out with the violence of her thrusting. Her hands scrambled against bedsheets, no longer pleasuring Zoey's cock with her tits. Her back arched as Zoey's cock brought her to climax—

And Rosalie let her arrive, too.

The block disappeared, the iron band wrapped around the base of Zoey's cock no longer stopping her from cumming. Ecstasy arrived, and Zoey's cock clenched. She spurted hot waves of sticky string into Rosalie. She felt every ejection course through her cock. The first few spurts—Zoey still pumping—didn't have any noticeable effect. But as Zoey kept going and going, Rosalie's stomach filled up. The bulge of Zoey's cock across her body started to disappear as liquid pushed her stomach outward.

Seeing it, Zoey worked harder. She pumped cum into her girlfriend until she looked months pregnant, then kept going, kept filling her with her seed. Rosalie shook on the bed, coming apart with her own euphoria.

Finally, her muscles shaky from the heat that had washed over her, Zoey admired her handiwork. As she'd wanted, she had filled Rosalie up until her stomach bulged. That roundness was from Zoey's cum. Zoey ran a hand across it, fascinated. Rosalie, hazy-looking, did the same.

"I almost don't want to pull out," Zoey said, wonderingly. Then, the mind-erasing pleasure withdrawing from her, letting exhausted, rational thoughts start to return. "Uh. Maybe I shouldn't. How are we going to clean that?" When Zoey pulled out, all that cum would come spilling out onto the sheets. Then again, they'd already made a mess of things.

Rosalie kept running a hand across her stomach. "You liked it, I'm taking it."

"You liked it," Zoey said, amused. It was Rosalie's enthusiasm that had milked her so dry.

"Mm," Rosalie said, absently. No direct answer—her orgasm had come and gone, so the embarrassing things she could say so easily in the moment wouldn't show, now. "Take me to the shower. That's our best option, I guess."

Laughing, Zoey picked Rosalie up. Her distended stomach pressed into Zoey's, and fuck, it made her cock stir again inside Rosalie. She was so hot, stuffed like this. Zoey kissed her, which Rosalie eagerly returned.

Zoey did as told, waddling the two of them over to the bathroom.

Chapter 75

Chapter Text

Sol'othuan, Fourth Herald to the Devourer—or as Sol called her, Mother—strolled the vine-encrusted hallways of crumbling stone, intrigued at the novelty of the world her people had invaded.

She had always been curious—her people called it 'sentimental'—for her kind. Even the lesser worlds they conquered were fascinating. This one? Unique even to that standard. Fractured, with such curious, artificial structure imposed onto it. Workings of a Prime, possibly several in tandem. Fascinating.

It felt, to be honest, a transgression to be consuming such delicate designs. But food was food. And the structure thrummed with energy, so much she could eat until she was full a hundred times over. Enough energy that she was surprised her people kept themselves in check, gnawing at the edges rather than gorging themselves completely. Even Sol was tempted, and she had more restraint than most.

But Mother had commanded them not to, so they didn't. For now, they gnawed.

Mother preferred a subtle touch. A world this powerful—inhabited by sapient races, and patroned by one or several Primes—required weakening before the Famished could lift their inhibitions. Mother was more powerful than many of her peers—the Prime, those who had ascended to divinity—but her children were not. And her children, Sol among those numbers, though in a more literal sense of 'child', were the invaders, not Mother. Mother was simply … their overseer. She couldn't join in the feast directly. All Primes were bound. Near infinite in strength, but limited in scope.

Sol hadn't explored much of this world. Mother had kept her secluded on their arrival, not allowing her to join the initial breach. She had wanted to ensure they had gone unnoticed, or at least, uncontested.

Thus far, Sol had contained herself to the deepest reaches of the fractured dimension realms that composed this strange world. She'd yet to find people down here. Real ones, at least.

She'd found the simulacrums. A few of them. These smaller realms—like she found herself in now—always had one.

For that matter, one of the simulacrums watched her now.

The perplexing half-people that championed each of these 'shards' were bizarre. Were they creations of the Prime? They were people … but not. False in some way. An intuition hard to describe.

They were powerful, though. Not strong enough to pose a threat to Sol—or most of the Famished—but still shockingly dense with energy. Rulers of their respective domains. 'Bosses' of their 'shards', as the local terminology went.

They shared that power with the shard itself. Which meant as Sol snacked away, she was eating the simulacrum, too, piece by piece. That probably explained the horrified, curious gaze.

'Gaze'. Not quite right. It could see her—sense her—but not directly. The simulacrum had an awareness of its shard, but Sol could elude it physically. They had yet to meet. She intended to keep it that way.

The lack of company—besides the watching false-eyes of the simulacrum—didn't bother her. Sol had always found more interest in things than people. And there was so much to marvel over, here.

And so much to eat.

Sol traced a finger down a length of wood, fascinated. The power humming in the material wasn't the only thing she marveled over. Hands … fingers … her new body. In the same way her people absorbed memories and concepts from the creations they ate, they appropriated forms. This one was comfortable, though she was still clumsy in it.

Human, the species was called. One of the sapient races inhabiting this world. Had Mother ever eaten a human world? Odds seemed high. Mother was old, even for a Prime, and the Famished had worked through many, many worlds. Most they ate didn't have sapient life, as those were less likely to have a patron. Defending Primes. Thus, easier pickings.

But this one had been too dense with essence to resist. And … according to Mother … was seemingly abandoned. Or half-abandoned. Its patron Primes weren't watching over it as they should. Disinterest? Its state of decay—how it had been fractured into so many pieces—even before her people had arrived, indicated something of the sort. But why? Why had such a complex creation been abandoned, left to decay?

Such intriguing questions. Sol loved questions. Frequently, more than the answers. Answers could be … disappointing.

She studied the magic imbued into the wood. Structured magic was rare. Or, she'd been told. She didn't know first-hand. Sol was young for her kind, having only lived through two Devourings. But she'd been told stories, and had referenced the archives to confirm them.

Sometimes it felt like Sol was the only of her people to do so. Sometimes, if she were brutally honest, it felt like their people were more savage than the ones they ate. They glutted themselves but cared for little else.

Perhaps that was proof of how little 'sophistication' mattered. If savagery triumphed, wasn't that the trait worth celebrating?

Survival—that which persisted—was holy, and little else.

She brushed away her wandering thoughts, focusing on the curious object in front of her. Her hand rested on a wooden box, the item which she'd been tracing a finger across, admiring, and inspecting. Its cover was discarded, tossed to the side, its securing nails ripped out. Some crusted substance pooled at the bottom, dried, which her nose—alien senses were always intriguing—protested at being exposed to.

Curious, she broke off a chunk of the coffin—(Coffin. That was the word that had evaded her. It took time for an alien lexicon to digest)—and inspected it. She was tempted, like usual, to bite into the object, to eat the delicate workings imbued into it.

For some reason, this coffin was special compared to the three others in the room. Imbued more heavily. Sol couldn't begin to guess why. Likely, it served some essential purpose to the shard. Hence, why she resisted the urge to eat it. She would feast on less important-looking workings, as to not break the system so carefully designed. She would rather not the shard break entirely.

Others of her kind wouldn't have been so discretionary. But Sol didn't want to disturb the complex magic that kept this pocket dimension functioning. She wanted to study it. Some of the others cared little for that sort of thing. Apparently, even, their indiscreet gnawing had sent some shards haywire, enough to cause a buzz among the locals. They obviously didn't know the Famished were here—or presumably what the Famished even were—but her sibling's brutish methodology meant their secret wouldn't be kept long.

Unless Mother intervened and suggested a defter hand, at least. But she hadn't yet, so Sol didn't think she would. Again, despite being patroned—and intricately created—this world was in a surprising state of decay. A defter touch likely wasn't necessary. It was a discarded belonging. The perfect food for scavengers.

For a moment longer, Sol lingered there, poring over the complex magic comprising the coffin. She let the piece of coffin clatter to the floor, satisfied—though having gleaned little—then turned and left.

She walked through the corridors of the stone structure. Vines shied from her. Bizarre creatures—even less 'real' than the simulacrum—scampered away. Sol observed all this with fascination. Were her siblings really not interested? They saw the feast and engorged, but such an odd feast, this one was. How were they so incurious?

The back of Sol's neck itched, announcing the simulacrum's arrival, and Sol loosened her physical form, melding into the Passage.

A second later, a creature, human looking, but made of green goo, padded into Sol's hallway. She stood there for a moment, looking around, brow furrowed in an emotion that took Sol several seconds to place as confusion.

Alien emotions, and recognizing them … also always a novelty.

"I know you're there," the goo-girl called into the empty hallway. She looked straight through Sol, unable to see her, Sol having stepped almost entirely into the Passage. Though she possessed a passive awareness of her domain that meant she felt Sol, she couldn't see her, not when she'd melded. "What are you? And … and what are you doing to me?"

Sol briefly considered reassuring the not-really-a-person. Sol didn't intend to eat her—yet, at least—and a conversation with a local would go a long way to understanding. But, direct interaction with sapients went against Mother's few mandates. Better to not disobey her. Sol could patch comprehension together herself, eventually. She thought she was starting to glean the purposes of the various constructs.

"Please?" the goo-girl called into the empty hallway. "You're … hurting me. I can't fix what you're doing."

The plea—delivered so earnestly—stunned Sol, though it shouldn't have. Briefly, Sol was frustrated with herself. This was why her people called her sentimental.

This was how her people survived. They ate. Sol needed food. It was the same cycle for all living beings. And this thing wasn't even a real person. Whatever that meant. Its existence still perplexed her.

And in the end, their society would remain. A Devouring wasn't a desolation. The Famished never ate to total destruction. They left an ember, which, most of the time, grew back into the blaze it had once been. It was the way of the Cycle.

When Sol still didn't reply, the simulacrum looked around, then deflated. She continued down the intersecting hallway, disappearing into the stretching darkness. Sol felt her go, then reformed, unmelding from the Passage.

It was an odd game they were playing, both knowing of each other, but Sol refusing to meet. She had no choice. Mother mandated the Famished not to interact. Not until the world was properly weakened. At which point, the feast would begin.

Though, Sol was a favored daughter … maybe she could get away with things others couldn't. Maybe she could have one discussion? The bizarre creature wasn't even a real person, so perhaps Mother's mandates didn't apply. Flimsy reasoning, but maybe she could argue it.

Ah, but she shouldn't.

Besides, discovery was half the fun. She didn't want the answers handed to her.

She returned to her exploration.

Chapter 76

Chapter Text

Zoey drifted to consciousness with a becoming-familiar warmth pressed into her. Cracking her eyes open, the sight of Rosalie's platinum-blonde hair met her. Zoey was snuggled into her, playing the big spoon. She sighed in satisfaction and hugged Rosalie closer.

For a while she luxuriated in Rosalie's warmth. In her girlfriend's warmth. The word made her heart skip a beat. It would do that for a while.

Soon enough, Rosalie stirred too.

"Good morning, beautiful," Zoey murmured.

"Mm," Rosalie replied, stuffing her face into the pillow. "What time is it?"

"We didn't set an alarm. So … late?"

Rosalie groaned, but kept her face buried into the pillow.

She stayed that way for long enough Zoey thought she might actually go back to sleep, but then she groaned a second time and forced herself to sit. Zoey pouted, even if it was time to be getting up. They'd basked in each other's company for the better part of a day—all of last evening and well into this morning—but at the same time, that wasn't nearly enough. She wanted more. Did they really have to start their day?

Rosalie's scrunched-up face suggested she was having similar thoughts, but unlike Zoey, she had an iota of willpower. Rosalie sighed, then leaned down and kissed Zoey's forehead, before shuffling out of bed. Rosalie had no idea what the casual show of affection—coming from her—had done to Zoey. For a long moment, she lay there, stunned, turning into a pile of goo.

Eventually, an "are you joining me?" spurred her into action. She slipped out of bed and joined Rosalie in the bathroom.

One brisk, shared shower later—in which Zoey only teased Rosalie a little bit—they got dressed, then showed up in front of Delta's door. Zoey knocked. She wanted to make it a routine that the team ate breakfast together. Though, their morning had started late, so there were good odds Delta had set off.

Fortunately, though, she hadn't. After a few moments of shuffling, a loud thump, then a string of curses, a bleary-eyed Delta—long orange hair in disarray—appeared at the door. She eyed Zoey, looking annoyed, but after her attention flicked to Rosalie, she seemed to remember what last night had been. Her sour expression turned to a smirk.

"Good morning, lovebirds."

Rosalie eyed her. Even more than normal, Delta's smirk was so blatant and taunting as to make even Zoey blush. Delta shared a wall with them, and with how loud she and Rosalie had been, Delta knew—intimately—what they'd been up to.

"Morning," Zoey said. "Uh. We're heading down for breakfast. Wanna join us?"

Delta ignored Zoey, having eyes only for Rosalie, who, hilariously, was actually struggling to return her usual glare. Her cheeks were pink. Delta did have a talent in making people squirm just with a look. "Sure," she finally said, turning to Zoey. "Give me a second."

She left the door open, and Zoey and Rosalie trailed in. Rosalie didn't protest at having to wait for Delta. She hoped that wasn't just because Rosalie knew Zoey wanted her to join them, but because she was starting to see Delta as part of the group.

Delta threw on a pair of fuzzy slippers, brushed her hair so it wasn't a total disaster, then grabbed her room keys. "Kay. Let's go." She'd finish getting ready later, apparently.

Down in the dining hall, they sat at a table for four. Despite Zoey being the one seated across from Delta, Delta kept her eyes on Rosalie. She didn't say anything outright—didn't tease or taunt verbally. Instead, she kept that same smirk plastered on. And Rosalie, also like before, couldn't work up a returning glare. She ignored Delta to the best of her ability, but was losing horrendously. She squirmed in her seat.

Zoey almost felt like she should intervene in the silent war, especially since Rosalie was now officially her girlfriend, but she was enjoying the show. Seeing Rosalie squirm was cute. And by the glares Rosalie sometimes shot Zoey, too, Zoey's grinning reaction was only escalating the problem.

"Just say it, won't you?" Rosalie finally blurted out. She blushed, then stuck her chin in the air and straightened her back. "Stop smirking and say what you want to."

Delta turned to Zoey. "So. What do you have planned today?"

The offended look that appeared on Rosalie's face was priceless. She'd finally worked up the nerve to force the issue, and Delta had ignored her. Rosalie actually pouted, a reaction even Zoey had difficulty drawing. Zoey squeezed Rosalie's knee underneath the table, fighting away the humor of the situation. She didn't do a great job.

'Traitor', Rosalie's glare said.

"Sabina first, then Maddy in the afternoon," Zoey answered. "I think that's going to be the usual. The evening's open, though."

"Does that mean I get my date?"

"You already had yours," Rosalie shot at her.

"So I'm not allowed a second?"

"How about a team date?" Zoey asked, cutting things off before they got out of hand. "Or, an outing. You invited me out for drinks, right? Maybe Maddy will want to come." She glanced at Rosalie, who pursed her lips. Zoey could read her expression; she wanted to be more productive. Maybe two nights out in a row was pushing things?

"I'd be down," Delta said. "We need to meet her as a group. Should I invite her? Or you?"

"I can. During practice."

"I should get a feel for her, I suppose," Rosalie said. "It sounds like she'll be joining the team, assuming she … digests Zoey's class." She glanced at Zoey. "But I can't be going out every night. I should be training. We should be training."

"All day?" Delta asked, rolling her eyes. "We can use the evenings for ourselves."

Rosalie gave her an unimpressed look, which showed what she thought of that.

"And where do you go, anyway?" Delta asked. "To train. Why not come with me? For spars. I know the competition."

Rosalie eyed Delta. The offer to join her had been delivered with surprising earnestness, and she didn't trust that. Delta seemed to realize that too, because she paused, then smirked and fixed things: "And how about we make it more interesting? Ever play a round of strip spars?"

Zoey's interest was instantly piqued.

Rosalie, though, only seemed confused. "Strip spars?" she asked, as if genuinely not understanding what they were.

It was adorably naive. It wasn't like the name left much to interpretation. And if anything, Delta's tone should have given it away.

"Loser of each round takes off a piece of equipment." Delta leaned forward, grinning. "And let's say, overall winner gets a favor. Anything they want." The amount of innuendo packed into 'favor' was impressive even by Delta's standards.

Rosalie flushed. She looked at Zoey, incredulous. There was also a hint of a question. 'And you'd be okay with that?' the look said.

It reminded Zoey that she and Rosalie needed to have a sit-down about their relationship. Zoey didn't mind Delta hitting on Rosalie—actually hitting on her, even, not just teasing—but that was because Delta was part of the group, and Zoey was interested in Delta, which changed things. If it'd been anyone else, Zoey wouldn't have been.

Which was hypocritical, she knew, seeing how Rosalie was fine with Zoey doing whatever—and whoever—she wanted. But it was how she felt. She couldn't help that. Zoey wasn't quite as open to the idea of 'sharing' as Rosalie apparently was.

All dynamics were fine if everyone involved was happy with them, but they hadn't discussed their dynamics. It was the sort of thing best explicitly talked about, not inferred. She'd have to sit with Rosalie and figure it out. Probably Delta too, at another point, just to make sure everyone was on the same page.

"A favor from Delta," Zoey teased Rosalie, answering in a roundabout way. "Sounds useful to have, don't you think?"

"Thanks for the faith," Delta said dryly. "I mean, come on. She's good, but she's not that—" she trailed off, then frowned. "She wouldn't win every time. I'm not a pushover. It wouldn't be free."

Rosalie didn't look smug about Delta's assessment. Rosalie was better in a fight, and by a significant margin. To her, it was a given. She was better than everyone in that regard, at least for her advancement. Bizarrely, she displayed that belief, and it didn't come off as arrogant. It came with the same sort of attitude as, 'yes, I have blue eyes', or, 'yes, I have blonde hair'. A given, a fact, and ultimately inconsequential.

"As if I would want a favor from her," Rosalie said.

"Wouldn't you?" Delta asked. "I think I could change your mind, once you got a taste." She shrugged. "But that's assuming you win. I don't think you would. In a normal spar, you'd have good odds. Strip spars? I have the feeling you'd get … distracted."

Rosalie flushed, and suddenly couldn't meet Delta's eyes. Delta had struck the nail on the head. Still, Rosalie tried to retort. "Distracted? I can't imagine by what. Your irritating comments?"

"Oh?" Delta asked, leaning another few inches closer to Rosalie, who still couldn't meet her eyes. "Stripping me half-naked won't cause any problems, will it? Won't distract you at all? Well, if you're confident about that, let's play. Like Zoey said, it'll be a free favor. I guess you don't even have to ask anything gross of me. I could be your errand girl for the day." She rolled her eyes. "Means you get to be even more productive." Then, she openly leered at Rosalie. "But to make it clear, if I win, I'm making good use of my favor."

Rosalie's eyes widened, and she went an even deeper shade of red. She glanced at Zoey, who continued to watch the exchange, amused. Zoey could see on Rosalie's face that she realized she'd backed herself into a corner. After displaying so much confidence that she'd win, she had to accept.

Rosalie turned back to Delta, and seeing her smug, taunting expression, bristled.

She stuck her chin in the air. "I suppose an errand girl does sound useful."

"Perfect," Delta said, leaning back. She looked pleased she'd goaded Rosalie into it. She turned to Zoey. "I'll save the favor for when you can watch. Or we can use it together." She paused. "Because you two are a thing now, I'm taking it?"

There was more to the question than just the surface. Delta wanted to know what the acceptable dynamics were. She'd seen from Zoey's reactions that flirting with Rosalie was fine, but more? Especially alone?

Honestly, Zoey wasn't fully certain of that herself. For now, she'd rather anything that happened between Delta and Rosalie—serious, at least, like cashing in on the 'favor'—happen with her there.

But the question.

"Yeah," Zoey said, putting her hand over Rosalie's. "Girlfriends. Officially." The word made her glow, and it probably showed on her face, by the way Delta laughed. To her side, Rosalie's cheeks went pink, and she sniffed, looking away, as if fighting away her own glowing reaction.

"Good for you two. I figured, but." She shrugged. "And, in the future, the Guild's soundproofing is good, but not that good. So … you two aren't allowed to make that much noise and not invite me over. It's mean."

Zoey laughed, but Rosalie, oddly, made a strangled noise. She looked horrified, as if she'd just realized that Delta had heard much of what had gone on last night. She'd known Delta was aware they'd gone on a date, and had probably been together afterward, but that Delta knew for certain? Had heard each loud noise they'd made? Rosalie's brain did seem to shut that sort of thing away, obvious as it should've been.

"We'll keep that in mind," Zoey said, amused. A brief silence, then Zoey added: "I wish I could come watch the fight." Strip spars between Delta and Rosalie. It made alchemy lessons almost sound unappealing, and today she and Sabina be getting to the more interesting stuff. Actual brewing.

And, maybe this made Zoey a bad girlfriend, but she was kind of rooting for Delta.

A favor. What, exactly, did Delta have planned, assuming she won?

Chapter 77

Chapter Text

Sabina held the potion vial up to the air, inspecting the swirling red liquid with a critical eye. She frowned, and Zoey's heart skipped a beat. Had she messed up?

"It's poor," Sabina said, shaking the vial. "Clearly the work of an amateur."

Zoey stared at Sabina, distraught. That had been … more direct than Zoey had expected. Sabina tilted her head, pausing, as if confused at Zoey's reaction.

"You are an amateur," Sabina pointed out. "Perhaps not even that. A stark beginner. And in that regard, you've done quite well. Much better than expected." She paused. "Ah. I should have led with that. I apologize."

Zoey stared at Sabina a second longer, then laughed and relaxed. Well, she had known the tall, antlered woman for a bit now, so it wasn't like she was surprised. Sabina's lack of grace in social situations was well established. Her pride stung, still, but as Sabina had said, she was a 'stark beginner'. There wasn't anything to take offense at.

Alchemy was the sort of skill that took ages to improve at. And she'd said Zoey had done 'well' and even 'better than expected'. The flip side to Sabina's brutal and sometimes clueless honesty was that she could trust the praise. So, she'd done horribly, but all beginners were expected to be bad. And for a beginner, she'd done quite well.

"That's good," Zoey said. "Honestly, I'm just glad I got through it. I was getting worried near the middle. And then bottling, that it'd actually catalyze."

It felt like she had been tackling catastrophe after catastrophe during the brewing stage. Her rune afforded her plenty of instincts in identifying what was wrong, but much less so how to solve those problems. But even so, with minimal guidance, she'd managed a small pot of healing potions—about six vials' worth. And sure, health potions were one of the easiest recipes in existence, but progress came in small steps.

Sabina hummed in understanding. "The chaos of the brew is one of the most engaging aspects. One of the reasons I love it." At Zoey's dubious look, having found the situation quite stressful, Sabina said, "Once you get to upper-level brews, you'll understand."

"If you say so."

She'd grown an easy familiarity with Sabina over yesterday's, and now today's, lessons. Though Sabina remained as cool and clinical as ever, the two of them were starting to build a repertoire, a comfort around each other.

"Now," Sabina said. "Let's get cleaned up and try something more complex. Go ahead and throw that out."

The health potions Zoey had made were effectively worthless, and so Zoey had known it would be thrown out rather than saved and sold as merchandise, but she winced anyway. Sabina's frankness was endearing most of the time, but not all the time. She couldn't have put it slightly more delicately? That was Zoey's first brew ever … and straight into the sink, disposed of? It made sense, but still. Oh well.

She and Sabina started cleaning the many utensils and equipment they'd dirtied while brewing. While scrubbing down the equipment and scrubbing out the vials, Zoey brought up a topic she'd been chewing over.

"How much do alchemy runes vary, anyways?" Sink-water poured down as a backdrop noise. Zoey scraped and scrubbed while Sabina dried and laid the tools out on racks.

"You'll need to be more specific."

"You say that a lot."

"Because you're vague a lot," Sabina said pointedly.

Zoey laughed, and while Sabina didn't do so—or even smile—Zoey was learning to read the granite-expressioned woman. The quick retort was playful, by Sabina standards, even if it lacked the usual indicators.

"Can a person's overall class affect their alchemy rune?" Zoey tried again. "Their 'path', or whatever."

Zoey had been more specific, like Sabina had asked, but Zoey also winced at doing so. Because Sabina was a brilliant woman, and so, when Zoey asked questions like these, she always read the intent behind them.

Zoey had asked whether her class affected her alchemy rune. And Sabina had surely deduced what Zoey's class was, at least in roundabout terms. The lewd nature of it. She had dragged home several bizarrely sexual alchemy regents. And Zoey's bulge—the fourteen inch monster—meant her other not-so-typical circumstances were on display, too.

So, Sabina knew where Zoey was going with the question. Indeed, by the sideways glance Sabina shot her, she definitely had. Not much got past her, where deduction was required.

Sabina sighed. She set the utensil she'd been cleaning aside, then dried her hands. "That's it. Follow me."

"Huh?"

"You've been asking similar questions constantly. Both today and this morning. So, let's sate your curiosity. Follow me."

"Huh?" she repeated, cheeks coloring. Like she'd figured, she'd been seen through in an instant. How embarrassing. "I was just—"

Sabina waved her hand, cutting Zoey off. "Follow me," she said for the third time.

Perplexed, Zoey dried off her hands and followed Sabina. The rest of the uncleaned equipment went forgotten, a distinctly not Sabina action. While her store was nearly in disrepair, her equipment she kept meticulous care of—as expected of a dedicated scientist.

She followed Sabina out of her laboratory, into the storefront, and through a different door, which led to a staircase. Sabina guided her up into her living quarters, which sat on top of the alchemy shop. Zoey hadn't ever been here. Obviously. She'd only known Sabina a few days, and been apprenticed to her for two, so of course she'd never been to Sabina's bedroom.

But still. What was going on? What did this have to do with Zoey's question?

Her bedroom wasn't in much better condition than her store. She didn't have a bedframe, even. A mattress laid on the floor, blanket tossed to the side. She had a single pillow. Piled next to the mattress was heaps of books, notebooks, and papers. A sloppy academic, the image of Sabina was reinforced for the hundredth time. Chalkboards were tucked to the side of the room, with hasty diagrams and cramped script she couldn't read, both because of how sloppy it was and by how quickly she was led through the room. Sabina guided her through in a few short seconds, ushering Zoey through a second doorway.

Inside, Zoey gaped.

The walls were painted a deep, sensual red, and the light inside the newest room was dim, with a pink hue. The lighting dimmed further, Sabina closing the door behind them. And the most shocking part: at the center, a metal table sat, adorned with straps at the feet, hands, and neck. A mirror hung from the ceiling, pointing down—so someone could sit in the chair and look at what was happening to them.

"Sit," Sabina said.

Zoey gaped at her.

"I don't like repeating myself," Sabina said.

Numbly, she did as told. She sat, the cold bite of the metal piercing even through her clothing. She rested her arms on either of the armrests, and Sabina walked to her side, deftly strapping them down. She let it happen.

She idly tested how strong they were. Tugging, she found her arms firmly locked in place.

What … the hell?

What was happening? And why had she listened to Sabina's commands so automatically? Let herself be strapped down, with maybe a little too much trust?

Because she was, as a second test confirmed, very locked down.

This room. It didn't leave much up to interpretation. She looked around, stunned, at the furniture. A shelf was filled with sex toys, many of which Zoey couldn't identify. A metal rack was tucked in the corner, the sort of contraption a person would be tied up and hung from. All sorts of restraints and leather straps scattered the room. Zoey looked up, and in the ceiling-mirror's reflection, she saw her wide-eyed expression—and Sabina, snapping on a pair of clinical white gloves.

"You're distracted," Sabina said matter-of-factly. "I've caught you staring at least a dozen times. This is a problem. I can't have a distracted student. So, I will rectify this issue, and in the process, perhaps we can answer some of your questions."

"My … rune," Zoey said dumbly. "How it might differ from a normal alchemist's."

"Indeed." Having finished donning her gloves, Sabina tugged off her lab coat, revealing her daily clothes. As her curvaceousness even in the unflattering work wear had suggested, she had a lot going on.

The sight of Sabina undressing, even in a tiny, irrelevant way, hammered in, finally, what was happening. Zoey's cock stirred, swelling in her pants.

Sabina noted it, expression not changing. She approached, arriving to Zoey's side. "Let me preface things," she said. "In most circumstances, I prefer to extract pleasure, not experience it myself. This will be one sided." She moved down Zoey's body and tugged Zoey's legs into position, strapping those down, too. "This is fine?"

It took her several moments to find a response. "Uh. Yeah. Okay." She was reeling from the twist in events.

Seriously. Where had this come from? Their morning lessons had progressed without a hint of anything sexual, Zoey had thought. Sure, she had accidentally admired the stern older woman's body a few times—as she'd just been accused of—but Zoey hadn't made any advances, overt or otherwise. She hadn't even thought Sabina had noticed. Clearly, counting on Sabina's observational skills to be lacking had been idiotic.

But how had today taken such a turn?

Was it really as simple as Sabina wanting to help 'remove distractions'? And discover the intricacies to Zoey's class?

The existence of a sex room attached to her bedroom suggested probably not. Zoey's appraisal of Sabina was, clearly, slightly off. She'd halfway figured Sabina was … asexual or something. Maybe, still, she was. Or something close? She had said she preferred to extract pleasure, not experience it.

"You asked me, yesterday," Sabina said, "whether semen made an effective potion base. I replied it had been tested and found inadequate. But perhaps … hm. A person's class—the composite quirks of their rune or runes—do affect the general alchemy process. Sometimes drastically. Considering your class? Perhaps …"

Sabina's hands went to Zoey's waistband. Holding scalding eye contact, her fingers finagled the button free, popping her pants open. She gripped the sides of Zoey's pants and tugged down. Zoey, her head still fuzzy from shock, wiggled side to side to help her pull them down. Sabina left the article bundled at her shoes.

Sabina tilted her head, taking in the size of Zoey's bulge. It was noticeable even through loose pants, but wearing only underwear to cover it, now, the truth of the situation made itself clear. Fourteen inches. A monster. It peeked out of her underwear, stretching toward her knee.

"I have, of course," Sabina said, "theorized what your class is. You arrived to me with such perplexing ingredients, and with such uncommon biology. How this would combine with a rune of alchemy … your curiosity isn't yours alone. Semen. Perhaps for a libidinous class like yours, an alchemy rune would make use of such a potion base."

Sabina tilted her head.

"As such, we need to collect."

Zoey's heart skipped a beat.

"Additionally," Sabina continued, unruffled as ever. She wasn't even blushing. "You've been distracted. It is, admittedly, flattering how much you stare, but you need to be focused on your studies." Sabina gave her a stern look. "On my tutelage. So. Relieving you serves multiple purposes."

Sabina rested a cool, gloved hand against the exposed tip of Zoey's cock head. Zoey groaned, having become almost agonizingly worked up. Mostly, it was the fault of how surprising the situation was. Zoey squirmed in place, only to be reminded how firmly her arms and legs were strapped down. She'd almost forgotten. The restrictiveness of her positioning, again, made her heart slam faster. Pinned down. Unable to leave if she wanted to. Why was that so exciting?

"So," Sabina said. "Let's solve a problem, and answer a question. I do prefer being efficient."

Chapter 78

Chapter Text

Sabina tugged Zoey's boxers down, springing fourteen inches of thick girl cock into the air.

Zoey had become accustomed to a universal reaction for girls seeing her cock for the first time: shock. Sabina, though, appraised it with the same clinical disregard she gave everything. Was there anything that could surprise this woman?

She gripped it, peering to its left and right, tilting it, as if looking to gain a scientific understanding of Zoey's cock.

"How big is it?" she eventually asked.

"Uh. Fourteen inches? Maybe?" Zoey hadn't actually measured, but that seemed right.

Sabina made her own assessment. "Fourteen. Yes, more or less. And proportionally thick." Her eyes flicked down. "You have both parts, too. I expected that. This was given with your class?"

"Yeah." How she'd deduced that, Zoey hadn't a clue. She didn't think about it. It was hard to focus with Sabina handling her cock with such passive disinterest. Fuck, why did Sabina seemingly not being aroused by their situation do so much for her? How could this cool, gray-eyed woman have her hand on Zoey's cock and be totally unruffled? "How'd you know?"

"You don't seem used to it." She shrugged. "I'm not sure I could be specific. Sometimes my realizations are … oblique. Even to me."

She stroked up and down, and Zoey wiggled in place, arms and legs strapped solidly down. That, too—the restraints—had Zoey going wild, cock throbbing and precum dribbling from her tip.

She'd never done this sort of thing. Or, not this exactly, but what she inferred Sabina's preferences were, considering the room littered with sex toys and … well, BDSM equipment. She was more experienced than most girls her age, but that sort of stuff? She'd never had a girlfriend into it, and had no natural preference for it, either. Some light choking and spanking was as adventurous as she'd been in that regard.

Definitely, she'd never been in a room with shelves lined with sex toys, and been seated on a metal table, locked down with straps and restraints. And what was all the other stuff, anyway? The furniture, and some of the toys Sabina had? She was both intimidated at the prospect of finding out, and desperately wanted to.

"So," Zoey gasped, squirming as Sabina's hand stroked up and down. The plastic grip of her gloves, and the passive expression, was doing so much for Zoey it almost wasn't fair. "You're, uh, into all this? I had no idea."

"Mm," Sabina replied. "I enjoy experimenting. That extends to the bedroom." Her hand continued to travel Zoey's length, working away with a slow, agonizing pace. She performed the motion with an idle disregard. A professionalism. As if she were stirring her cauldron—a routine task. "But I realize my preferences aren't everyone's. I simply thought this an appropriate environment to do this in. We need not do more." A second later, she added, "Perhaps it's best we don't, today. We're simply collecting substance to experiment with."

Zoey swallowed. Heat was curling in her stomach shockingly fast. She'd been taken care of by Rosalie thoroughly last night, so she wasn't pent up. She wouldn't be coming too fast. But Sabina's stroking was surprisingly adept, and the situation itself was intensely compromising.

Looking to distract herself, Zoey said, "You think it'll do something, then?"

"Your semen, as a base? Perhaps."

"Just maybe?"

"I find it likely," Sabina admitted. "But the most fundamental problem is output. We'll have to do this frequently for even small batches, if it turns out true."

Zoey laughed, finding the statement amusing for obvious reasons, then groaned and arched her back, struggling against her restraints. Sabina had stopped stroking slowly, and instead started jerking off the tip, bunching foreskin around it.

"I almost," Zoey panted, "don't want to tell you, if it means you'll take care of me 'frequently'. But, uh. Output. Isn't—" she groaned at the deftness of Sabina's movements, "a problem. I make more than I should. Once'll be enough for a full batch."

Sabina's eyebrows quirked. It was a muted reaction of surprise. She never—or at least rarely—emoted strongly.

"Well," she said. "Having a backlog of material will be useful, then. Let's settle for twice a day. Once at the start of our lessons, and in the middle. It'll keep you clear-minded."

Sabina leaned down and kissed the tip of Zoey's dick. The surprise—and searing eroticism—of the sudden movement overruled Zoey's good sense. Her hips took over. She bucked forward, her cock shoving into Sabina's mouth, but, since Sabina hadn't opened, the movement only had her cock sliding against closed teeth and deflecting, burying into Sabina's cheek. Sabina pulled back, blinking in surprise.

"Shit," Zoey said, appalled at her reaction. "I didn't—"

Sabina squeezed Zoey's cock, hard enough to make her gasp.

"No apologies. From either of us." She tilted her head. "If that's fine."

Zoey digested that request. Sabina was clearly implying she, with her adventurous preferences, might sometimes get carried away and do something Zoey hadn't expected—or liked. Sabina would rather not either of them apologize when it happened. Simply state their boundaries and move on.

Zoey nodded slowly.

"Good," Sabina said.

She withdrew her grip from Zoey's cock, which had Zoey wiggling her hips side to side, disappointed in the sudden lack of pleasure.

"Let's try a more efficient extraction method," Sabina said. "This will take too long, otherwise."

Well, that was a lie. Zoey's orgasm had been building unfortunately fast. She'd been fighting it away for her reputation's sake.

Sabina stood—she had seated herself earlier on a stool set near the reclining metal chair-table—and approached the toy shelf. She surveyed her options.

Plucking one from the second shelf, she turned to Zoey. "I did wonder if I'd ever get to use this. I'm not interested in men, but it was simply too fascinating a contraption."

In her hands, Sabina held a long, cylindrical device with a clear shell. Returning to Zoey's side, Sabina held it out for her to inspect further. Inside the shell was … a plastic toy? With spindly metal tools attached to it?

It looked like a pocket pussy. A mechanized one, that would thrust up and down, automatically.

Zoey gasped as Sabina pressed the toy down, without warning, enveloping her cock. Bumpy, naturally lubricated ridges caressed her cock as the toy sank down. Swirling glyphs—she'd grown to recognize the language of magic during her lessons with Maddy—covered the shell, faintly visible.

Sabina tapped some switch, and the toy hummed to life. The metal arms started thrusting up and down, massaging Zoey's length with the bumpy gel interior. Her cock head stuck through the tip, into a 'collection' vat at the top.

What in the world was this thing? A milking device? Literally?

And Sabina was using it. Milking her. Her cock barely fit into the thing.

"I was worried it wouldn't activate," Sabina commented. "It's been sitting on my shelf for a while."

Zoey whined in response. The toy's firm grip, and gel ridges, were too well designed. The motions were mind-erasingly satisfying. Or maybe it was that it was Sabina gripping it, helping jerk the toy up and down.

Sabina's vaguely amused expression, too, as she spectated Zoey's squirming, was … overwhelming.

She couldn't come too fast. Had to hold off.

Sabina seemed to read that intent on her face, the way Zoey's hands clenched and she bit her lip to fight the sensation away.

"We're wasting time better spent on your education," she scolded her. "But if you must be stubborn, I suppose I'm forced to accelerate the process."

Letting the toy sit on Zoey's cock—which continued thrusting—she stood up, then withdrew her shirt, revealing smooth, creamy skin beneath. Unsurprisingly, she was wearing a plain bra: white, not lacy, purely functional. Very Sabina.

But, as intended, the sight thrilled through Zoey. She wiggled against her constraints, going dizzy with excitement. As much as the quick jerking of the bumpy-ridged toy, Sabina exposing her body for Zoey's viewing pleasure had her willpower fraying, the hot energy pooling in her core expanding rapidly.

Sabina seemed satisfied at the reaction. She sat, then scooted forward, stool scraping against the floor. "You like what you see. How flattering."

"You're gorgeous," Zoey groaned. The coaxing motions of the thrusting contraption erased any hesitation, any worries over what the words spewing from her mouth might do. How they might change her and Sabina's relationship. "You're so fucking hot. And you know it. Stop pretending you don't." Her hips bucked desperately into the milking machine, and Zoey struggled against the straps and buckles. "I want you to be on me. To be fucking you. Your pussy. Not this … stupid … toy." She emphasized the last three words with jerks of her hips, bucking against her restraints.

Sabina's lips quirked. "Not today, dear student." She reached behind and unclasped her bra, then tugged it down, further revealing herself. "But you can look."

Zoey admired Sabina's perky, pale nipples, the alluring curves of her teacher's body. Her head went dizzy. The milking machine thrust up and down, working across her length.

Sabina re-gripped the thick plastic toy. It was designed to pleasure Zoey by itself, so Sabina didn't need to stroke it up and down, but the sight of Sabina's hand wrapped around the toy—which was wrapped around Zoey's cock—did plenty, either way. Zoey thrashed in place, starting to come apart. The sensation of her cock being milked with such rapid, machine-enhanced expertness was too hard to resist.

"Go ahead," Sabina said. "Finish for me. Be a good girl, and fill my toy up." She leaned forward and whispered, "You can pretend it's me, if you want. Pretend its my pussy working your load out. Squeezing your cock. I won't mind."

Embarrassingly, the simple words erased Zoey's mind. She came. Her hips arched upward, arms and legs straining against the straps holding her down. Orgasm wracked her, thick strands of cum bursting from her over-pleasured cock. Sabina watched with an academic sort of interest—and maybe something more.

Zoey emptied herself into the plastic toy. Her white substance filled the space at the top, milked away by the jerking gel-pussy.

A long minute later, still twitching from the aftershocks, Zoey sagged into the chair. Sabina flicked the toy off, finally ending the agonizing milking session. Her head spun from the experience. Really. How had morning alchemy lessons turned out like this?

"A good yield," Sabina commented, inspecting the toy—how it'd been filled up. Zoey was incredulous—and aroused, despite her orgasm—how impassive she sounded. Even after all that, totally unruffled. "Perfect. Now, let's test your theory. Semen, as a potion base. Perhaps it will provide desirable results."

Zoey stared down at the toy enveloping her dick, and the vat at the top, which had collected an impressive amount of her thick white cum. Definitely enough for a potion base. She groaned, then slumped, head lolling forward. That … event … had taken a lot out of her. Sabina really knew how to handle an extraction.

Sabina patted her on the shoulder, then grabbed her discarded bra, slipping it back on. Her shirt, then lab coat, followed. "Or maybe you need a second to breathe. That's fair. Hopefully you're better focused. We'll do this twice a day, as I said, to keep a clear head, and keep an adequate experimentation base. Perhaps once in the morning, a second midway through." She planted a kiss on Zoey's cheek. "And next time, I might let you be more involved. Not just a toy. It'll depend on your performance. Let's say, a quiz. Keep up your studies, and you'll be rewarded."

"You're such a … committed teacher," Zoey said, exhausted. "Really care about your student's education. I'm so lucky."

Sabina patted Zoey's shoulder. "Indeed."

But really. If there'd ever been a motivation to do well in class.

Chapter 79

Chapter Text

Rosalie wasn't sure how she'd been goaded into this.

'Strip spars'. Heavens above. What would Father—or her sisters—think? Even disregarding the inappropriate nature of the event, the duel itself was offensive. Or, rather, the stakes. Stakes implied she might lose. Her? The heiress to the Deepshunter Guild?

She couldn't imagine the shame. Fortunately, it wasn't something she needed to worry about. As if she would lose to this annoying woman. Delta was more than competent enough, but not only was the match-up unfavorable—Rosalie's class was nearly ideal for dueling, and Delta's high-damage, low-survivability style was not—but 'competent' didn't mean she was on an even playing field with her.

She didn't mean that in a disparaging way. Simply, Rosalie had been pushing herself to her limits—or rather, Father had been, and then Rosalie herself, once old enough to realize the purpose of her training—since the moment she could walk. By Delta's lackadaisical views on how they should be spending their time, clearly her upbringing was not remotely on the same level of Rosalie's. It wasn't her fault she was worse.

Then why was she nervous?

Because Delta's taunts held credence? How Rosalie might become 'distracted' as the event progressed?

"You ready?" Delta asked.

The fox-eared girl stood across the dueling arena, bow drawn but held down and to the side, arrow nocked. Delta preferred ranged combat, but in this fight, she wouldn't get to use her bow much. That disadvantage wouldn't be too crippling. She was more than competent with her dual knives. But still a disadvantage. She excelled when she could stay back, not engage in a melee.

Hence, closing the gap would be crucial. Though, as a spear wielder, that would have been a goal of Rosalie's regardless of Delta's talents.

Even with her advantages detailed, this spar of theirs wouldn't be completely free. For all of Rosalie's complaints about her hastily-acquired teammate, she wasn't a poor, or even mediocre, combatant. Rosalie would have minor—minor—difficulties fending her off. Just nothing to truly worry about.

"Begin whenever," Rosalie said. Her grip tightened against her spear, which she had planted into the ground. Her muscles were tense despite her relaxed, intentionally taunting words.

She wished she had a better weapon. For most of her upbringing, she'd trained with a spear of almost incalculable value, a prize of Father's own adventures. Dragon's Tongue. It was too powerful for Rosalie to inherit its passive benefits, but despite that, it had an enviably perfect balance. Father had, perhaps, crippled her by giving her such an outstanding weapon to practice with. He did have blind spots, in that regard. Why not train her to be competent in any situation? Though she supposed he had. Just, the inferior weaponry she'd been faced with recently was irritating.

Then again, Rosalie had been supposed to return immediately. Her lingering in Treyhull—with Zoey and Delta—was against his directive. She grimaced, then, like usual, pushed the thought away. She'd made her decision. Father would understand. Maybe. After explanations. Zoey—and even Delta, though less so—would be talent he appreciated. Or … probably. Also a maybe. Rosalie wasn't sure if she wanted to share the full details of Zoey's class with Father, for numerous reasons, and so he might not see why Rosalie had paired with her.

And paired in a different way. Girlfriends.

What a disaster. Dating. Rosalie wasn't supposed to be dating anyone. Ever, probably, but certainly not until she'd carved an appropriate name for herself. She didn't have time for that kind of frivolity.

"I'll start, then?" Delta asked. She'd raised an eyebrow, as if noticing Rosalie's wandering thoughts.

Shaking them away, and fighting off a flush—distracted already?—Rosalie replied, "Whenever you wish."

Delta didn't linger. She seized the opportunity, bursting into motion. The first three arrows had zipped her way before Rosalie had spurred herself to move. A skill, undoubtedly. Delta was quick with her movements, and admittedly even faster than Rosalie, but not as lighting-quick as the initial barrage of arrows would imply.

Weaving between them, Rosalie closed the gap in a blink. Delta pulled out her daggers, frowning that none of her initial attacks had found purchase. It'd probably been her best shot, especially since she'd relied on a skill.

The fight began in earnest.

She would give her teammate credit. A close-range duel like this wasn't her specialty, her two daggers far inferior to Rosalie's spear, and yet she put up a good fight. Most sparring partners, Rosalie would have dismantled in a few exchanges. Instead, Delta weaved between between spear thrusts and even managed to have her on the back foot for a few moments, Rosalie barely avoiding the quick, vicious slashes of her twin daggers.

But, ultimately, the first round wasn't close, either. Delta wasn't an irrelevant opponent, but she wasn't a highguild heiress apprenticed under one of the world's strongest wayfarers. She hadn't lived and breathed combat training for every waking moment of her existence.

A series of precise footwork and thrusts later, Rosalie's spear scraped along Delta's shoulder, drawing blood as it pierced her armor. Delta grunted and pulled back.

Delta eyed Rosalie, a bit sourly. She did have a competitive streak, which Rosalie respected. However much Delta had set this debacle up with intent to tease Rosalie, she had also been trying her hardest to win.

It was one of their few points of kinship. Here was a girl who cared about winning, desperately. Overall, Rosalie found Delta a bit unfocused, but Rosalie had sorted through the many candidates of the Treyhull guild and landed on Delta, despite annoying first impressions. That had been for a reason.

Attending to her minor injury, Delta pulled out a health potion and took a drink. The scrape on her shoulder stitched itself over, returning her to her previous condition. Likewise, her armor repaired itself, mending the slash Rosalie's spear had cut open. An awfully convenient feature of equipment found in shards. Beyond being more durable and providing empowering effects, they were tied to a person's life force. Most damage could be healed, either over time or with a health potion, in the same manner injuries would.

"Almost had you," Delta said. "But whatever." She sniffed, ego bruised. "What do you want first?"

Hm?

Rosalie paused, remembering the nature of this spar. Right. Each of Rosalie's victories meant her opponent would be losing a piece of her equipment. Stripping, slowly, toward nudity.

Which should mean it would be easier to win. A lack of armor in a normal spar ought to be a detriment.

Would be a detriment. To Delta. Not her. She wouldn't get distracted.

Because, first off, what was there to be distracted by?

"Your gloves," Rosalie said.

"Nice try, princess. Not one of the options."

"And the options are?"

"Top, bottom, and for each of those, outer, inner. So four pieces total."

Traitorously, Rosalie's heart sped up, considering the choice. She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Either. It hardly matters."

"You've gotta pick, princess."

"Bottom."

Delta snorted, as if she'd expected the response. "Yeah. Of course you would. You're scared of these." She cupped her breasts behind her leather armor, sneering at Rosalie. Done under restrictive armor, the bouncing motion wasn't especially flattering … but Rosalie, unfortunately, glanced away, blushing.

And, the accusation. Staring? Her? "I have most certainly not." Rosalie could, maybe, perhaps admit that from a strictly factual stand point, Delta had a lot going on up top. A lot more than Rosalie, certainly. There was plenty to stare at. But was Rosalie doing so? No. Clearly, Delta had an ego problem along with her obnoxiousness one.

The amusement in Delta's curled lips said everything it needed to. How she could dismantle Rosalie's protests with a simple look, she had no idea. Maybe Rosalie was dismantling her own protests by the way she blushed furiously. Either way, she rallied herself, then met Delta's eyes, glaring. She wouldn't be cowed, however mortifying this sparring session was—and would shortly become.

Unfortunately, Delta seemed to bask in Rosalie's heated look, flourishing underneath the glare.

Delta's boots came off, then her pants. She held eye contact with Rosalie as she did so, making it an event. Once done, the boots didn't go back on. They came as a pair, apparently—the accessories came with the major articles.

Once done, Delta plucked her daggers off the bench she'd set them on, then padded back to the opposite end of the room.

Rosalie tried hard not to stare. Delta's long, toned legs were on full display, and not the easiest thing to ignore. She'd also worn a pair of bright orange underwear. Matching her hair. Something as attention-grabbing as possible, and undoubtedly intentional.

Fortunately, it wasn't working. Not in the slightest.

"Ready?" Rosalie asked.

Delta only smirked. Why did she have to be so confident about all this? And even pleased? Like she wanted Rosalie to admire her? Not that she was.

"Mm," Delta said. "Nah, gimme a second. I'm actually kind of tense. Lemme stretch out."

Delta turned around, then bent forward, keeping her legs straight. She pretended to go about a stretching routine, but all she was doing—blatantly so—was showing herself off for Rosalie: her recently exposed legs and ass, which her panties did an excellent job of cupping.

From an objective standpoint. Not Rosalie's own opinion.

Delta peeked down from beneath her legs, fists on the floor as she stretched out her hamstrings. Violet eyes met her own, and a fluffy orange tail swished in amusement. "Don't enjoy the show too much, blondie. It's rude to stare."

Rosalie tore her eyes away. "I wasn't," she said immediately. Then, correcting the instinctive lie, because it would be torn in two, she sneered, "It wouldn't be beneath you to use this as a distraction. I was making sure you didn't start."

"So why look away, then, when I called you out?"

Rosalie's lips pressed into a line. She … had her there.

Finally, Delta straightened out and rolled her shoulders. That irritating smirk was still there, and even more pronounced than before. Rosalie had won the first actual spar, but Delta had done so—and in much more spectacular fashion—the first spar of less literal interpretation.

"Alright. Ready for round two?"

"As ever," Rosalie replied stiffly. The annoying fox-girl could try as hard as she wanted to fluster her, but she wouldn't let it carry over into combat. She had better training than that.

Despite that determination, round two was sloppier. Not for any particular reason. She just made a few minor errors. Not because she was distracted by Delta's exposed legs and bright orange panties. Just … a coincidence.

Fortunately, the irritated look on Delta's face, having lost twice in a row, made up for the ordeal Rosalie was suffering.

"How do you do that?" Delta asked, tail swishing in annoyance, holding her arm where Rosalie's had scored her next hit. "It's like you can read my mind. You don't fall for anything." She narrowed her eyes. "And what's that you're doing with your spear? New skill?"

Rosalie inclined her head in acknowledgment. She didn't generally think it wise to share skill details, and to most other people would have simply stayed silent, even if the skill was obvious. But Delta was looking to be a long-term teammate of hers, so she didn't outright snub her. Still, no details.

Delta huffed. "Okay. What's next off?"

"There's only one option, isn't there?" She tried to not focus on what they were talking about. Keeping her blushes under control was hard enough.

"Nah," Delta said. "Two. You could take my panties next, if you wanted. Doesn't have to be my top."

She … could ?

"Your top is fine," Rosalie said firmly.

"You sure? Don't wanna get to the fun stuff?"

"Positive."

Delta grinned, then got to stripping. Before Rosalie knew it, Delta was lined up across from her, now in only her underwear. It had already been a gargantuan task to ignore the glimpses of smooth skin and flashes of underwear, especially because a good warrior needed to watch her opponent's hips, being the fulcrum which most powerful moves pivoted on and the easiest place to identify intent, but now Delta's …. assets … were on full display. The ones Rosalie had been—quite falsely—accused of staring at.

How was it fair? That she'd gotten those things? Rosalie didn't have nothing up top, and likely more than she could hope for considering her lean build, but compared to this annoying fox-girl, it wasn't even close. If Rosalie had been staring, it was because she was annoyed. Outraged at the unfairness of it all.

Rosalie tore her attention away, forcing it back to Delta's eyes. Delta's annoyance from losing had faded. Getting to see Rosalie squirm made up for the bruising to her pride.

"Have another stretching routine?" Rosalie asked. "Or shall we begin?" It came out stiffer than intended.

"Only the first show is free. But … maybe if you ask nicely."

So she hadn't been stretching. Not that Rosalie had believed that. But still. So shameless. Rosalie glared, then lowered her spear, making her intent clear. Time for round three.

Just three more quick victories, for Delta's bra, panties, then the naked round, and Rosalie would be done with this. It would be over shortly. She wouldn't let herself get distracted.

And the hand-to-hand final round … where she had to pin a naked Delta down and make her tap out … that wouldn't be a problem, either.

Not a problem at all.

Chapter 80

Chapter Text

Rosalie managed to win round three as well, but it was by an even closer margin than the first two. Hair-thin. Then, left with the unfortunate choice of having Delta strip her bra or panties off, she picked the less distracting of the two: her bra.

Round four went to Delta.

Not because Rosalie was distracted. Rather, Rosalie would have to concede that Delta must be a better fighter than first appraised. Which was a hard admittance to make. But the alternative was to acknowledge she was becoming distracted. And she wasn't.

Maybe even it was luck. Rosalie couldn't always win. It wasn't that her eyes were sticking to inappropriate places, making her miss obvious tells to what Delta's next move would be.

As her first bounty for a win, Delta chose Rosalie's top. Exposing herself, even in a small way, to her aggravatingly confident teammate had almost as much of an effect as Delta's own stripping. Rosalie's performance for round five was even worse than round four, and Delta won again. So, Rosalie's pants came off, leaving Rosalie in panties and bra, and Delta in just panties.

The worst part was the amusement in Delta's sparkling purple eyes. The constant smirk, the quips and taunting remarks. Most of them focused on Rosalie's blushing, not that she was blushing. Delta just interpreted it like that. The reality was that she had worked up a sweat. This was a spar. Of course her face and chest were flushed. Never mind that Rosalie's stamina was far greater than to be getting flushed in a few quick exchanges. This was … an exception. Somehow.

Her irritation at Delta's teasing actually provided enough fire for Rosalie to focus for another round. She won match six, and Delta's panties came off, leaving her naked.

The brief rallying effect dissipated.

For two reasons: one, that Delta was naked, and sure, it wasn't the first time she'd seen that, considering their adventures in the second shard, but this situation was different. They didn't need to be naked. The shard hadn't forced it.

Secondly, Rosalie lost her weapon. The final rounds, as laid out by Delta's rules, required the winner to pin down their naked opponent. It had sounded like a distinctly made up addition, but Rosalie couldn't call her on it. Obviously, she'd never done something like this before. An expert on the rules of 'strip spars'.

So, round seven. Where Rosalie needed to grapple a naked Delta, who still had her daggers. It was too challenging of a task. She lost two additional rounds, being stripped of her own bras and panties. The defeats were only the result of the weapon disadvantage. Grappling an armed opponent without taking hits was too difficult, even for her. It wasn't that getting her hands on a sweaty, naked Delta caused problems for her focus. Not in the slightest.

Which mortifyingly led them to this moment.

"Remember, princess," Delta said, tail swishing behind her. Rosalie tried hard to maintain eye contact. Though that wasn't even what she was supposed to do; she should be watching her hips. They telegraphed movement most obviously. But … it might actually be worse for Rosalie to look there. Too much to see. "Your girlfriend doesn't want us to do anything without her," Delta said, almost startling Rosalie, who'd, again, zoned out. "So keep control of yourself."

"Keep control of myself?"

"Nothing too fun," Delta confirmed, as if it had been a real question, and not a growled protest. "But it's winner gets, so play hard."

Nothing too fun. As if she was implying this final wrestling match could get out of hand. Maybe—maybe—Rosalie could admit Delta had a body that was mildly—mildly—distracting, but that didn't mean Rosalie was remotely interested in Delta. That she'd get 'carried away' during this wrestling.

Really, the only possible way Rosalie would consider something like what Delta implied—intimacy—was if Zoey asked. Because she herself wasn't interested. Not remotely. Not even slightly. She couldn't imagine something less appealing than sleeping with this monumentally irritating woman.

But if Zoey asked, maybe Rosalie could be convinced.

Because then Rosalie could make it clear she was just entertaining Zoey's wishes. Keeping her perverted girlfriend satisfied.

She wouldn't have to admit anything.

"No reply?" Delta asked.

Rosalie started, again.

"Lost in thought?" Delta teased. "Distracted by something?" She raised her hands in the air and stretched, thrusting her chest out. Rosalie glanced away, instinctively, and Delta tutted. "I'm just stretching, princess. You don't need to look away." A grin. "Plus, I could've taken advantage of that, like you mentioned earlier. You're lucky I'm not trying my hardest."

Infuriated, Rosalie looked back forward. She was right. That could have been an easy advantage. Why had she looked away? Delta's body wasn't flustering her. "Can we begin, already?"

She raised her eyebrows. "If you want your hands over me that badly, I guess we can get going."

Instead of entertaining the banter for a second longer, she stepped forward. "I'm starting."

Delta settled into a fighting stance. "Hand to hand isn't my strength, but not yours either, I'm taking it."

"I've trained in all styles." It might not be her forte, but she was more than capable.

"Of course you have," Delta said. "Still. I'm bringing this one home. Ready?"

Rosalie began the fight, surging forward. The distance closed in an instant. Delta twisted out of the way, dodging her first attempt at a grapple. Despite Rosalie being the shorter, more agile-looking of the two, Delta was actually quicker than her, and by a noticeable amount. Her runes. As a bow-and-knife wielding damage-focused wayfarer, Rosalie would be hard pressed to find an opponent as slippery as her. Rosalie's own specialties were with offense mixed with defense.

She steadied herself, but Delta's dodge had put her in a great position to follow up. Her hands wrapped around Rosalie's stomach, and—apparently more than happy to take this to the floor—yanked her up, then heaved and purposely fell, dropping the two of them. Rosalie hit hard enough to be stunned. Delta's teasing, apparently, had extended only to the pre-match. She wanted to win, and was fighting like it.

She wanted a 'favor' from Rosalie.

The two of them struggled against each other, Rosalie wiggling out of her grip and trying to secure her own hold. Naked, sweaty skin rubbed against naked, sweaty skin. Only the adrenaline of the fight kept Rosalie half-way focused.

An intense, heated exchange took place. Wrestling was very much not Rosalie's strength, but, as Delta had said, not hers, either. By the standards of the previous matches, it was sloppy.

Still, Rosalie eventually found an opening. Her muscles strained as she secured a grip on her opponent, maneuvering into a pin. She'd wrapped Delta with her legs, and locked her arms with her own. Despite the poor beginning, she'd come out on top.

Delta thrashed, putting up a good fight to break free, but Rosalie held firm. If she kept her pinned down, then this match was over. Rosalie had won.

She'd won.

But … did she want that? Given the brief half-reprieve of simply having to lock her muscles tight and hold Delta in place, she was given a moment to think. If Rosalie held still, she'd win.

Which would mean she would get the 'favor'.

Which meant Delta wouldn't.

Rosalie couldn't ask for anything inappropriate. Her pride wouldn't allow her. Delta was the shameless one, not her. So if Rosalie wanted anything to come of this event, then Delta had to win.

Not that she wanted something to come of this event.

But …

Rosalie's grip slipped.

Given even a small opening, Delta pried into it with vicious efficiency. In a flurry, she became the one pinned into the ground, locked into a pin by the naked girl she was wrestling with.

Rosalie gave it her best effort to come back, but once an effective grip had been established, it was almost impossible to break free.

That Rosalie's had? Well … that was a fluke.

It hadn't been intentional.

Eventually, Rosalie was forced to admit defeat. She did give it her best effort breaking free, her pride demanding it of her, but Delta gave no such openings like Rosalie had. She finally went still, realizing the futility of continuing.

"I'm pinned," Rosalie said flatly. "You win. Get off me."

She tried desperately to ignore the reality of the situation. Delta's breasts pressed into her, their heated, sweat-slicked skin touching in more places than it wasn't. There was pressure—legs and arms and hands—in places distinctly difficult to ignore.

"You let me win," Delta panted, loosening her grip slightly, but not releasing Rosalie. "Why?"

"I didn't."

Delta tightened the pin, and Rosalie grunted. "At least admit it."

Rosalie refused to.

"You're so annoying," Delta growled.

"Says you?"

"You know what I think?" She leaned forward, breathing hot air into Rosalie's ear. "You want me make good use of the favor. So you gave it to me." Finally, Delta let go and rolled off. "And, fine. You better believe I will."

Rosalie likewise rolled to the side, muscles aching, and stood. She stalked toward her clothing, pointedly facing away from Delta. Not because she was blushing, and not because all of that sweaty contact had put Rosalie in a very compromised mindset.

Panties and bra slipped on, at least, Rosalie turned and faced Delta. The fox girl had rolled onto her side and propped her head up, not returning to her clothes as Rosalie had. She stayed happily naked, facing toward Rosalie. As shameless as always. Rosalie refused to be cowed; she didn't look away.

"So. What is it?" Rosalie asked.

"What is what?"

She crossed her arms. "The favor."

"Dunno yet. I'll probably get Zoey's opinion. Help cook something up. She knows what you like, I'm guessing."

Rosalie stared disdainfully down at her teammate. "Of course you would, pervert."

"I'm the pervert?" she asked. "You're the one who let me win so I could ask something freaky of you."

For a second, Rosalie almost denied the accusation. But she hesitated, then, instead, huffed and turned back to the rest of her clothing.

"And you won't even deny it," Delta said. "Because your prudishness and ego are fighting. You don't want to admit wanting me, but you also won't admit you lost. You have to make it clear you threw the fight." She laughed, and Rosalie's face burned furiously as she continued to dress, ignoring her opponent's words. "I really can't decide if you're cute or obnoxious, blondie."

"It's no such struggle for me."

"You think I'm cute?"

"Obnoxious," Rosalie emphasized, shooting a glare over her shoulder, which turned out to be a mistake, because it gave her a generous view of Delta's naked body as she stretched on the sparring mat.

"You sure about that?"

"Exceedingly."

"Not the slightest bit cute?"

Rosalie ignored her.

"That's fine," Delta said. "I think me and Zoey can change your attitude, once things get going." She sighed inconsolably. "It's a shame we have to wait, though. Wanna go track her down and get started early?"

In the addled state Rosalie was in, she actually paused. And, of course, Delta noticed.

"That's a yes," she grinned.

"No." Then, more firmly, "No. We already have plans tonight. Daytime hours are for practice, at a very minimum." It should've been all day and night spent productively, but Zoey was having a bad influence on her. Rosalie was losing her willpower to keep to her routine. At least she could fall back onto the convoluted excuse that she was helping Zoey with her class. Powerful as it was, there was even merit to the reasoning.

"You sure? I'm all worked up, now."

The statement had Rosalie's heart skipping a beat. She ignored it. "Get dressed. Your … contest …" the word dripped with disgust, "has been decided. Let's get a few real spars in. And you said you knew the competition."

Delta pouted. "But if we go spar other people, I can't stay naked. I like catching you staring."

Rosalie, for the tenth time, just gave her a disgusted look.

Truly an insufferable woman.

Chapter 81

Chapter Text

It was kind of hard to just go back to potion-making after being so thoroughly drained by Sabina's milking session, especially with how unexpected the encounter had been, but Sabina's efficient, unruffled nature helped Zoey get her thoughts in order. Zoey was genuinely astounded at how easily Sabina ignored what the two of them had done. Or what she had done to Zoey. It had been a pretty one-sided thing, not that Zoey was complaining.

Fortunately, Zoey's curiosity helped her brush past things, too. Sabina's milking of her lower half had been for a reason. Or, at least a practical one in addition to the less appropriate. There was merit to Zoey's reasoning: that her class might bestow certain properties to her cum, making it a viable potion-base.

"If I had to guess," Sabina said, prepping the small-form brewing station as Zoey studiously watched and took notes. "It would be especially suited to potions that provide carnal effects. We'll first test it with the fairy dust. If it catalyzes, then that likely indicates our suspicions are true. Of course, we'll need to compare it to other bases to be certain, but my previous attempts with your ingredients have been … stubborn. So an instant success would effectively be a confirmation."

Sabina continued to meticulously arrange the ingredients and equipment, including the thick container of Zoey's cum. The flask had more than enough liquid for a small batch of potions, and it laid to the side, along with the other reagents they'd be adding.

Zoey wouldn't be leading this brew. She was still a beginner, and they would be working with valuable ingredients, this batch, not worthless ones like for the health potions earlier.

There was plenty to learn from spectating. Not every instance of her tutelage needed to be hands on. Plus, Zoey was looking forward to Sabina coaxing out a potion from the pink fairy dust. The shimmering material said it would give effects related to dreams. In what form? She couldn't wait to find out. Something fun, her gut told her. Maybe fun and practical.

She attended to Sabina's requests as they went about the process. She helped here and there, in small ways, passing equipment or preparing reagents. Sabina did all the real work. Zoey took notes when she could, and Sabina did the same. Ones much more detailed than Zoey's own, identifying exactly the process she implemented. She was a scientist in the traditional sense, even if technology might not be as advanced here as back home.

A surprisingly intense forty-five minutes later, Sabina held up a vial of pink liquid, eying it. The cloudy liquid slowly resolved, turning a deeper and deeper pink by the second. Until finally, it settled.

[Potion of Expanded Consciousness] - Open the consumer 's mind to the dream world, allowing external influences to delve deep into one's psyche.

"Oh, wow," Zoey said. "What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure," Sabina said, finishing her inspection and setting the vial into the prepared vial rack. She poured the rest of the batch into vials, talking as she did so. "And it's less inappropriate than I expected."

"Well. Maybe it doesn't say it, but I bet the dreams would be … less than appropriate. Just a hunch."

Sabina hummed in consideration.

"And it worked," Zoey said, pointing out the obvious.

"Indeed. It seems your essence does, as predicted, make an ideal potion base. Curious. It'll simplify further experiments. Though, I do wonder if more mundane potions will find it a habitable solution."

"I wonder," Zoey agreed.

"As to the potion itself. 'External influences'. That concerns me."

She'd had the same thought. "What sorts of influences? And who says they'll be friendly?"

"Perhaps it'd be best to not take it."

"Huh?" No, Zoey's concern didn't extend that far. "I still think it's worth trying."

"It's an unusually vague description."

Zoey shrugged. Maybe the carelessness wasn't wholly wise, but there was no shot she was just going to not take it. Who knew how amazing the experience could turn out?

"What happens, happens," Zoey said. It was maybe a too-blase attitude. "Some of the other items I've gotten are vague. Things haven't turned out poorly, yet."

"It's yours to do with as you please," Sabina said. "I'm simply who you hired to catalyze it. But do be careful."

Right. Zoey had almost forgotten about that. She'd fallen into an easy companionship with Sabina that had almost made her forget their relationship was professional in origin. Or … mostly professional, and likely shifting toward something else. Clearly, Sabina's milking session indicated some sort of morphing of their relationship. But in this regard, still professional.

It broached a topic Zoey had been chewing over.

"Hey," Zoey said. "Do you, uh, mind if we talk business, actually?"

Sabina took the swerve in conversation in stride, as she did everything. "As we clean." She gestured at the dirty equipment.

"Right."

Zoey helped Sabina collect the various tools and dispose of expended regents to the appropriate receptacles. It was a monotonous process she was growing accustomed to. Even fantastic activities like alchemy came with plenty of mundane realities, cleaning and preparation being two obvious ones.

"So. Business."

"Business."

"Don't take this the wrong way …" Zoey started, "but can I ask how you're, well, making a living?"

A quirked eyebrow. "Well," she said slowly. "I'm an alchemist by trade."

Sarcasm wasn't the most common thing coming from Sabina, so Zoey was amused. But also, at the same time, she internally winced. She was going to have to spell out what she meant, explicitly? "I mean, how are you—"

"I know what you mean," Sabina said. "How I finance myself with so few customers."

"Well … yeah." Sabina had people come in to buy something here and there, but not nearly enough, it felt like, to maintain a store of this size. She didn't know the exact financial circumstances of business ownership in the city of Treyhull, but she couldn't imagine the scarce traffic Sabina got was normal. Or even tenable.

"I don't deal with public clientele," Sabina said. "I'm open to the public, yes, but I realized early on that I'm poorly suited to typical business ownership. It requires a certain level of …" she grappled for the right word.

Zoey bit down on the one that came to mind. 'Affability'. She thought Sabina was wonderful, but she definitely wouldn't call her anything but 'aloof'. Not a salesman in any regard, that was clear.

"Showmanship," Sabina settled on. It wasn't what Zoey would have used, but she got the point. "So I operate with outside business. The Guild, of course, being the primary. They have high demand for bulk orders, which they offer me, because I provide consistent, high quality product."

"Oh," Zoey said. That made a ton of sense, actually. Because Sabina was staying afloat, and with how barren her actual storefront was, there had to have been a reason she hadn't gone broke, yet. The answer made as much sense as any. "What do you make for them?"

"The typical. Health, stamina, mana. Occasionally specialty requests. They send me a list once a week. Beyond the Guild, I have other recurring obligations." She paused, scrubbing away at a flask using a long, thin sponge attached to a firm metal wire. "I will admit the money is poor. Individual clients are certainly the more lucrative option. But haggling with customers … I can't suffer it." She glanced at Zoey, then turned back forward, seeming almost hesitant. "The whole process is irritating. And I'm not good at it, either." She turned back forward and returned to scrubbing, a frown quirking the edges of her lips.

"Yeah," Zoey said. "I get that. Dealing with people can be annoying."

"Why do you ask?"

"Curious. And … other reasons, too."

Sabina waited, a silent prompt.

"I was wondering if you wanted to try something out."

"Selling your lewd potions," Sabina guessed. "Going into business."

Zoey started, then looked at Sabina and huffed. "Can you stop guessing everything I'm going to ask and do? It's like you can read my mind." It had been a recurring trend. "But yeah. A sex potion business."

"There's merit to the idea," Sabina said. "Especially since it seems your shards follow a trend. While you might not get the same reagents each time, we should have a steady supply. A rotating availability might even be good for business. Scarcity."

"Yeah. Though, how rare is it, exactly? Lewd potions."

"Unheard of," Sabina said. "To my knowledge. I've been meaning to discuss the topic with you, actually. I want to compose a paper to the Institute about my findings. We're repeatedly discovering effects that are, frankly, completely novel. It would have my colleagues in a frenzy."

"Oh. So it's rare."

"Novel, as I said." She hummed in satisfaction. The concept clearly excited her—in Sabina's way, at least, which didn't come with the usual tells. But for her, she was practically vibrating. "You have a truly unique class."

"And you want to write a paper about it."

"I see the difficulty behind the request," Sabina said. "It would draw an unfortunate amount of attention my—and your—way."

"Which is a problem." Rosalie, and Delta, had made it clear Zoey should be keeping her class under wraps. "I don't want to have too many eyes turned my way."

"I figured. So, it's not an option?"

"I'm sorry. Probably not. At least for now."

Sabina nodded, not put out. She'd gotten the response she'd expected. And Zoey wanted to let her do as she pleased—which apparently meant writing a paper on the recipes she was discovering—but for safety's sake, she shouldn't.

Even starting up a sex potion business would be less conspicuous that appropriate, maybe. But, it was several steps down from writing a paper to a research institute highlighting how amazing, and unique, Zoey's class was. The typical consumer who'd be buying a sex potion likely wouldn't realize how odd it was. Not as much as an alchemy organization, at least.

"Please, continue," Sabina prompted. "Your idea."

"Er, yeah." She'd gone quiet as she chewed over the topics Sabina had brought up. "Well, there's not much to say, it sounds like. If these potions are totally unique, and we have a surplus of reagents, why not monetize them?"

"And I would have a cut?"

"Sure. I don't know the exact details, I guess, but we're bouncing ideas around."

"Who would handle sales? You?"

Probably not. Zoey didn't have the time—nor desire—to be the saleswoman, either. Then again, wouldn't such rare merchandise sell itself?

"Maybe we bring in a third party," Zoey said. "Hire someone?"

"And I brew."

"Yeah. I collect the materials, you brew." And hopefully Zoey herself could help with that, eventually, but she knew she wasn't at that stage in her career. "And we find a third person to handle marketing and sales. There's money to be made."

"I suspect there is, handled correctly." Sabina consider the idea, scrubbing away at the dirtied alchemy equipment. "Let's work out a few details."

Chapter 82

Chapter Text

Zoey and Sabina hammered out the details for a potential business plan. In broad strokes, true, but also in a way that suggested this might come to pass and wasn't fanciful musing.

The two important items that needed to be handled was finding a stall or small storefront in the redlight district—the scandalous nature of their merchandise wouldn't be allowed in the general marketplaces—as well as finding an employee for selling the potions, since neither Zoey nor Sabina wanted to handle that task. Zoey, because she had other things to be doing, and Sabina, because she would be busy brewing and handling her other duties—along with her dislike for customer-facing responsibilities.

Zoey was excited for the business to take off, and intended to move from 'planning' to 'reality' as quickly as she could. First, because the money would be nice. Finances hadn't been a problem, but she didn't have so much she could buy whatever she wanted, either. The same for Rosalie. Zoey could tell by the way she acted that her family was rich, likely filthy rich, but she didn't have access to those funds, right now. And sure, that would change in a few short weeks, when they set off to Mantle, but even if Rosalie was willing to keep Zoey supplied, Zoey would prefer she had her own source of income. Mooching of her now-girlfriend would feel weird.

But besides the money, Zoey looked forward to the project for other reasons. A simple sense of excitement to name one, getting to watch and participate in a growing venture, and besides that, a way to keep Sabina better supplied. Sabina had quickly become a friend, and opening up a way for her to pursue her passions was something that interested Zoey on its own merit.

Though, what would happen when they left? Set off to Mantle? All things considered, two weeks was no time at all, on the scale of 'setting up a business'. She'd blink, and it would be time to leave—thus splitting apart the business if Sabina wasn't interested in coming along.

Zoey had felt the situation out. Sabina, apparently, didn't have any major ties holding her down. She'd been renting her storefront for two years, and had grown accustomed to it—and made business contacts, established a routine—but she didn't have family, or … well, even many friends, to put things bluntly. As long as Sabina had a place to be conducting her research, and the supplies to do so, that was all that mattered.

So in that regard, if their test-run with a lewd potion stall in the redlight district worked out, and they raked in money, then Sabina indicated she'd be willing to relocate. It had been an awkward topic to broach, though, outright asking Sabina if she'd be willing to move cities with her. They'd only known each other a few days.

Ultimately, it depended on how the business worked out.

After her lessons and discussions with Sabina, Zoey headed back to the Guild for more of the same—tutelage—except with Maddy. It was the routine she'd be following for the rest of their break in Treyhull, probably. Mornings with Sabina, late morning and afternoon with Maddy, then her evenings free, to handle whatever else needed taken care of.

Lessons with Maddy went well. They worked on the ice armor spell, which she managed to fully manifest, though not with any amazing efficiency. Certainly, not at a level appropriate to venturing out to second or third advancement shards.

But she was making strides, according to Maddy. It was hard to tell if that praise was genuine, or just Maddy being a sweetheart, but Zoey took pride in it anyway. She was trying her hardest, so she might as well take the encouragement for what it was.

Not that she'd sit back and be satisfied with herself, growing complacent. If she wanted a career with Rosalie and Delta, then she had to become a competent adventurer. To push herself. Sure, her class gave her overpowered skills, but that wasn't enough.

Doubly so because of the danger. As they worked their way up the advancement ladder, shards would become more and more of a deadly threat to her teammates. It would be Zoey's job, in some part, to keep them safe. And keeping Rosalie and Delta safe? Obviously high on the priority list. Higher than anything else.

By the time the second magic lesson was wrapped up, Zoey had a shaky, if consistent, hold on the ice armor spell. While ice shards were massively easier to fling, they were also a crude ability. Which didn't mean it was a bad skill. Swinging a hammer could be 'crude' compared to some finesse-based weapons, but still effective. Ice armor, on the other hand, was far more difficult to bring to life—but much more useful. As long as she kept her ice armor manifested, if an attack slipped past Rosalie, Zoey should be able to take the attack without her transmigration through worlds coming to an abrupt end.

She and Maddy also started on a few other manifestations of her ice-related abilities. She made little progress there, but with luck—and a lot of work—Zoey might have an 'ice wall' and a 'frost' spell ready for the next shard. The former for utility, the latter as a debuff—to lock up enemies with a debilitating sheen of frost.

Finally, in the cool-down period, she invited Maddy out for drinks with her, Rosalie, and Delta. She accepted eagerly. It might just be her generally affable nature, but Zoey thought Maddy liked her company as much as Zoey did hers. Besides being a friendly and encouraging tutor, Zoey just liked the bubbly girl. She was a bit … dorky and excitable, at times, tripping over her words in her eagerness to get them out, but it was endlessly endearing, not annoying. How could anyone be annoyed by Maddy? She was a ball of sunshine.

Her training responsibilities completed for the day, and with only an hour or two before the sun would set, Zoey headed back to her room to get ready for their outing. Rosalie wasn't there, but would be shortly; they'd discussed timing that morning.

Before Zoey knew it, the four of them were cluttered into a booth, one or two drinks deep, a mild buzz having settled into her. Rosalie sat to her side, absently swirling a glass of dark liquor. She'd had the least to drink tonight, and Delta the most … though Delta didn't seem affected in the slightest, despite that.

The goal wasn't really to get wasted, despite how Delta had framed the initial invitation that way. Zoey didn't plan on having more than a few drinks. A step past a buzz, maybe, but definitely not well and truly drunk. Because she had plans tonight. Ones she'd prefer to be mostly sober for.

Speaking of …

"Who won, anyway?" Zoey asked. She'd been waiting to bring the topic up, because she figured there were good odds it would have Rosalie and Delta bickering. Since they'd settled into easy conversation, having relaxed around each other, it ought not to cause too much friction.

Delta grinned, and Rosalie frowned. That was answer enough, but Delta obviously wouldn't leave it implied.

"Who do you think?" Delta asked. "I called it as it happened. Turns out miss princess is real distractible. Big shocker."

Rosalie narrowed her eyes, and Zoey could see there was some real offense taken. She didn't like her combat abilities being called into question, being called 'distractible', even in such an absurd situation as 'strip spars'.

"I didn't expect you to be so shameless about it," Rosalie mumbled, cheeks turning red. She brought her drink to her lips, obviously buying an excuse to not elaborate.

"You didn't?" Delta asked. "It's almost like you're not trying to get to know me." A grin, the fox-eared girl leaning forward on her elbows.

"Eh?" Maddy asked, cutting in and blinking at the two of them. "What are you guys talking about?"

Zoey paused. It wasn't that she'd forgotten Maddy was seated at the booth with them, rather, that she'd grown comfortable with her. She'd forgotten it might be inappropriate to bring up Rosalie and Delta's spar.

Delta was the one who answered, and like usual, without missing a beat. She leaned close to the blue haired girl. "Me and blondie played a match of strip spars. Now she owes me a favor."

Maddy blushed, obviously not having expected the response. Her eyes flicked from Rosalie and back to Delta. "Oh. I, uh. I see."

"It came down to the wire," Delta continued easily. Her lack of shame seemed to help Maddy's awkwardness, but not smooth it away entirely. As Zoey already knew, Maddy wasn't the most casual person when it came to lewd topics. It was definitely the biggest hurdle for getting her to join the squad. "I had to really work for the win," Delta said. Then in a stage-whisper, leaning closer to Maddy, she said, "And between me and you, she threw the fight. She wanted me to have the favor, because she likes being bossed around."

"I do not," Rosalie protested. She glared at Delta, then, for no discernible reason, turned the look to Zoey. What had Zoey done? "Next topic, please," Rosalie said.

Zoey squeezed her knee, amused—and like usual, finding Rosalie's blushing adorable—but came to her rescue. Like she'd already figured, talking about this, and what Delta's favor would be, should happen away from Maddy.

Except, when Zoey opened her mouth to turn the conversation away from the topic, Maddy cut in.

"So, um," she started hesitantly. "What's it like, anyway? Your, uh. Shard? And … and Zoey's class. And all that. I don't know that much about it, and I probably should, in case we team up."

Maddy was a fidgety girl by her nature, wearing her emotions on her sleeve. She was genuinely embarrassed when it came to this topic. But at the same time, something else was obvious: the interested tilt in her voice, and the way she leaned forward in her seat, curious, even as she blushed.

"Yeah, we should probably talk about it," Delta said, giving Zoey a significant look. As Zoey had, Delta had picked up that Maddy's red cheeks weren't entirely from awkwardness. "We'll let the woman herself handle it. Zoey?"

It was on her, then? That was fair. She had to make sure she handled the explanation well. Getting Maddy into the party was a priority that grew with every passing lesson. Zoey liked her. And she was competent—that was important, too.

"Well," Zoey said. "I guess I'll start with my class."

Chapter 83

Chapter Text

"But first, how much did Delta tell you?" Zoey asked.

"Um. Just that your class works with … less than appropriate stuff." She seemed as embarrassed about her use of a euphemism as the topic itself. "And later, she mentioned the shards can be kind of 'that way', too."

Rosalie snorted. "A little more than 'kind of'."

Zoey patted her knee, gently chiding her. The point was to be working Maddy into the idea, testing the waters. Not to emphasize just how crazy things got. Full disclosure would happen, obviously, but tactfully. Ease into it.

Rosalie cleared her throat, realizing her mistake.

"It's not too complicated," Zoey said. "Really, that's the sum of it. My class, and because of it, the shards we go into, aren't like most. Working through them requires some intimacy."

"And I'd have to link up with you," Maddy said. She blushed an even deeper red, glancing at both Rosalie and Delta, as if worried she'd said something wrong.

Delta laughed and bumped shoulders with her. "It doesn't have to be much. Just a quick," she made a jerking-off gesture. "The only hard part is getting your damn hand around it."

Zoey would have thought Delta was addressing the topic a bit too directly, but Maddy only laughed, if higher pitch than normal. She and Delta were friends, so it made sense Delta had a better read on her than Zoey.

"And we could handle the less appropriate aspects," Rosalie added. "For the short term. While you adjust. The challenge isn't in the aspects related to Zoey's class, and how she changes the shards. More, it's in regular wayfaring. Combat capabilities. Your value as a standard team mate."

"Zoey basically fucked the boss into submission herself," Delta agreed. "Her magic's a little rusty, but she knows how to give a dicking down." Leaning closer to Maddy, she said, "Just ask blondie. They've known each other less than a week, and already girlfriends?" Delta gave her a significant look, which Maddy blushed furiously under.

"We are trying," Rosalie growled, "to talk business."

Delta made a faux show of contrition, raising her hands in an apologetic gesture. The shit-eating grin unfortunately diminished the effect. "Sorry. But, really, it is business. You're good with your spear, and Zoey's good with hers. Both relevant, isn't it?"

Rosalie glared at Delta.

"You wouldn't have to do much," Zoey said, bringing them back to the topic at hand. "And we won't be leaving for at least another week, so you have time to think about it. Get to know us, if that helps."

"It's a bit odd," Maddy admitted. "I … I definitely haven't made my mind up." She bit her lip. "How, um, intense are we talking? Does it all get?"

Zoey hesitated. She'd been wanting to not dive off the deep end so Maddy had time to digest, but if she asked outright, Zoey wouldn't lie.

"One of the challenge rooms was a dildo as thick as my thigh," Delta offered. "Came with a potion that, like, negated my anatomy. I felt that thing bumping my heart around. And it bulged my stomach out like," Delta gestured, indicating several nearly a foot. "Literally filled me up."

Maddy gaped at her.

"Unfortunately, they're not all that fun," Delta sighed. "And I'm pretty sure princess has dibs on the next one."

"Insufferable," Rosalie said simply.

"I-I think it's fine if you take those," Maddy said, stumbling over her words. "I'll stick with the normal stuff."

"You will?" Delta asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Maddy realized what she'd said. "Y-You know, theoretically. If I did come."

"If you came? Not an if. I'm guessing, six or seven times, on average."

"Delta!" Maddy's face burned under the aggressive teasing. Zoey wasn't entirely sure if this was the best strategy to be taking, but Delta would know better. "A-Anyway," Maddy stuttered, turning away from the fox-eared girl still grinning at her. "Different topic. Um." She scrambled for something, but her brain was apparently blanking out.

Zoey came to the rescue. "I'm thinking of starting a business," she said. Delta'd done a great job of cracking open some hard-to-address topics, but Zoey also though it was best they let them simmer, now, not push the point.

Fortunately, the swerve in topic was an interesting enough one to draw Delta's attention, who seemed like she wanted to keep teasing Maddy, even against her better judgment. "Huh?" she said, turning to Zoey. "You are? Those potions?"

"I talked with Sabina about it. She agrees. She thinks there's money to be made. But there's lots of details to figure out."

"What potions?" Maddy asked, eager to help solidify the change in conversation.

Unfortunately, it was only half a change.

"Zoey keeps getting lewd potion reagents," Delta explained. "She's working with an alchemist to have them refined." She turned back to Zoey. "And, yeah, no shit. There's serious money to be made, I bet. I thought your sugar mommy had you sorted, though?"

Rosalie gaped at her. "Please don't call me that."

"Please don't," Zoey agreed.

"Though, she has a point," Rosalie said. "Finances aren't something you should worry over."

"Let me guess," Delta said. "That only goes for her, not me."

"You're on your own," Rosalie agreed. She turned to Zoey, waiting for a response.

"I want to try it out," Zoey said. "Because … it's … we can talk about it later. But I don't want to mooch off your family."

Rosalie frowned, but under the table, Zoey squeezed her knee, and Rosalie didn't push the point. A significant look from Rosalie did make it clear that they would be talking about it, though.

"What kinds of reagents?" Maddy asked. The blush was mostly gone. She didn't seem as intimidated talking about lewd potions as Zoey's class or the shards they'd be delving. That was fair. The former didn't require her participation.

"An infertility one," Delta said.

"And the opposite," Zoey added.

"Wait, really?"

"Not using it for obvious reasons," she said dryly.

"But, it makes you more potent? That'd sell well, I bet. Not just as a fun potion, but for practical uses."

"Yeah. That's the plan."

"And what else?" Maddy asked.

"Some we're still messing with," Zoey said. "There's a sensitivity enhancer, though."

"Try it out yet?" Delta asked.

"No. Been meaning to."

"Too many choices?"

Zoey laughed. That was exactly it. There were a lot of items and potions she wanted to play with, but she could only have so much sex. Unfortunately.

"What kinds of details?" Rosalie asked. "That need to be figured out, I mean. You ought to be able to just rent a stall, somewhere. No?"

"It'd have to be in the red light district. But yeah, it wouldn't be that complicated. Mostly I meant long term stuff."

"Long term?"

"Sabina might be willing to head to Mantle with us, but—"

A ripple went through the table, cutting Zoey off.

"What?" Zoey asked.

Delta looked around, then wiped a hand down her face, looking exasperated. "Good thing we got the private booth."

"Sorry?" What happened? Zoey was a bit lost. Even Rosalie had pressed her lips into a line.

"Mentioning our plans to travel to the capital of enemy territory, at full volume, in a public bar, is generally inadvisable," Rosalie said. She eyed Maddy, gauging her reaction, but Maddy mostly seemed surprised, not … whatever else she would be.

"Regular people don't care much about guild relations," Delta said, "but shouting out your alignment isn't a great idea, either."

"I didn't shout." Though she hadn't been moderating her volume, and had a few drinks in her. Maybe she hadn't been quiet, either.

But yeah. She remembered now. The city of Treyhull was in Striders territory, one of the highguild's more important cities, and fairly deep into their domain. Mantle would be the seat of the Deepshunters, the opposing highguild.

"We should've made it more explicit," Rosalie said. "I just assumed—well, I shouldn't have."

Well, Zoey was feeling pretty stupid, right about now. She supposed it was obvious in retrospect.

"I don't care," Maddy offered. Delta hadn't been eying her like Rosalie had, so it seemed Delta already knew she wouldn't be strongly aligned with the Striders. "My mom's, uh, a minor member of the Sovereign, actually. So either way you three aligned, doesn't matter to me."

The announcement made Rosalie lean back in surprise. It took a second for Zoey to place the term 'Sovereign'. They were the third major political party in the fractures, a 'sort-of' highguild. They stood apart from regular politics. Wayfarers strictly interested in, well, their sovereignty, who had banded together to have the collective strength to be able to stay out of politics.

"I see," Rosalie said. "I figured Delta would have mentioned if you weren't amenable to the idea, but I forgot to ask. Sovereign, though. Who?"

"Is my mom?"

Rosalie inclined her head.

"Margaretta Quick," Maddy replied. "The illusionist."

"The Moonlight Weaver."

"You know her?" Maddy seemed surprised at that.

"Of course. It's important to know the enemy." Rosalie paused. "As a figure of speech."

Zoey could tell the correction might not be wholly the truth. Maybe Rosalie didn't consider the Sovereign enemies, but potential ones? Yes, certainly that.

Just who was her girlfriend, anyway? There were still secrets—on both sides—the two of them should talk about. Zoey intended to divulge hers. She'd made a good start with their talks during their date. But full disclosure. The insane circumstances of her transmigration and Ephy's choosing of her to be her champion. Just, she was the slightest bit worried whether she should. Whether there'd be consequences. Maybe Zoey needed to try to get in contact with Ephy. Was it even possible? Possibly not, but she should at least try. If she couldn't, then she'd talk to Rosalie, explain the situation, consequences be damned.

"But back to the alchemy store," Rosalie said, bumping shoulders with Zoey. "We interrupted you."

Well, actually, Zoey had interrupted herself by being an idiot, but she'd accept the euphemistic way to put it.

"So, Sabina might be willing to come with us when we leave, since she doesn't have much tying her down, and she's interested in the reagents we get. Plus, the money to be made. But she's not a saleswoman, and I don't have the time either, so we'd need someone to handle the business side of things. Both customer facing, and … balancing the books. And whatever." Zoey didn't actually know what went into running a business.

"So you're hiring," Delta said. "I can't imagine it'd be hard to find someone, though."

"Willing to travel?"

"Why not have one here, then get another at our destination?"

"It's not off the table," Zoey admitted. "We'd just prefer someone consistent. Someone we could bring halfway into the loop, and we trust."

"Hm," Delta said. "Well, I don't know about 'trust', but do you remember Adrienne?"

The name rang a bell. "Wait … that girl from two nights ago?" That Delta had thoroughly plowed using Zoey's own cock.

"That's her," Delta said, a smile quirking her lips that said she knew why Zoey had placed the name. "Hard to forget, right?"

She had been impressively shameless. She'd come back to Delta's room with Zoey's own cum caking her face, only half cleaned off. She'd worn it like a badge of pride. The thought had something stirring in Zoey, which she tried to fight away. "Yeah. Hard to forget. But what, she's looking for work?"

"Maybe not actively. But she's good with numbers—she works as an accountant already."

"That's not exactly what we're looking for. The business part Sabina can mostly handle."

Delta raised her eyebrows. "And you don't think that girl would make an enthusiastic saleswoman? She'd probably be offering customers to demonstrate with her. She'd have potions flying off the shelves."

Zoey coughed. Good points. Even based on the brief interactions Zoey had had with the auburn haired girl, Delta's claim she'd be willing to 'demonstrate' might be true. "Okay. Maybe it would be a good fit."

"Worth asking her?"

"If you can."

"Plus," Delta said. "If we can convince her to leave Treyhull and come with us …" She briefly lost her train of thought, then shook her head, grinning at Zoey. "I wanna share her with you, sometime. You have got to see what she's like, when things get going."

Such a casual offer of a threesome had even Zoey's cheeks coloring. Seriously, if Delta called this girl shameless, she couldn't imagine what she must be like. "I'll keep that in mind," Zoey replied. The answer was obviously 'yes', but for Rosalie and Maddy's sake, she kept the response neutral.

Delta knew it was a yes, anyway. The shit-eating grin gave it away.

Zoey sought out for a change in topic.

Chapter 84

Chapter Text

"That went well, right?" Zoey asked, collapsing back into the bed. "Maddy seems pretty open to everything. Or, is coming around on it."

The night had wrapped up, with the party of four only spending around an hour longer cradling drinks at their booth, chatting. Zoey had only had a few, but she felt the effects: the emboldening buzz that had taken up residence in her head, and the warm glow that had probably removed at least a few points of her better judgment.

Maddy had headed back to her own room, of course. Delta, though, had ended up in Zoey's and Rosalie's.

It had happened naturally. She'd trailed in and reclined back in one of the cushioned chairs without asking, because obviously she'd followed them into their room, and not back to hers.

Zoey's heart skipped a beat, thinking about how this night would be turning out. They hadn't talked about it explicitly, but all three of them knew. Delta had a 'favor' she could cash in from Rosalie. And even without that excuse, Zoey felt the tension between the three of them. Even in Rosalie, however much she pretended unaffected by Delta's flirting.

"She'll come around," Delta agreed. "I figured she would. She's a huge virgin, but I'm telling you, there's a freak somewhere in there. As the resident expert, blondie can back me up."

Rosalie sputtered, the accusation probably hitting close to home.

Zoey laughed at the telling reaction, which received a glare, but Zoey leaned up and peppered kisses into her neck, which had the irritation melting away. She was so easy to fluster.

Rosalie fended Zoey's hands away, which had accidentally started to adventure, then she blushed, standing from the edge of the bed. "I'm using the restroom. I'll be right back." She practically fled.

Zoey pouted.

Delta plopped down next to her. "She's still nervous. What's the game plan?"

For warming her up to the upcoming event. "She needs excuses. Reasons she's doing this besides how much she wants it."

"And you think she does? Want it?"

Zoey gave Delta a baffled look.

Delta laughed, and said, "Just making sure we're talking about it." She glanced toward the bathroom doorway, smirking. "But yeah. Maybe some things are too obvious to be worth clarifying."

"But game plan," Zoey said.

"I think you just need to warm her up."

"Meaning?"

"I'll use the restroom next. Give you two a few minutes to … get started. Maybe talk, if you need to."

"That's a good idea." Zoey knew how to 'give Rosalie her excuses'. It wasn't going to be particularly hard to pull off. Rosalie wanted this as much as Zoey did, for all she'd deny it up and down. "What do you have planned, anyway? For the favor?"

Delta chewed her lip. "Well … it might be going too fast. But you'll find out. It's a surprise."

For all Delta's eagerness, and rivalry with Rosalie that wasn't just of a friendly sort, Zoey trusted that she'd be considerate. And Zoey would be there, too, to see if Rosalie wasn't comfortable with what Delta asked.

A minute later, Rosalie exited the bathroom, and Delta shot Zoey a grin and departed herself, leaving her and Rosalie alone.

"And what were you two talking about?"

"Didn't listen in? Don't you have super hearing?" It was mostly a joke, but also, a possibility. As a third advancement wayfarer, her senses were supernaturally powerful. Zoey had been worried about that, to be honest.

"I'm not an eavesdropper," Rosalie said, mildly annoyed Zoey had implied it.

And, Zoey believed her. If she had been listening in, she'd be blushing.

Rosalie had sat on the bed next to her. Zoey didn't know how long Delta planned to give them, but she should work efficiently.

She scooted closer, turned, and pushed Rosalie down, crawling over her. Rosalie didn't seem surprised by Zoey going on the offensive. And without Delta there to watch, she didn't blush and flee, like a few minutes prior.

"I'm looking forward to tonight," Zoey murmured, planting a chaste kiss on her lips. "Are you?"

"You've made it obvious you want this," Rosalie murmured back. "And I suppose I don't mind playing along."

Rosalie needed her excuses. Still, having it phrased like she was only humoring Zoey wasn't ideal. "I need to know you want it at least a little." She already did know that—it was glaringly obvious—but if Rosalie couldn't verbalize it, then Zoey didn't think she was ready, despite what she wanted. "Maybe you're mostly humoring me, but that's not the only reason. Right?"

She kissed up and down Rosalie's neck, running her hands along her waist and hips, then across her stomach, digging beneath her clothing. The feel of Rosalie was so intoxicating. It wasn't fair—she was losing her train of thought.

"If it is, then I don't want this," Zoey continued. "Your comfort is much more important."

It took Rosalie a second to work past her embarrassment, but she did. "It won't be the worst thing in the world. She's … irritating … but maybe her mouth has other uses."

That was more than Zoey had been expecting. She beamed down at her girlfriend, then planted another quick kiss. "Okay. Good. And I can confirm, her mouth does. Very … enjoyable ones." Zoey and Delta hadn't had much action together, but they'd had some fun during the second shard.

"And I don't want that stupid favor looming over me," Rosalie added, needing the clarifier after how blunt she'd been. "So. Better it's taken care of."

Zoey had the confirmations she wanted, so she got to work warming Rosalie up. Her hands became more adventurous, wandering across her body as Zoey kissed her, sharing saliva and struggling their tongues together. Rosalie panted and moaned into her, despite that Zoey wasn't doing much. The excitement was palpable. The events to come had set her blood boiling.

In fact, the two of them got lost enough that when the bathroom door clicked open, they both jumped, having forgotten they weren't alone. Zoey looked up to see Delta emerge.

Delta quirked an eyebrow. "Please, don't stop on account of me. Looks like you two were having fun."

Zoey looked back down. Rosalie had lost her shirt, exposing pale skin and a lacy light blue bra. When had that happened?

Rosalie swallowed, as if looking for a retort, but Zoey saved her from having to make one. She got back to kissing.

A brief hesitance, then Rosalie relaxed.

Which was a good first step. They had to work into things slowly. Having Rosalie comfortable being kissed in front of Delta, step one.

Step two … Rosalie's hand sneaking into Zoey's pants, gripping her cock?

Zoey groaned at the unexpected pressure. Rosalie jumped, eyes shooting open, breaking their kiss. She looked down between their bodies, seeing where her hand had—apparently unintentionally—ventured to. Then her gaze flicked to Delta, who was sitting off to the side, watching the event with a highly interested glint in her eyes.

"Not afraid to get to things, are you, princess?" Delta asked. "You have company, you realize?"

Rosalie blushed, hand fleeing from Zoey's pants. Zoey was annoyed at Delta for that, but teasing was what she did—and acting normal was good for easing Rosalie into things. Zoey was pretty sure Rosalie wasn't ready to be jerking her off in front of Delta. She'd just got caught up in the moment.

Zoey got back to it. Rosalie kept better control of her hands, seemingly more aware of Delta's presence. But when Zoey had delivered a proper sloppy kissing session, and her blonde girlfriend was moaning beneath her, when Zoey's fingers went to her bra clasp, she only hesitated a second before nodding.

Zoey slipped Rosalie's bra off, tossing it to the floor. She leaned up, sitting on Rosalie's lap, and massaged away, gripping and squeezing, then tweaking her nipples, extracting moans and breathless noises. Unable to stand Delta's interested gaze, she put her arm over her eyes, letting herself be played with in the safety of ignorance.

But if she was going to cheat, then Zoey was going to ramp things up.

She shuffled off Rosalie's lap, off the bed and standing on the floor, then popped open Rosalie's pants button.

Surprisingly, though, Rosalie swatted her hands away, removing the arm that had been covering her eyes. She glared up at Zoey. "No. You are not stripping me when you're still wearing everything." She pulled Zoey onto the bed and climbed over her. Efficiently, she stripped off Zoey's shirt and bra, then, just as quickly, leaned down and took Zoey's nipples with her mouth. She flicked away with her tongue, sucking, running circles, and toying with Zoey. Zoey shivered, placing a hand on the back of Rosalie's head, pushing her in and basking in the sensation.

A proactive Rosalie. Zoey could appreciate that.

The bed indented as Delta sat at the foot. Rosalie paused, not looking back, then continued playing with Zoey. The fox-girl waited, biding her time. She shared an excited grin with Zoey, who couldn't help but return it.

A minute later, after she'd let Rosalie toy with each of her nipples, Zoey tugged the blonde girl up, then turned her around, tucking her into a hug, with Rosalie's naked back pressing into Zoey's breasts.

"It's mean to leave her out," Zoey murmured into Rosalie's ear. "Let's let her undress you."

Rosalie's eyes flicked to Delta, then she turned back to Zoey, twisting so she could pull Zoey into a kiss. Still retreating, not facing things directly, but a clear 'yes'.

Zoey briefly shared a look with Delta, flicking her eyes down toward Rosalie as if to emphasize a point. 'Get to it.'

Grinning, Delta shuffled forward, her fingers going to Rosalie's pants.

Chapter 85

Chapter Text

Zoey watched, with Rosalie still kissing her, as Delta slid Rosalie's pants down, exposing smooth, toned legs. Rosalie groaned quietly into Zoey's mouth, excited despite all pretenses she wasn't.

Zoey broke the kiss, then murmured to Rosalie, "No cheating. Watch."

Swallowing, Rosalie turned forward. Zoey leaned her chin on Rosalie's shoulder, and the two of them watched Delta plant a kiss halfway up Rosalie's inner thigh. Rosalie's panting was loud in the room—even more than Zoey's and Delta's.

"Yours too," Delta said, patting Zoey's legs.

Intuiting what she meant, Zoey squirmed her hands between her and Rosalie, then popped her pants button open. In a bit of an ordeal, she helped Delta tug them down, then off. Her underwear followed, leaving Zoey naked. With Rosalie on her lap, Zoey's cock stuck down below Rosalie's butt, pointing toward Zoey's knee.

"Scoot up," Delta told Rosalie.

Zoey helped drag Rosalie higher up her body, so that Zoey's cock had more space. Delta gripped it, then pressed it upward, into Rosalie's pussy. She was wearing her light blue panties—matching her bra—but the pressure was amazing. By the way Rosalie's breath hitched, she agreed.

"Now close," Delta instructed.

Rosalie closed her legs, squeezing Zoey's cock between her thighs and pussy. It left Zoey's impressive member sticking up, sprouting from the tight space, as if it were Rosalie's own cock.

Shuffling up closer, sitting on Zoey and Rosalie's legs, Delta gripped Zoey's cock at the base—where it sprouted from Rosalie's pussy—and said, "That's a nice cock you have there, blondie. I didn't expect a stuck-up like you to be packing so much."

Delta ran a hand up and down Zoey's cock, then pressed it forward, into Rosalie's stomach. Even with her cock having to rise up between Rosalie's thighs, it reached to her belly button.

"Then again, I guess it makes sense," Delta said. "The ego has to come from somewhere. If I had something like this between my legs, I'd walk around like I owned the world, too."

She was pretending Zoey's cock was Rosalie's, Zoey realized. It was … surprisingly hot, to both Zoey and, she could tell, Rosalie. Even without Delta's scalding eye contact being turned Zoey's way, and instead on Rosalie, Zoey's face burned at the intensity in those violet eyes. Rosalie, of course, melted under it.

Delta leaned forward, bringing her lips close to Zoey's cock head. She breathed hot air onto it, making Zoey squirm. She tried to keep her reactions to a minimum, to play into the scenario. That was Rosalie's cock, not her own. She wrapped her arms around Rosalie's stomach, watching raptly, but otherwise staying silent.

"Is it okay if I suck your cock, princess?" Delta breathed, tapping Zoey's cock into her lips. "I really want to."

Shakily, Rosalie replied, "It's better than your endless taunting, I suppose."

Smiling, Delta took Zoey in her mouth.

Rosalie shivered on top of Zoey, as if it was, truthfully, her cock with Delta's lips around it, and not Zoey's. Rosalie's hands went to Delta's head, fingers digging into orange hair, between two tall fox ears, and pushed Delta down deeper onto Zoey's cock. Onto her 'own' cock.

"A much better use of your mouth," Rosalie said breathlessly. Her voice remained shaky, though just as much from arousal as—whatever else. Nervousness? Whatever concoction of emotions was swirling through her. Rosalie wasn't experienced. This event was a lot for her. Maybe that was why Delta had chosen to roleplay like this, pretending Zoey's cock was Rosalie's, instead of actually pleasuring her. Working Rosalie into it, bit by bit.

And it was doing a great job, based on how Rosalie continued to shakily reply.

"With your throat wrapped around my cock," she said, "your presence is much more tolerable." She pressed insistently down, and Zoey's cock slid down Delta's throat without even a gag. Rosalie pressed Delta's nose into her panties, having buried her to the root. Or, the root of 'Rosalie's' cock, sticking up between her thighs. Bright violet eyes—seemingly a shade darker than normal—looked up at Rosalie, draped in lust. "Maybe more than tolerate, even," Rosalie said breathlessly.

Delta bobbed up and down, stroking Zoey's length with her throat. Rosalie shook in Zoey's lap, somehow more affected than Zoey herself. Each time Delta's nose bumped into her panties, having gone all the way down, a small gasp escaped Rosalie's lips.

Delta pulled off, leaving Zoey's glistening cock sticking in the air, and a strand of saliva bridging her lips. "Fuck, blondie, your cock tastes so good." Her fingers trailed to Rosalie's panties. "Let's get these off, yeah?"

Rosalie hesitated, briefly, then lifted her hips up, letting Delta slide her panties off. That done, Delta pressed Zoey's cock firmly into Rosalie's pussy, spreading her lips across Zoey's length. She sank back down onto Zoey's cock in a smooth motion, burying her nose into Rosalie's now-bare pubic region. Then she wiggled her head side to side, brushing Rosalie's stubbly pubic hair with her nose.

Rosalie groaned, fingers digging deeper into Delta's hair. She helped bob Delta's head up and down Zoey's cock. Zoey was finding it immensely difficult to keep quiet and not break the illusion. Having Delta's throat wrapped around her cock, and feeling Rosalie shake on top of her from excitement, Zoey's arousal was hitting obscene levels. She fought away the pleasure. She had a lot of satisfying to do tonight, considering her two partners. Couldn't finish too fast.

"A-And it's not ego," Rosalie said suddenly, breaking the lewd noises filling the air. "I have an image to maintain. I can't act however I want. But it's not ego."

Delta pulled off Zoey's cock, studying Rosalie, who blushed furiously, as if not sure why she'd said that—why she'd defended herself from Delta's earlier accusations. Zoey squeezed her stomach reassuringly, her arms still wrapping Rosalie in a hug.

Delta planted a gentle kiss onto Zoey's cock, then moved it to the side and did the same for just above Rosalie's pussy. "I think I'm starting to see that," Delta murmured. "But you're cute when you're mad, and I can't help myself."

Zoey felt Rosalie relax into her. She had wanted that reassurance. She didn't like thinking Delta thought she was arrogant. Zoey kissed the side of Rosalie's neck, and Rosalie leaned her head sideways, into Zoey's, sighing.

"But your mouth is better suited wrapped around my cock," Rosalie said. "So get back down there, cock slut."

Zoey snorted into Rosalie's neck. Borrowing her own dirty talk, was she?

At Delta's quirked eyebrow, and a glance toward Zoey, she probably intuited that, too. But she grinned and did as told. She swallowed Zoey's member, returning to her bobbing.

Rosalie's hips gyrated up and down, idly, unable to help herself. The combined attack was seriously unfair—being rubbed at by Rosalie's thighs and pussy, having her cock sucked by Delta, and just the general scalding heat of the situation.

Zoey started panting, not able to keep quiet any longer. "I-I realize I'm part of the supporting cast, right now," she groaned, "but you're pretty good at that, Delta."

Delta smirked, mouth still wrapped around Zoey's cock. She pulled off with a pop. Instead of addressing Zoey, she held eye contact with Rosalie. "Your cock's getting a lot of use tonight, so we better drain it. First shot's always the fastest, and I'm gonna want a little more endurance from you for the next few."

"Then come get your reward," Rosalie said, guiding Delta back down. "But you better not waste a drop."

Rosalie and Delta picked up speed. Beneath Rosalie, Zoey squirmed and panted. She held tight to Rosalie's stomach, her hips starting to buck, slapping her pelvis into Rosalie's butt, bouncing the bed and feeling her tight thighs and pussy rub against her length—and higher up, Delta's mouth, bobbing up and down.

"H-Here it comes," Rosalie said, voice shaking in excitement. "Your fat load of girl cum. Swallow it."

Almost as much as the sensations, Rosalie's uncertain dirty talk threw Zoey over the edge. She groaned and buried her face into Rosalie's shoulder, her thrusting reaching a crescendo. Rosalie pressed Delta's face down, burying her, knowing that Zoey was coming by her reaction. She'd had a lot of experience recognizing it.

The heat pulsing in her cock and stomach reached a peak, and Zoey let go. A whine escaped her throat as the first thick white strings ejected down Delta's throat, who swallowed it happily.

On top of her, Rosalie also started to shake, her hips rubbing up and down Zoey's cock desperately. She was cumming? Really? Her girlfriend had such a hair trigger.

Zoey didn't blame her. She'd fallen into the roleplay. By the way she pushed down on Delta's head, her own hips bucking, the same as Zoey's, Rosalie really thought, in the moment, that it was her shooting thick strings down Delta's throat.

Eventually, after the burning climax had coursed through Zoey then sagged away, Delta lifted herself up, coughing, her head swimming. It took a while for Zoey's cock to finish pumping, and Delta'd stayed down the whole time. Her hand rested on her stomach even as she steadied herself, as if amazed at the sloshing feeling of so much cum inside her.

"You really liked that, huh?" Delta asked. It seemed addressed to both of them. "But now it's my turn. You've got me worked up."

Chapter 86

Chapter Text

"Now that's a sight," Delta mumbled.

Zoey stared with wide eyes. The lustful amazement in Delta's voice mirrored how she felt. She'd known the fox girl would have a great idea for cashing in Rosalie's 'favor', but this? Well. Zoey could get behind the idea, without a doubt.

The two of them sat on the bed, side by side, looking at Rosalie, who had donned the crucial equipment for Delta's planned activities. Which was to say … Zoey's equipment. Rosalie had put on the black leather harness that affixed the linking plate, and from her crotch, sprouted Zoey's own fourteen inch monster.

It was … a confusing sight. One that had a variety of emotions swirling in Zoey. That was her cock, so she shouldn't be getting excited by it. But seeing Rosalie's enticing curves, the blush on her cheeks, while holding her—and at the same time, Zoey's—cock in her hand. It was compromising.

Rosalie looked good with a cock. That was the simple way to put it. Especially with her smaller frame. Zoey was tall for a girl, so fourteen inches—while still absurd—didn't fit quite as poorly on her as it did Rosalie. But on Rosalie, it was ridiculous.

In a good way.

In a way that had Zoey's heart slamming, and a bit dizzy.

She really needed to get Rosalie her own cock. She didn't know how, but it had to happen. For now, this was a good substitute.

"I can't believe you're making me do this," Rosalie mumbled, staring down at her cock. She wiggled it up and down, then winced. "And I can't believe … I can feel through it."

Delta had mentioned that. The linking plate had uses beyond the ones described by the item, or even that Fe had found. Not only capable of linking distances via teleportation, it linked sensations. As Rosalie tentatively bunched foreskin, exploring her new cock, Zoey felt it too.

Zoey didn't gasp like Rosalie, though. They handled the sensation differently. Zoey was plenty experienced with her cock, so a hand stroking away wasn't enough to draw a gasp. Rosalie, having only experienced it once before—back in the second shard, when she'd been in Zoey's body—had no such defenses. It was sensitive to her.

"Should've tried harder to win, then," Delta said. "This's your punishment."

Punishment. No one there thought this was remotely a punishment. Still, Rosalie had airs to put on. Zoey wouldn't have it any other way.

"And we'll take it slow," Delta added. "Ease you into it, even if you're supposed to be taking care of me. Me and Zoey will start with our mouths."

"Wait," Zoey said. "Our?"

Delta turned, raising an eyebrow. "You don't want to suck your girlfriend's cock?"

"That's my cock."

"So?"

"What do you mean so?"

"It's not that big of a deal. I've done it."

The room paused. "You … have?"

"Back when I had your body. You and blondie were too occupied to notice." Delta grinned shamelessly. "Let me tell you. Blowing a load into my own stomach … that was fun."

Zoey stared at her. She'd had no idea. And, even if Delta was able to do something like that with no reservations, Zoey wasn't half as sold. Suck her own cock?

But it was Rosalie's, too.

She really wanted to get a second chance to play with Rosalie in that way. Her memories of the first time, back in the second shard, had been great. Amazing. Getting to make her haughty blonde teammate—girlfriend, now—squirm in pleasure using her tongue and throat … she couldn't imagine anything better.

And she'd kind of done it once before. Just, Rosalie had been wearing her body—it hadn't been Zoey's cock, then, not exactly. Now, though, the sensation was linked completely. That literally was her cock, in every interpretation of the word. Just transported through the teleporting panties onto Rosalie's crotch. If Rosalie fucked her throat with it, she'd feel it. Both ends.

She'd … feel her own cock … sliding around her throat.

"You should do it," Rosalie breathed.

She, apparently, was just as enticed by the idea.

"You're not going to turn down your girlfriend, are you?" Delta teased. She leaned closer, whispering into a blushing Zoey's ear. "Imagine it. Princess's fat cock cramming your throat. The way she'd whine and moan and beg to finish inside and fill your stomach up. You don't want that? And sucking your own cock … I promise it feels as good as you think."

Zoey shivered.

Delta grinned, knowing she'd won. She waved Rosalie over, who listened. "Sit. Just remember this is a warm up. You're supposed to be taking care of me." She shook her head. "I really am too nice."

Zoey's heart skipped at the words. Shortly, Rosalie would be … inside Delta. Her own cock, and her girlfriend's, at the same time. They'd be sharing their first time with Delta, fucking her pussy together.

But before that, Zoey was being guided forward by Delta, shuffling up to either side of Rosalie.

Fourteen inches of girl cock, so much larger on Rosalie's frame, stood at attention. Delta gripped it, and two breathless noises escaped from Rosalie and Zoey.

"C'mon," Delta said, wiggling it. "Don't be shy." To emphasize the point, she placed a soft kiss on the tip.

Rosalie made a whining noise in the back of her throat. She was much more affected than Zoey. Not only because of her newness to having a cock, but because … that had been the first real sexual thing Delta had ever done to her. She'd fake-sucked Rosalie's cock, but this time, Rosalie felt Delta's lips against her cock head.

They'd be doing a lot more, shortly.

"Here," Delta said. "Just a kiss, first."

Just a kiss. Zoey stared at Rosalie's—her own—cock. A kiss wasn't so bad.

She grabbed the base of Rosalie's cock, feeling her own hand through the linking plate. Leaning forward, heart slamming, she pressed her lips to the tip in a gentle kiss. Down between her legs, she felt it.

Her lips. On her own cock. And on Rosalie's cock. Fuck, this was all … so much.

And … she needed more.

Zoey opened her mouth and carried forward. She enveloped her and Rosalie's cock with a wet heat, taking the tip in her mouth, and stroking her tongue around the outline, caressing both herself and her girlfriend.

"There you go," Delta mumbled. Zoey had closed her eyes, basking in the sensation, but she imagined the foxgirl's expression: rapt, lustful, excited.

Fingers dug into Zoey's hair, pushing her deeper. Her own cock bumped around in the back of her throat. She opened her eyes, expecting to see Delta being the one guiding her forward … but it was Rosalie.

"Deeper?" Rosalie asked breathlessly. "P-Please? You feel so good."

Zoey shivered. Obviously, she didn't stand a chance, given a request like that. Even through her hesitance—she had her own cock in her mouth—she let herself be pushed down.

Zoey's throat muscles strained to accommodate girl dick. Between her legs, her cock was squeezed with wet, tight pressure. Ahead, Rosalie moaned in her own satisfaction.

So much. It was all so much.

Then down lower on her shaft, she felt another mouth kissing and teasing. Delta, joining in. Licking along the length that Zoey had yet to work herself onto.

Zoey was melting.

Rosalie pushed. More of Zoey's own cock crammed her throat.

Unfortunately, lust didn't dispel her gag reflex. Unlike Delta and Rosalie, Zoey had little experience taking fourteen inches of cock into her throat. She gagged, her throat protesting, and was forced to pull off. Thick strands of saliva made arcs from her lips.

Delta took her place. She leaned forward, pressing her lips into Rosalie's cock. Rosalie stared down at her, wide-eyed. Delta asked the silent question—'my turn?'

Rosalie nodded, shivering.

Delta took Rosalie in her mouth.

Delta had no such inexperience. She wiggled down, swallowing fourteen inches of girl cock in a smooth motion, her throat bending out to accommodate Rosalie. Her tight muscles squeezed around the entirety of Zoey's cock. Of Rosalie's cock.

Rosalie moaned and buried her fingers into Delta's hair, enjoying her new cock sleeve. Instinctively, she started thrusting her hips in a rocking movement, working her cock—and Zoey's—around inside Delta's throat. Delta bobbed up and down, happily pleasuring her partner. To very obvious effectiveness.

Zoey briefly pouted. Obviously Delta had better skills when it came to sucking cock than she did. And Zoey could feel first hand how amazing Delta's throat was. But she would have liked to draw out a reaction like that from Rosalie.

Fine. She'd have to use the mouth skills she was actually good at. Shuffling down, she got her head between Rosalie's legs. Delta adjusted, knowing immediately what Zoey planned, lifting Rosalie's cock up and making room for Zoey.

Zoey attacked Rosalie from a second direction. Her tongue sank into her pussy, curling around in a way Zoey was much more confident in.

Rosalie gasped. "T-Too much," she groaned. "Too much!"

Zoey might have paused, but the way her hips wiggled both side to side, and up and down, in uncontrolled squirming, gave away that she didn't want either of them to stop. Two mouths played with Rosalie, quickly compromising her.

"Too much. Can't— can't—"

Delta pulled off with a pop. "Swap," she coughed. "Swap."

Maybe if she hadn't felt Rosalie's orgasm starting to squeeze her cock, Zoey would have thought twice about plunging down as it started to come. As it was, she followed Delta's instructions instantly, pulling back from Rosalie's pussy and trading places. She swallowed Rosalie's cock, her own cock, feeling it fill her throat, even as Delta plunged her tongue into Rosalie's pussy.

Rosalie cried out, the change in positions cementing the impending climax. She shoved Zoey down, then came.

Zoey came. Sharing a cock, it happened together. Heat curled around in her stomach, cock seizing, and thick strings of cum burst from her cock.

Down into her own throat.

Zoey bobbed, hazily milking out a thick load of her own cum, straight into her stomach. Rosalie's cum, too. She watched Rosalie squirm and whine, the seizing pleasure as overwhelming for her as it was Zoey. Except, for Rosalie, even more so. She came apart entirely, Delta's tongue working out one orgasm, Zoey's throat another. Rosalie jerked violently, whining incoherently, filling up Zoey's stomach with spurt after spurt.

Eventually, shaky, she withdrew, stomach full, and fell back into the sheets. She and Rosalie panted, overwhelmed with the pleasure that had coursed through them.

Delta snuggled up to Zoey, laughing at her. Maybe both of them.

When Zoey's thoughts halfway returned, Delta murmured into her ear, "Okay, for real, now. My turn. Time for you and your girlfriend to fuck me."

Chapter 87

Chapter Text

Rosalie was having a crazy night.

Not in a bad way, necessarily. Just … it was a lot.

For eighteen years, sex and romance had been nearly the last thing on her mind. She wasn't wholly inexperienced, at least in the mechanical sense. She'd played with herself, both fingers and toys, which was more than many did—those with more puritanical values, who viewed sexuality in a sinful light. Rosalie's family wasn't prudish in that way, though, and her upbringing certainly hadn't been, either. In fact, it had mortifyingly been Tanya herself, Rosalie's primary weaponmaster, who had suggested the idea as 'stress relief'.

So, not prudish, necessarily. But still inexperienced on a grander scale. She'd had more important things to focus on. Namely, stepping into the role of heiress to, arguably, the most influential guild in the world.

Going from that … to this … was a bit much.

'This'. Fucking her girlfriend's throat with her own cock. Having a cock, in the first place. Though in a roundabout way, shared with Zoey, who'd taken a thick load—Rosalie's, but also her own—straight down her throat.

It was a lot.

In a good way. In an overwhelming way.

She was having a crazy night, okay?

One that just kept getting more intense.

Better intense?

Look. She didn't know. It was a mess inside her head. Not bad. She could say that much, at least.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Zoey murmured into her ear.

Like usual, her girlfriend's voice—girlfriend—whispered so close to her, hot breath caressing her, snaked down her spine, making her shiver. Zoey's presence was intoxicating. It wasn't even her looks—though she was, by far, the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen—but rather her. So … caring. So unlike anyone else she'd met. Soft, sensitive, instantly understanding.

That was something Rosalie was unexperienced in. In her line of work, sensitivity was ground away, if it ever existed in the first place. It was a weakness best expelled. It had no place in the brutal labyrinths comprising the deepest reaches of the Fractures.

Which made Zoey's affections, likely, something also worth expelling. But Rosalie had given up trying. Zoey was impossible to push away. She didn't want to. And it shouldn't matter what Rosalie wanted, but she … was weak. Zoey made her weak. And she didn't want that to stop.

"I owe her a favor," Rosalie finally replied. She whispered the response. Zoey had cozied up to her, checking in on Rosalie before the main event of the night.

"But you're fine with it," Zoey insisted. Serious green eyes held her own. How were they so transfixing?

The words annoyed Rosalie. The way Zoey was treating her. Both of them, for that matter. Like she were delicate. Double and triple verifying each of their advances, ensuring Rosalie was 'okay' with everything. Even Delta, that endlessly annoying woman, had made it redundantly clear that Rosalie didn't have to 'pay out' on the favor. Not explicitly, but with body language, careful glances and concerned looks.

When the two of them were being so obvious about this being Rosalie's choice, how was she supposed to pretend? That she didn't desperately want this?

How was she supposed to save face?

She guessed viewing it that way wasn't fair. It wasn't how this should work. She hardly had experience in relationships, but she was pretty sure they shouldn't be founded on facades, like Rosalie so desperately wanted.

Still. So embarrassing.

"It's my choice," Rosalie said, finally. "I know that." She refused to outright say she wanted to fuck her irritating orange-haired teammate. It was what Zoey would prefer—stating outright, explicit intent—but Rosalie would curl up and die if she had to. After so much rivalry? Rivalry that still existed. She and Delta were hardly lovers. She was just … interested. In Delta's body. Mostly because of Zoey's interest. She wanted to indulge Zoey's desires. That was what a girlfriend did.

Her own … mild arousal … was incidental.

Zoey held her eyes for a second longer, then smiled, satisfied. Rosalie blushed and looked away. She hated how easily Zoey read her.

Zoey kissed her on the cheek, then gave her one last encouraging smile. That done, she shuffled across the bed, crawling over Delta, who'd been lounging to the side, waiting for Zoey to 'work Rosalie up to the event'. Not that Delta had framed it like that. Just, Rosalie knew what was happening. She wasn't clueless.

Which left her sitting there, leaning against the headboards, watching her girlfriend lay herself out across another woman. The woman she'd be fucking shortly. With her girlfriend's cock. Which was also her own.

What a night.

"She's ready," Zoey murmured to Delta, perched atop her. The orange-haired girl had a flush to her cheeks—an excited anticipation that was clear as day. "Are you?"

"Am I ready to get plowed by fourteen inches of girl cock?" Delta asked. "Hm. Let me think about it."

Zoey laughed.

"But you have to kiss me first," Delta said. "I'm hardly a romantic, but it feels wrong to fuck before we kiss."

Zoey paused. They hadn't, had they? They'd done all sorts of other things, but not kiss.

"Well, you never gave me that privilege," Zoey said dryly. "If I'm remembering right, you fucked me with my own cock, no hesitations. No kissing."

"I fucked myself with my own cock," Delta said pointedly. "You were just inside my body. A passenger. That was a me-and-me event."

Zoey raised her eyebrows. From Zoey's perspective, that event had been so exciting because it was Delta inside Zoey's body, fucking her. But she was learning that claim—that Delta wasn't a romantic—was true.

"And I'd known you less than a day," Delta added. "It was different. You were a fling."

"And now?"

"Now … " Delta trailed off, then blushed. "It's just different."

Zoey could intuit the lack of response. Now, it wasn't just sex. Maybe not romance, yet, but inching that way. Which was odd—Delta didn't seem like the kind of person to shy from that. But she had. She'd deflected. Why?

"It's not that big of a deal," Delta said. "Just—we should kiss, first."

Zoey didn't protest. She leaned forward and, gently, but not as chastely as her first kiss with Rosalie, took Delta's mouth. Delta melted into her, pulling Zoey's head closer, forcing Zoey's mouth open. Zoey smiled as they sloppily explored each other. Not a blushing first kiss like with Rosalie—but that made sense.

Behind her, the bed indented, Rosalie having shuffled up behind them.

Well. This was happening, then. Rosalie was … fucking Delta. With her girlfriend laying on top, eagerly tongue-fucking her.

Fourteen inches of cock throbbed between her legs. Delta and Zoey only half seemed to acknowledge her, caught up in their own activities. That was a good thing. It gave Rosalie a reprieve. If both their attention had been on her as she shuffled up, cock in hand, she might have quailed, lost her nerve. Because as much as she wanted this—the extent of which she refused to consciously acknowledge—it was a lot. To deal with. To come to terms to.

Was it intentional, the way Zoey had ensnared Delta's attention? Knowing Rosalie needed the opportunity to shuffle up, without being the focus?

Maybe. Or maybe she'd just wanted to kiss Delta.

That didn't bother Rosalie. She didn't believe hearts could only be shared one way. Zoey seemed more possessive in that regard, but her opinions weren't Rosalie's. And her possessiveness … that also wasn't something that bothered her. Rosalie didn't have time enough for one romance, much less several. It was good, even, that Zoey had others to keep her satisfied. As long as she didn't neglect her.

She looked down at the two girls stacked on top of each other. Zoey was wearing the pink portal panties, so not much was exposed. Not much sensitive, at least. She was still naked, and her sensual form—back, legs, the curve of her ass, cupped by the panties—was still plenty to admire.

But Delta. Delta was truly naked, not a single article of clothing. Down lower, she was exposed and excited, glistening in anticipation.

Waiting.

Waiting for Rosalie's cock. To thrust in, stuff her full, and finally bring her much needed relief, which Delta had been denied, having doted on Zoey and Rosalie so thoroughly. She'd made it her first priority to have this … event … be seamless. For everyone to be comfortable.

For Rosalie to be comfortable. Why did she care? Weren't they … enemies? The thought dispelled as soon as she had it. Maybe they weren't lovers, and maybe even they didn't like each other—not in all ways—but that didn't mean enemies in the literal sense.

Delta broke apart from Zoey, breathing heavily. "Seriously, blondie. Hurry up and fuck me."

Rosalie realized she had frozen, heart pounding, a few inches from Delta. Stalling. Or, not stalling, simply working up the nerve.

Zoey, equally breathless from her thorough make-out session, turned around, so her back was pressed into Delta. Delta's arms wrapped around Zoey's stomach, tucking her in. Zoey locked a stunning green-eyed gaze to Rosalie, smiling encouragingly, cheeks flushed in excitement.

Delta nibbled at Zoey's ear, then, Rosalie still not having moved, said, "Pretend it's your girlfriend's pussy if you want," Delta said. "I just need a fucking cock inside me, okay? I don't care if it's yours. So fuck me."

Rosalie had strong suspicions that she had picked those words carefully. Abstracting Rosalie, making her 'just a cock'. She saw through them. Delta was flushed with the idea it was her. That she was the one that would be inside her, shortly.

But it was an excuse. Given to her.

Delta just 'wanted cock'. To be fucked, well and thoroughly. That it was Rosalie was irrelevant. She was just the nearest warm body.

Never mind Zoey was there and could have done so herself. Never mind Delta had orchestrated the 'strip spars' to arrange this.

Rosalie gripped her cock, pressing the tip into Delta's pussy, spreading the fox-girl's lips. She wiggled it around, digging just barely inside, but not. Above, Zoey panted in excitement, feeling Rosalie's, and her own, cock rub against wet, welcoming heat. A pussy neither of them had ever fucked, and would be doing so, together.

"Stop … teasing," Delta groaned, burying her head into Zoey's neck. "Fuck me! I need your fucking cock, blondie. Hurry up and—"

Delta cut off with a gasp.

Chapter 88

Chapter Text

Delta's velvety pussy wrapped around Rosalie's cock, cutting off her complaints with a moan. Rosalie's mind went white. Inside. Her cock was inside Delta. Her infuriating teammate. And on top of her, Rosalie's girlfriend was moaning in her own pleasure, the sensations squeezing Rosalie's cock shared between them.

Rosalie pushed her hips forward, sinking inch by inch deeper into the woman a few moments earlier begging for her cock. How did it feel so good? She'd almost forgotten how amazing pussy felt. It'd only been a few days, but it was hard to hold on to such intense memories, like that event with Zoey in the second shard, where she'd extracted the first several of Rosalie's cock orgasms.

And now it was Delta's turn to milk her cock dry. She sank further and further into the busty fox-girl, cock being squeezed and clamped by a tight, slippery pleasure. She felt so good. And Zoey, laying on top of Delta, with Delta's arms wrapped around her stomach, was happy to make that clear. She panted, red-faced, hips wiggling as if upset she wasn't the one in control.

"Fuck, blondie," Delta groaned. "It feels even bigger than it looks. I'm so full."

Leaning forward, her hands pressing into the bed on either side of the two stacked girls, Rosalie got to work. She pushed the last several inches in, burying herself until their bodies met. Zoey had to shuffle a few inches back. It was an awkward position, her girlfriend piled onto the girl Rosalie was fucking. But so much better, getting to see her reactions, getting to share the moment so intimately. Fucking Delta's pussy, together.

She pulled back, velvet pressure caressing her cock on the way out, then slapped back in, stuffing Delta with a loud clap accompanied by three moans. Zoey's hips did a little jerk, as if needing to mimic the motion.

Slowly, Rosalie worked into a rocking cadence. Both Zoey and Delta kept red-faced, panting eye-contact with her, encouraging her with begging eyes. More. They wanted more. Did they have any idea how unfair that was? How compromising? The dual attack of purple eyes and green ones?

Rosalie picked up speed. Delta's pussy felt so good. She worked fourteen inches of cock in and out, impacting hard, jostling both girls, bouncing theirs tits with accompanying moans or whines. She was unpracticed at the movement, especially with how far she had to move back, then forward, to have as much of her cock as possible caressing Delta's pussy. The pistoning movement was a bit jerky. Eager, made up for with enthusiasm, but still jerky.

Each passing moment had Rosalie's better senses evaporating, the euphoria of fucking the subject of her unfortunate arousal erasing her mind. Because she could admit that, now, with Delta's pussy coaxing out a burning, clenching sensation in her stomach. With Delta's moans, Rosalie could admit she'd wanted this. That her girlfriend wasn't the one who'd been taking interest in by Delta's busty curves.

And really, all the times she'd aggravated Rosalie? That made this better. Getting to stuff her full and take her apart. Feeling her pussy wrapped so tightly around her and her girlfriend's dick.

"Where'd the taunting go?" Rosalie asked, joining their lower halves with loud, forceful impacts. "Is this all it takes to shut you up?"

"A-All?" Delta groaned. "Is fourteen inches of cock supposed to be—ah! Easy? To take?"

"But after so much talk. The way you act about all this. You're just as vulnerable." That revelation pleased Rosalie more than she'd expected. Delta was as weak to pleasure—to getting filled up by an enormous girl-dick—as her, Zoey, or anyone else. She might act like she was experienced, and could brush anything off, but the noises she was making now, with Rosalie's hips slapping into her? It showed the truth of the matter.

"If it's this easy to get you to show your true colors," Rosalie murmured. "Me and my girlfriend might have to fuck you silly more." She picked up speed, the idea thrilling through her. Each reminder that this was Zoey's cock she was fucking Delta with had the heat burning across her body reaching a more scalding degree.

"It's good for team bonding," Zoey gasp-agreed. "More often, definitely. Faster, Rosie. Go faster."

Rosalie obeyed. She adjusted positions, briefly, to get better leverage—then really started working. On top of Delta, Zoey shuffled around, turning so she and Delta were facing each other.

"Wow," Zoey murmured to her, bodies jostling as Rosalie diligently pistoned away. "You're close, already? You're going to cum before my girlfriend?" The fox-girl's eyes had gone unfocused. "It's only her second time with a dick, and you're going to lose?"

"I-It's a pretty good dick," Delta struggled out. "And she already finished. Twice. I haven't."

"All our playing around worked you up?" Zoey asked. "I guess that's fair. But still. Coming first. How embarrassing."

Behind the two girls, Rosalie just listened, melting as she pumped cock into a slippery, squeezing pussy. Seeing Zoey tease the girl she was actively fucking … on behalf of Rosalie … why was it so titillating?

"And don't be so sure," Delta groaned. "She's looking a little … into it. Can't be far herself."

Rosalie only half-heard the words. Delta's pussy was so amazing. And this feeling building in her core, radiating outward, burning away her sense of self. It was so intense.

"Can she finish inside you?"

"If she begs, maybe," Delta groaned.

It was a bluff. Delta wanted it. But Zoey turned, meeting lust-darkened green eyes with Rosalie's, silently prompting her. She wanted Rosalie to beg. She liked it when Rosalie embarrassed herself.

And with such tight, slippery pleasure working around her cock, Rosalie hesitated only a second.

"Please, Delta. I want to come inside you. I want to empty my cock in your squeezing pussy. Please." The words left her mouth, her face almost numb with how badly it was burning. And the shameful words—they only spurred that sensation in her cock on. She groaned at the burning euphoria, which continued to wipe away her hesitation. "Let me stuff your womb full. Let me breed you with my girlfriend's cock. I'll do anything. Please."

Delta's eyes widened. She hadn't expected her to be so enthusiastic. Zoey, of course, wasn't surprised. She knew Rosalie tended to … lose her better judgment … when things got going.

"I guess I can—ah—make an exception, then," Delta said.

"I can cum inside your pussy? Really? Because I'm close. Together? Milk my cock? I want to feel you cum for me." Like before, Rosalie was stealing lines from Zoey. Lines that had worked on her, and so, why not on Delta?

It was a good plan, apparently. The lewd words had Delta closing her eyes, her body starting to shake. "Okay. Since you asked … so nicely." The last word was inflected up, Delta's back arching as she started to come.

An already tight, coaxing pressure became twice as much so, Delta's orgasm clamping down on Rosalie's cock. Already a hair's breadth away from her own climax, Rosalie groaned and slapped her hips one final time, joining their lower halves. She buried her face into Zoey's back, who'd started kissing Delta. Really. Kissing the girl she'd brought to orgasm. The girl she was stuffing with cock. It was so … hot. The pleasure hit a crescendo, and Rosalie groaned as she came.

The hot liquid seared up her cock as it left her, spilling into Delta's pussy. It felt so amazing. And knowing she was filling her foxgirl sort-of rival up, even more so. She rocked her hips back and forth, coaxing out thick string after thick string, filling Delta's womb up with her—or Zoey's—seed. Using her girlfriend's cock to stuff another girl's pussy. It wasn't unusual to be involved with multiple partners, but the extent to which the idea had Rosalie's cock seizing … was she some sort of deviant?

Zoey's cock was an insatiable thing. It kept twitching and twitching, pumping hot baby batter into Delta with no signs of slowing. Rosalie kept her face buried into her girlfriend's back, her hips bucking with each new searing ejection. How long would it last? Forever? She hoped so. She never wanted to stop stuffing Delta full. Her cock belonged in that squeezing warmth permanently.

Eventually, though, the writhing of the three girl's orgasms ended, and they collapsed into each other, panting in a stack of sweaty limbs.

Zoey, probably knowing Rosalie's post-finish shame would rear up, was the first to stir, shuffling around and forcing them to disentangle. She pushed Rosalie over and started kissing her, peppering her with compliments and assurances.

It did a good job of wiping her shame away—had she really begged Delta to finish inside?—but only because it replaced it with embarrassment of a different kind. Really, Delta was watching. Did Zoey have to kiss Rosalie so tenderly? Never mind that Rosalie had just fucked Delta and came inside her—this kissing was ten times more intimate. Something they should save for private.

And afterward, they all cuddled up, Zoey forcing Rosalie in the middle. Being pressed in by Delta's warm body was odd. It stirred feelings in her that she was used to sharing only with Zoey. That seemed to be intentional on Zoey's part, the meddling woman. Still, pressed in by the generous, warm curves of her girlfriend, and … her other teammate? Hardly a horrible fate.

Rosalie closed her eyes and basked in it.

Chapter 89

Chapter Text

Waking up cuddled into one girl was pretty amazing. Waking up with two warm, naked bodies pressed into her? Zoey solidified her decision: her transmigration between worlds had some troubling aspects to it, but overall, she was definitely enjoying herself.

And there was another bit of good news, Zoey realized, luxuriating in the heat and soft curves of her girlfriend and teammate. By the tingling on the back of her neck, she'd leveled up. Unfortunately, Zoey remained incapable of discovering what that entailed. She needed to learn to read her 'tabula anima', as Rosalie had called it.

Then again, maybe not. She had Rosalie for that. Apparently, it wasn't a trivial process to learn, and so Zoey would rather spend her time elsewhere.

Plus, Rosalie always blushed when she got to do it. It was apparently a deeply intimate act, and so, Zoey was happy to share that with her.

Soon enough, Rosalie stirred. At the shifting bodies, Delta did too, but she simply groaned and rolled over, annoyed. Zoey had discovered the fox-girl was very much not a morning person. That came in handy, right now. She enjoyed Delta's presence, and would like her input on this upcoming conversation, but for now, she wanted to share it with Rosalie first.

Once Rosalie had fully woken—turning around to snuggle into Zoey while facing her—she broached the topic.

Like usual, Rosalie was incredulous at the speed Zoey's advancement had come. Then, a moment later, having placed a finger to Zoey's forehead and sent that strange 'request', became even more so.

"All four," she said, incredulous. "You progressed in all four of your runes."

Obviously, Zoey wasn't half as stunned. She didn't have the appropriate context—the lifetime of experiences spent in this world—to appreciate how bizarre it was. Though Rosalie's tone, her astonishment, clued her in.

Still, rather than be awed, Zoey chose to be cheeky about it. "I've been working hard, haven't I?"

Rosalie eyed her. "Working hard. That's what last night was?"

"I'm sorry, what are my runes, again? How am I supposed to progress them?"

An even more of an evil eye. "Fair point." She shook her head. "Still. All four … that makes you third advancement. In less than a week."

"Third advancement in name only," Zoey pointed out. Most certainly, not in practice.

Though, her arcana rune. A combat-practical rune of hers had advanced. Surely that'd help inch Zoey along the path of being a 'real' wayfarer.

"And they're good?" Zoey asked. "The new skills."

"They're skills from you," Rosalie said, exasperated. "What do you think?"

Zoey chuckled. Though, the skills were clearly not anything so mind-blowing that Rosalie was speechless. But Zoey expected Rosalie's expectations had been tempered from her previous skills, so it would take something truly astounding to draw a stunned reaction from her.

"Well?" Zoey asked. "Don't keep me waiting. Start with the gross ones."

"Surprisingly, there aren't any," Rosalie said. She paused. "Or, not like before. Your alchemy rune comes close."

"Oh?"

"Potent Additive," Rosalie read off. "Sexual fluids can be used to amplify potions in various ways."

Zoey was briefly confused. Hadn't she already been making potions that way? Then, she realized the difference. "Oh. Additive. So something after it catalyzes." She laughed at the absurdity. "I make cum-base potions, then add cum to make them even stronger."

Rosalie wrinkled her nose, pretending to be disgusted, but Zoey saw the curl to her lips hinting amusement.

And Zoey, taking advantage of her newly found girlfriend status, chose to force it out. She grabbed Rosalie's waist and pulled her in, peppering her with kisses. "And you think it's funny too. Stop pretending."

"Zoey," Rosalie protested.

"Stop being so serious. I will tickle you, if I have to."

"You will not."

The effusiveness of the reply made Zoey pause. She raised her eyebrows.

"I am not someone who is tickled," Rosalie said firmly. She seemed panicked by the concept.

Zoey grinned.

"Zoey. Zoey! You better not—"

Zoey attacked.

'Squealing' hadn't been something Zoey had ever expected to draw out of her too-serious girlfriend, but it happened so easily. Unfortunately, she couldn't press the advantage. Rosalie was out of the bed, standing there and huffing—glaring—almost faster than Zoey could track.

"Do you mind?" Rosalie demanded. "We are trying to talk business."

"No, do you two mind?" Delta groaned, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it over her head, muffling her voice. "I'm trying to sleep. Go be cute somewhere else."

Really not a morning person.

And, Zoey did feel a bit bad about how she'd attacked despite Rosalie's protests. But she hadn't been able to help herself. And the reaction had been way too adorable. "Okay, okay," she said. "I'm sorry. Now get back here." She gestured for Rosalie to return to her embrace. She'd starting missing her warmth in only the few seconds since she'd been gone.

At the suspicious look, Zoey promised: "No more tickles. I didn't know you were so weak to them."

"I'm not weak to them."

"Clearly not," Zoey agreed. "That was what that reaction was. A strong, stoic one. Practically immune."

Another glare, but Rosalie got back in bed with Zoey.

"Runes," Rosalie said pointedly.

"Runes," Zoey agreed, tugging her girlfriend in close. "Magic next?"

"Influence," Rosalie said. "Cast spells that inflame or mute internal statuses."

"And what do you think that means?"

"All sorts of applications, I imagine. Almost an element."

One of Zoey's first skills had been 'Element: Ice'. Here, she'd gotten something that fell under an umbrella of 'affect internal statuses', so almost an element, like Rosalie had said. "Huh. But I'll probably have to practice and learn specific spells. It's not a freebie."

"It would seem so."

"Any suggestions?"

"Practical first forays?" Rosalie hummed, thinking about it. "Enraging an opponent could be useful in certain circumstances. More importantly, the boss is generally the most dangerous part of a shard, and considering … the shape they take, with you …"

"A spell-aphrodisiac," Zoey guessed. "Not useful against normal enemies, but great against the lewd phase of a boss."

"Precisely my thinking."

The wording—so prim and serious—made Zoey smile. Unable to stop herself, she leaned forward and pecked Rosalie on the lips.

"What was that for?"

"You're just so cute." She stole another kiss. "Do you really expect me to resist?"

Blushing, but pretending to be exasperated, Rosalie pointedly continued, "And which next?"

"Two more to go. Start with the less cool one. It's important to end on a high point."

Rosalie rolled her eyes at the dramatics, then considered Zoey's request. "Burst," she said a short moment later, not having to think hard which was the weaker. "From your rune of sensuality. Lust can be consumed in greater quantities to amplify potency of certain other skills."

"That's the obviously weaker one?" Zoey asked, impressed. "Sounds strong."

"Your rune of bonding is your mythic-tier one," Rosalie said pointedly. "I suspect it'll always have the most powerful skills."

Well, now she'd gotten Zoey excited. But, she saved the best for last. And they ought to talk over this one first. "So, lust is even more of a burst resource, now."

"It's expensive to begin with, but can be drained at even higher speed, for even more potent skills," Rosalie agreed. "That might be troublesome. It depends how much faster."

"Or we could just recharge after every fight," Zoey joked.

"I realize you're insatiable," Rosalie said. "But surely there would reach a point where it's simply exhausting."

"With you? Never."

Rosalie blushed. The cheesy lines did tend to work on her.

Though, Rosalie had a point. Zoey could rationally recognize that, amazing as endless sex sounded in an abstract sense, there would come a point where managing her lust resource would simply be too much work. The skill was intended for important, powerful skills, not something she burned through constantly and recharged after each fight.

"Not just spells, too," Zoey said. "It boosts any of my skills."

"Indeed. From the wording."

Zoey considered that. Her most useful ability, combat- and team-speaking, remained Bolster, which empowered Rosalie or Delta. Giving them an even more powerful burst of strength and speed was undoubtedly going to be the strongest use of her Burst skill, too.

"And the big reveal?" Zoey asked.

"It's not a skill with flair," Rosalie said. "But powerful. Share. All bonded targets receive a small percentage of each other's stats."

"Oh, wow." Like Rosalie said, nothing 'fun', but the merit of the ability was blatantly clear. "How much is small?"

Rosalie shrugged. "Passive stats, scaling not only with, but to the entire team. Unless it's obscenely low—and this is a mythical rune, so I find that unlikely—it's going to be incredible."

"Cool," Zoey said.

Rosalie huffed.

"What?"

"Cool, she says. After receiving one of the most fantastic support skills I've ever heard of." She paused, then clarified: "For a third advancement."

"What can I say? I'm spoiled." She placed a kiss into the side of Rosalie's jaw. "I feel like that's obvious. I have you in my bed."

"You're in an especially sappy mood, this morning," Rosalie said, pretending to suffer Zoey's affection.

She definitely was. After last night, and all the new abilities she'd earned today, how couldn't she be?

Though, definitely more the former than the latter. Magical skills were cool, but Rosalie and Delta? They obviously stole the spotlight. The magic stuff was just the cherry on top.

Chapter 90

Chapter Text

"As an additive, you said?" Sabina asked, intrigued. "Just yours?"

"Just mine?"

"Just your semen? How was it worded?"

Zoey paused. Naturally, she'd broached the subject of her newest skill with her alchemy tutor, and this was the exact reason why. As the expert, she'd easily be able to identify uses or quirks of her skills. And sure, Rosalie and Delta had made it clear keeping her class a secret was the standard, but Zoey didn't care much for 'the standard', at this point.

Though, Zoey felt a bit embarrassed about the obvious deduction Sabina had made. "The exact wording was, sexual fluids can be used to amplify potions in various ways. So based on that, you think it works with anyones?"

"And various sexual fluids," Sabina said. "Not just semen. Though that would clearly be the easiest to collect."

Zoey nodded. Then, grimaced. "I'm not particularly keen on … collecting from a man."

"Only interested in women. Yes, I inferred that. Fortunately, it isn't a problem."

"It … isn't?"

"I apologize if you were looking forward to discovering this yourself," Sabina said, "or perhaps with me, but I was too curious to not do my own experiments. I discovered something, last night."

That had a promising sound to it. "Okay?"

"Your semen is clearly a potent magical fluid," Sabina said, smoothly, in that same evenness that Zoey found a combination of amusing and impressive, considering the topic. "Hence, not just as a base, I did some experiments with it as a reagent."

"A reagent." Zoey adjusted to that. She still didn't know where Sabina was going. "And …" If Sabina said it solved the problem of Zoey not wanting to collect sexual fluids from men …

No way?

"I presume you've guessed it," Sabina said. "Indeed. I suspected the same effect, and thus targeted, it was simple to coax out. When catalyzed, your semen produces a potion that temporarily grows genitalia. For example, a cock on a woman."

"No shit," Zoey breathed.

She'd been waiting for something like that to arrive, whether through a potion, skill, or item. And here it had arrived? She could give her partners a cock?

She supposed it made sense. Zoey's cum—a substance stemming from a cock grown on a woman—would catalyze into a similar effect. How hadn't she guessed that?

To be fair, she had a lot on her plate. Lots of distractions, and a packed schedule.

"Notably," Sabina said, "it gives a superb outlook to our budding business. Not only will the effect be highly desired, but the reagent itself is renewable and simple to procure."

Zoey coughed. Easy to procure. Yeah, when Sabina intended to milk her twice a day, it sure would be. Zoey'd just arrived to Sabina's store, so they hadn't handled their first session, but it would be coming up shortly, if she had to guess. Especially now that she had additional need to keep a 'good stock'.

"You tested it?"

"I did indeed," Sabina replied, quirking an eyebrow. "It was … an odd sensation."

Zoey's heart jumped. She'd tested it. Sabina had grown herself a cock. That imagery was hard to resist. Something stirred in her pants, which Sabina politely ignored.

"Took me all sorts of getting used to," Zoey said, feigning a nonchalance that was given away by her traitorous lower half. "How big was it?"

Sabina raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure that's a question for polite company."

Zoey paused. Right. Even if they'd grown more familiar with each other, that didn't mean Zoey should go asking whatever came to mind. She wondered whether she should apologize, but Sabina cut in.

"That was a joke," she said. "I see I continue to be not very good at those." She waved her hand dismissively, brushing past the topic. "I don't mind speaking of it. It was nine and a half inches with a six and one-third circumference. It curves seven degrees to the left. Repeated ingestions resulted in consistent biology, which I found intriguing."

Even described so clinically, in classic Sabina fashion, the idea thrilled through Zoey. While not as outrageously over-sized as Zoey's own monster, nine and a half inches was still pretty absurd. That was more than enough to stuff someone silly. Wouldn't fit in most girls, even. Would the potion give the same natural accommodation Zoey received?

"Nine inches," Zoey grinned. "Was that fun?"

"I didn't experiment with it in the way you're assuming," Sabina said. "I found the sensations too … new … to enjoy. Perhaps with some adjustment."

Zoey worried for a moment that she'd overstepped by implying otherwise, but Sabina was, of course, unruffled. Still, Zoey had known Sabina preferred 'giving' than 'receiving', so it made sense she hadn't gone crazy with her experiments. Probably should have assumed it.

"What happens if I drink it, though?" Zoey found herself asking.

Sabina paused. She clearly hadn't considered it. While a thorough scientist, she was still human—she didn't always consider every possibility. Here and there, a possibility would slip her mind. "Hm," she said. "I imagine nothing? I postulate that for men, they'd grow their missing part. But you? You already have both."

Zoey blinked at the first half of that statement, but brushed past it to the second. "Maybe I get two?"

"I suppose it's not impossible," Sabina said. "I think it more likely it would simply fizzle."

It was hard to say which won out—Zoey's experience in her class's lewd interactions, or Sabina's vast expertise. Probably the second, honestly. It would be way too lucky to get two amazing effects from one potion.

"But moving along," Sabina said. "We'll experiment with your new skill shortly, but we have a preliminary task to handle."

Zoey's heart skipped a beat.

"I hope you studied the suggested material," Sabina said coolly, "because as I informed you, your reward depends on your performance."

"I tried to." She generally didn't like making excuses, but in her case, they were pretty relevant. "I'm busy. And last night was, uh. I didn't have time to study." Then, because she wasn't wholly a bad student, "but I squeezed it in where I could. I really am trying my hardest. Just … lots of things pulling me in lots of directions."

"That's reasonable," Sabina said. "And I suspected as much." She approached Zoey, and Zoey's eyes widened. Sabina was one of the rare women taller than her, and combined with her antlers, she towered. More than her height, even, it was her personality, which while not dominant in the traditional sense, had an equal presence. Stalwart, collected, immutable. "But just because I understand, doesn't mean I lower my standards. You'll find the quiz difficult." She cupped Zoey's chin, tilting her head up. "If you get all ten questions right, well …" A hint of a smile. "I'm sure you can guess what the final reward is."

Letting go of Zoey and turning, headed for the main storefront, she continued, "But the lesser rewards. You might enjoy those, too. Come. Our time is limited. Best to be quick about things."

Heart galloping, a stupid grin on her face, Zoey trailed after.

Chapter 91

Chapter Text

Zoey found herself, once again, strapped down on Sabina's reclining metal chair. Her instructor went about organizing her work table, ignoring Zoey as she shifted around. Letting the tension build. She could recognize the intent, but that didn't mean it didn't work. Fuck, just a few short moments from now, and Sabina would be taking care of her.

Well. Assuming she did well on the quiz.

A quiz.

Really? Zoey was expected to focus? With so much anticipation flooding her veins? Not fair. She wasn't sure she'd be able to answer even the most basic of questions.

Finally, Sabina finished her superficial tidying of her workbench. She turned to Zoey.

"Your first question," she said, folding her hands in front of her, pointedly standing several feet away—not yet approaching.

So, nothing at all would be happening, not unless Zoey got at least some questions right. No 'give-me's.

"What," Sabina said, "is the purpose of the calcinator in the alchemical process?"

That was one of the questions?

Sabina must have recognized the surprise on her face, because she said, "We'll work on a scale of progressing difficulty."

So the first would be painfully easy, like what one of the fundamental pieces of alchemy equipment did. That made sense.

"It's a furnace that helps prepare reagents," Zoey said. "A, uh, prep tool."

Sabina didn't mind the lack of elegance in the response. Knowing Sabina, she could probably have recited a textbook definition, as well as the source she'd memorized it from. Zoey didn't work like that. She was certain she would never be the genius Sabina was, and that didn't bother her. Her aspirations were to be 'pretty good', maybe even 'great', but Sabina was something else entirely. Zoey was utterly confident that her lack of renown came from how early in her career Zoey had found her. Even then, she did have recognition—Fe had been the one to point Zoey Sabina's way, claiming she was one of the 'best in the field when it came to the esoteric'.

"An acceptable answer," Sabina said smoothly. Her fingers went to her lab coat's buttons, and Zoey's heart jumped. Slowly, making sure to tease, her teacher stripped from her concealing white coat, leaving …

Just a bra and panties, underneath. She'd come prepared. Zoey drank in the sight, the dark, lacy fabric set against smooth skin. Really, it was unfair how amazing of a body Sabina had, when she always locked it behind her lab coat.

Sabina's eyes flicked down to Zoey's growing bulge, and, like usual, Zoey didn't see a hint of a reaction. Why did that passivity do so much for her?

She really, really wanted to see what it took to make Sabina squirm. Could she manage it? Could she pin down Sabina and fuck her until she was moaning and coming apart like any other girl? Or would that stone face persist through anything? Somehow, that sounded just as exciting.

She desperately wanted to find out.

It was a tragedy she wouldn't, today. Answering all ten questions correctly was an impossibility. She was certain Sabina had prepared it so that the later questions would be beyond Zoey's capabilities. It would encourage her to study harder.

Shrugging off the thick white coat, then folding and setting it to the side, Sabina approached. She sat down on the stool next to the table Zoey was strapped down onto, then said, "Don't get too excited. You need to focus."

"I'm aware," Zoey said. Her eyes crawled across Sabina's body, basking in the exposed skin. "But that doesn't mean I can stop myself from looking."

Sabina's lips tilted, and she shook her head in exasperation. Zoey could tell—behind the layers of stone—that she enjoyed being admired. Obviously, Zoey was happy to indulge in that.

"Question two," Sabina said firmly, making Zoey's heart skip—because a correct answer meant more. Direct satisfaction? "What is the purpose of quicklime?"

"As a primary or preparatory reagent?"

Sabina seemed satisfied at the response. "You have been studying."

"It's interesting," Zoey said. "I think your passion rubs off on me."

"I'm not called a passionate woman, often."

"It's a different sort. Not in-your-face. But it's obviously there."

Sabina studied her. Finally, she said, "The question was intended for quicklime's typical usage."

"It's more often used for preparation. It helps the dissolving process."

"Which means, from a functional sense?"

"Easier catalyzation with elements slow to dissolve."

Sabina stood.

Then climbed on top of Zoey, sitting on her thighs. Seeing how Zoey had a monster in her pants, even not situated on her lap, it meant her cock pressed against Sabina's ass as Sabina straddled a safe distance away. By the pause, then purse of her lips, Sabina realized that her attempts to space herself hadn't worked. Snorting, she scooted up, so she was seated on Zoey's lap.

"You can strip yourself, now."

"Sorry?"

"Strip yourself."

"I'm a bit locked down," Zoey said dryly, struggling against her confinements to emphasize the point.

Sabina's eyebrows raised, and the realization hit a second later.

"Ah … right."

Her inventory. Though she was growing accustomed to the strange set of powers afforded to her, they certainly hadn't become second nature.

She could just … strip herself. Whenever. So weird.

Focusing on her clothes, she sucked the various fabrics into that bizarre liminal space. In a moment, she was naked. Her cock, a second ago separated by fabrics, now pressed into Sabina's warm ass directly. She was wearing lacy underwear, but it didn't cover much. Her ass was hanging out, to Zoey's cock's satisfaction. She closed her eyes and shivered at the direct contact.

"Third question," Sabina said, calmly straddling Zoey, wiggling her hips side to side, teasing her. Zoey's instincts cried out to reach forward and grab the woman on top of her, press her close, but the straps on her wrists, ankles, stomach, and neck quickly reminded her of the situation. Locked down. Helpless to Sabina's desires. "What is the purpose of a retort?"

"To sound clever?"

Sabina looked unimpressed at Zoey's joke. To be fair, Zoey wasn't operating at full capacity, seeing how her teacher's ass was pressed into her cock.

"It's, um, an alchemical tool," Zoey said. "You heat something in it, and volatile components vaporize and rise up through the neck. The vapor condenses back into a liquid. It creates reagents from other reagents."

"Indeed," Sabina said. "I'm wondering if I made this too easy."

"I have a feeling I'm going to run out of steam pretty quick," Zoey admitted. "I've worked through the beginner sections, but once you get to the more specific stuff, I'll start floundering."

"That was my intent," Sabina said. She leaned into Zoey, pressing her chest into Zoey's, and whispered into her ear, "Otherwise, what's there to look forward to?"

"I'd always look forward to this," Zoey breathed, eyes closed. "Doesn't matter how many times we do it."

Zoey opened her eyes to see Sabina studying her.

"I'm not accustomed to handling romantics," she said. "The flattery is … excessive."

Zoey blinked.

It was the first tell she'd found.

The way Sabina's eyes skirted away.

Was that the key? Sabina was used to extracting pleasure, but wasn't used to being complimented? Earnestly and whole-heartedly? To draw a hilarious comparison, she was like Rosalie, but in a different way. Maybe that was why Zoey had taken to her so quickly.

Though, with Sabina, Zoey knew to tuck that information away for later. Blunt force wouldn't work with this woman. She'd have to be much craftier employing that devastating piece of knowledge.

Reaching behind her, Sabina unstrapped her bra, then tossed it casually aside. Zoey drank in the sight of stiff, hard nipples, wishing desperately she could reach out and play with them. Unfortunately, she remained locked down. However exciting the lack of movement was, it came with downsides.

Until Sabina leaned forward, at least, and her tits were in Zoey's face.

She took the hard nub happily, latching to Sabina's breasts and swirling her tongue around. A soft nibble had Sabina inhaling sharply. She grabbed Zoey's head and pushed her forward, burying soft pillows into her face. Sabina had almost as much up top as Delta, and that was a hard measuring stick to compare to.

"Fourth question," Sabina said, the noises barely registering. Zoey protested, murmuring into Sabina's tits, continuing to play with the older woman. How was she supposed to answer like this?

Not that she was complaining.

"Fourth question," she scolded, pressing Zoey's face in tighter. "What is the proper way to prepare a kiffah root as a catalyzer for a clarity enhancing potion?"

With Sabina sitting on her cock, and her nipple in her mouth, it would be a vast understatement to say she was distracted. How in the world was she supposed to focus on answering alchemy questions?

"Remember, dear pupil," Sabina murmured into her ear. "Every answer means greater rewards."

Ah. Right. That was a good motivator.

Zoey struggled through the haze of lust. Sabina pointedly didn't remove her tits from her face, though, and Zoey wouldn't have wanted her to.

Kiffah root. She'd heard the reagent name before. Sabina was going easy on her—though advancing in difficulty, they'd yet to reach territory where Zoey was clueless.

Scraping her brain, she barely managed to trudge up memories from her time spent poring over her assigned textbook. It might have happened faster if she wasn't toying with her teacher's nipples, swirling a tongue around and nibbling, but slow or fast, she did manage.

She gave her response.

Sabina considered Zoey's answer, then nodded. "It's fundamentally correct, though perhaps summarized more than I'd prefer. No matter."

Leaning away, Sabina slid off Zoey's body. She would've pouted, but she knew the disentanglement meant more, and better, would be coming.

"And my reward?" Zoey asked.

Smiling, Sabina walked to her table, plucking out two glass vials with cork stoppers. Zoey's eyebrows raised. Some chemical enhancements to the situation? She hadn't a clue what they were, but considering their environment—the room and table she was strapped to—she had a suspicion she was in for some fun.

Popping open the vial, Sabina poured the liquid into her hand. Zoey's heart jumped at the implication. That she would be working in the material by hand. Her cock throbbed in excitement.

"Just remember to focus," Sabina said, reaching toward Zoey's cock. "We're not even halfway through."

Chapter 92

Chapter Text

Zoey's teacher worked a slippery lubricant into her cock, long, slim digits caressing a needy member that had been agonizing for this moment. A drawn-out moan escaped her. Though Sabina had taken care of her once before, it had been with a toy. This was much more intimate. Her hand, directly on Zoey's cock, stroking up and down.

And still with that perfectly poised, unruffled expression.

Then the substance's effect took hold.

"Oh," Zoey said, inhaling. "That's—"

She had thought the heat throbbing her cock had been her natural arousal, but, she discovered quickly, that was only half right. While scalding, the sensations accompanying her teacher's hand as she worked the slippery liquid up and down fourteen inches of girl dick was definitely not natural.

Some kind of heating agent?

"—that's nice," Zoey finished with a moan. The heat between her legs grew and grew, almost to an uncomfortable degree. Combined with her teacher's stroking grip, the heat felt … nice? Not painful, even if it was?

Not entirely painful. It kept growing. Her cock felt like it was on fire. But in a good way?

She groaned, hips wiggling side to side, the sensations impossible to sit through. Was it increasing her sensitivity? Had Sabina appropriated some of her lewd ingredients for her own experiments?

"Question five," her cruel captor said. "Detail the three most common indicators an active brew is destabilizing. Likewise, name three less common indicators."

Before Zoey could start gathering her thoughts, Sabina was pouring the second of the two liquids. Swallowing, Zoey pushed that out of her mind, as well as the burning pleasure caressing her painfully erect dick. The question. Each answer meant she got more from Sabina. She had to focus.

"Discoloring," Zoey said, "which is usually caused by irregular reagent distribution. Unequal bubbling, which is clearly the fault of … uneven temperature …"

Oh, god. She found out what the second substance did. Where the first had stroked her cock with an intense heat, the second was doing the opposite. Each pass of her teacher's hand, working the liquid around, had Zoey's cock turning colder and colder. Combined with what had to be a sensitivity-enhancing effect, Zoey's words trailed off, replaced by a moan. She wouldn't have thought freezing her cock with a magical liquid would feel good, but it did—excruciatingly, painfully so. Then again, maybe it was Sabina's dexterous movements causing the euphoria wracking her lower half, making her hips jerk up and down against her restraints.

"Two of three," Sabina prompted. "Keep going."

Keep going. Like this. What a joke.

Somehow, she focused. Even as her tutor played with her cock, working in alternating bouts of hot-and-cold, seizing her dick with an assault of intense sensations, she shakily struggled out an answer. Sabina seemed impressed, though certainly not at the content of her answer, but that she'd managed to respond at all.

Pleased, Sabina stood, finally giving Zoey a reprieve. Zoey sagged into the metal chair-table, panting in exhaustion. Her cock throbbed, Sabina's most recent attack having been the burning-hot liquid. Precum leaked from her tip, and her entire length was a shade redder than normal, twitching from agitation.

"I'm going too easy on you," Sabina said. "Let's take it further."

Too easy? It'd taken everything Zoey had to make it through the last question. Still, horrified as she was to see what the next stage of her torture was, she didn't protest. For all that the burning and freezing substances hurt, she was enjoying them equally.

Sabina loosened Zoey's straps, adjusted the reclining metal chair so it was laying flat, then resecured Zoey. She tightened the ones around her neck, ankles, thighs, and arms, but removed the strap keeping her stomach to the table. Then she walked off to grab something.

Zoey stared up at the ceiling, where Sabina's mirror displayed her laid out on the metal table. It was a lewd sight, seeing herself in such a compromised, locked-down position. Her face was bright red, and she looked dizzy even to herself.

Returning, Sabina crawled up onto the table with her, a device in hand. Zoey couldn't crane up to get a great view with her neck strapped to the table, but she could still look down and mostly make things out. Except, not exactly. Sabina had placed the item down and was fiddling with it between Zoey's legs.

"What is it?"

Sabina lifted the object, presenting it for her. A … dildo? With a box at the end?

Flipping a switch, the device hummed to life, then started thrusting slowly back and forth.

Ah.

A mechanized dildo. Wonderful. Zoey's lips parted, and, in anticipation, her panting grew louder. Her other part hadn't gotten much action, recently—it was unsurprising her fourteen-inch cock occupied her partner's attention, most frequently. But Sabina. Sabina wanted to play with both parts of her.

And, based on how she was working in the heating liquid into the slippery toy, she wasn't going to go easy.

Sticking the toy to the table, then flipping the switch to bring it back to life, Sabina said, "Question six."

The mechanized toy plunged into her. It slid in easily, spreading Zoey apart, lubricated by both her own excitement and the heating liquid. The dual assault of her burning cock, still being caressed by the magical substance Sabina had worked into it, and the sudden feeling of fullness as she was thrust into with a smooth, uncaring rhythm of Sabina's toy, Zoey's mind quickly came apart.

Then Sabina's hands joined in, and she really couldn't think. She was vaguely aware of Sabina asking the sixth question, but all she could focus on was her teacher's strong grip, milking up and down her girl cock with both hands. From two directions, Zoey was taken care of, magically amplified by the burning heat of Sabina's concoction.

She stared down her body, between her tits, unable to lean forward for a proper view. She basked in the sensations of her teacher's ministrations, and the sight of her long digits working up and down her cock. And Sabina's tits, which were still bared from earlier, and her nipples, wet from Zoey's mouth.

Vaguely, Zoey was aware of Sabina quirking an eyebrow. A sharp two-handed squeeze of her cock dragged Zoey back, dispelling the melting haze she'd fallen under. The toy continued to hum, thrusting inside Zoey, and Sabina's hands returned to their efforts when she saw she'd gotten Zoey's attention.

"We're past the halfway point," Sabina said. "These are the real reward questions. Focus. Your next prize is my mouth."

Her mouth? Zoey's mind blanked at the idea. Her teacher's lips wrapped around her cock? Getting to thrust inside that tight, slippery hole, with Sabina's indifferent gray eyes watching her from down between her legs?

It had already been a herculean task to focus on the quiz, and with Sabina's hands, and the mechanized dildo, pleasuring her, it was even more so. Still, in face of such an enticing reward, Zoey dragged her melting brain back into coherence. She genuinely didn't know how she did it. Sabina's throat wrapped around her dick was that encouraging of an idea, she guessed.

"If you were to combine luminorium," Sabina said, "with a base metal such as orias steel and subject the mixture to a high-temperature calcination process, what would be the resulting product? And what processes would be needed for purification?"

Ah. Sabina had been serious, then. The second half of the quiz, and the 'bigger rewards', had come with appropriately difficult questions.

Zoey wrangled her thoughts long enough to parse the question. Discovering the difficulty of it, though, the total blank that it brought to her mind, she submitted to the reality of the situation. Question five was as far as she would progress, today. Maybe with more studying, she'd go further, but she certainly couldn't answer this one.

For that matter, she wasn't lasting much longer in the carnal sense, much less the academic one.

"I don't know," Zoey said, slumping. "Fuck, I'm getting close. Can I finish on you? Please?" She strained against the straps locking her down, hips arching upward. Had that been why Sabina had removed the one around her stomach? So she could see Zoey's lower half struggle? The dildo-toy, strapped to the table, had to bend to match her raised hips, and it started pumping Zoey from a new angle. She collapsed back down, dizzy, feeling the first hints of orgasm started to wash through her. From two directions, not one. Both her cock and pussy. Two climaxes at once. And amplified by Sabina's heating substance. It was going to be mind-erasing—Zoey could tell that even from the first hints of the upcoming euphoria.

"Finish on me?" Sabina asked. "We're supposed to be collecting your load. Does my naughty student want to cum over her teacher's tits that badly? To waste all this hard work?"

"Please," Zoey gasped. "Please. Let me. I want to cover you."

Sabina hummed, considering the question. Finally, she said, "I really am too accommodating. Very well. Go ahead. Cum for me."

Looking down the length of her body, she saw Sabina point her cock toward her chest, then pick up speed, stroking Zoey's cock with a renewed vigor.

The permission, of course, threw her over the edge. Sabina's tits. She got to cum over her teacher's tits. Her hips arched, and her pussy and cock seized in synchronized orgasm. Pleasure radiated through her, burning her nerves to a white-hot peak, and she came. Her hips jerked back and forth in rapid, spasming thrusts as the thrashed against her restraints, helping milk out her finish.

Thick white strings flew onto Sabina's chest—and with the violence of her movements, onto her face, too, into her hair, her stomach, everywhere, Zoey's panicked movements making her cock impossible to control. Zoey whined as her entire body was reduced to a hot sludge, her teacher diligently milking her cock up top, and her toy thrusting in and out, bumping into her deepest reaches down below.

She watched, in something close to a fugue, as she coated Sabina with cum. Sabina allowed it to happen with that same long-suffering patience, completely unaffected by the strings of Zoey's cum quickly coating more and more of her. That, of course, was one of the reasons Zoey's orgasm took so long to work out.

God, she couldn't wait until she got the chance to see how much it took to make Sabina's composure break. Fourteen inches ought to do the trick. Maybe some alchemical help, like Sabina had employed against her, today.

Finally, Zoey collapsed into the metal table, head swimming.

A long several moments later, after Sabina had let her come to her senses, Sabina said, "Well, then. Question seven."

Zoey couldn't help it—she started laughing.

Chapter 93

Chapter Text

Frowning, Sol studied the strange container. Waist high and four feet wide, the wooden chest radiated more essence than nearly anything she'd encountered thus far. She had suspicions what the box was. Though she'd been released late by Mother to explore this realm, this wasn't the first shard Sol had ventured into. The third, to be specific.

A loot chest. That was what the locals called them. The terminology took a few moments to place, since sorting through alien lexicons and memories was no easy task, but the word did, eventually, come.

But the energy was so much stronger than it should be. And … of a different flavor. Sol had learned quickly that this shard was aberrant in some way, though she couldn't place how, yet, or why. To be fair, she'd been here a total of twenty minutes, if that. She was a studious worker, but even she couldn't crack the mystery that fast.

Pursing her lips—why did these alien reactions come so naturally?—she reached down and unclasped the two securing switches, then flipped them open. The chest cracked, and she tugged the container open.

A black portal greeted her. The expected sight. But again … so much more potent of an energy radiated from it than the other shards she'd ventured. And that smell. Husky. Intense. Almost … carnal, in a way? It made her head spin just taking it in. And she hadn't even tasted it yet.

Yes, something odd was going on with this shard.

Sol paused, looking up and to the left, idly, as she strained her senses. The simulacrum—that slime girl—wasn't nearby. She was safe to continue. She just had to make sure she didn't become too distracted. Though sneaking up on her should be next to impossible, and Sol could simply rejoin the Passage, even if caught, Mother's directive was to be subtle.

Satisfied she had a moment to herself, she bent over and reached in. It took a few moments of grasping around in the cold liminal space before her fingers wrapped around an object. Soft. Flexible. Fabric?

She pulled the item out.

Immediately, she was hit by the smell. Not the human kind—a different type of perception her appropriated mind's vocabulary couldn't fully explain. It reeked of that same energy the chest had, but condensed. That same intense, heady smell. Magic of a kind unlike the other shards she'd explored. Almost as if … influenced by another Prime? Most of this world smelled and tasted of—at a guess—some sort of god of order. Maybe. It was hard to tell. This, though. An equally potent power pervaded it, but definitely not of order. Or a mix of two?

Was it proof? That multiple gods watched over this realm?

Well, no. Beyond the realm's clear abandonment, just because it smelled different didn't mean it originated from a separate god. Still. It was perplexing. Unlike the previous shards, and, she suspected, unlike most shards.

She inspected it in a more mundane manner. It was, indeed, fabric. Clothing of some kind. She narrowed her eyes, stretching the flimsy, lacy piece of clothing.

Panties?

The word finally came.

Er. An undergarment? Really? Sol paused as she rifled through her memories, but only became more confused. How odd. Why was this being produced by the shard? She'd thought these brutal labyrinths focused on combat-related items.

As with most of the items given through a loot chest, it was imbued with powerful workings. Some sort of magical effect, though Sol couldn't begin to decipher it. Or them. Maybe there were a few.

Keep them to study, or a quick snack?

She briefly tried to convince herself to keep them around, but failed. As an item separate from the rest of the shard, the panties were a source of food that wouldn't accelerate the pocket dimension's decay, as with Sol's snacking on more direct mechanisms.

Plus, she was curious what the carnal energy tasted like.

Eating the physical object itself wasn't necessary, but she did so anyways. The real energy came from the magic she broke down, then digested. But simpler to consume it in its entirety.

And …

Oh. Oh, wow.

What was that feeling? She blinked as the energy coursed through her, but so unlike anything else she'd feasted on. Or, at least, more intense—she'd felt hints, earlier, of this sensation. And so satiating. So much more filling than anything else she'd eaten.

She rubbed her knees together, a heat growing between her legs that thrilled in satisfaction. Her thoughts grew cloudy, head starting to spin. Her face burned.

What was happening?

What was that energy that she'd eaten, so comparatively sparse in the rest of the shard?

Moreover, what were these sensations?

… lust?

A hand quested out, sneaking down her clothing, burying into her panties. She found wetness, there, and the pressure of her fingers rubbing against lower lips thrilled through her, making her heart slam in her chest.

Lust. She knew what lust was, of course, being a primitive emotion found in nearly all higher-order creatures, but in her? Her people in general? The forms they took influenced them, but only to a minor extent. Most emotions were muted things. Hunger, the only that truly stood out.

But this. This was so intense. Bad intense? Good intense?

She plunged two fingers into herself, hand operating of its own accord—guided by a pulsing hot need somewhere below her stomach. She cried out, the sensation of being filled, even by two slim fingers, making her thoughts go white.

Good intense.

She fell, knees impacting hard stone, but the pain didn't register. She worked two fingers in and out of herself, bulging her panties outward as her hand delved desperately. Her entire body shook as she pleasured herself.

The artifact she'd eaten. Clearly, consuming its essence had done this to her. Even through the shaking waves of hot ecstasy that pulsed through her, Sol's rational brain could deduce this. So. Carnal energy indeed—it wasn't just the smell. A god of lust? Or some variation? But she hadn't seen any real hints of that through this shard. Had she?

Her thoughts were too fuzzy. She couldn't sort this out, not right now. She bent over, pressing her forehead into the stone floor, two fingers still exploring herself rapidly. Clumsy, unexperienced motions, but intense enough to have her shaking.

Masturbating. She found the word. Even lost to pleasure, Sol's brain turned the idea over, fascinated. She was fucking herself. With her fingers. That was how the locals would put it. Her people weren't, fundamentally, sexual creatures, and so Sol had little experience with this. Much less pleasure so intense.

Groaning, the amplifying heat climbed, reaching a scorching peak that shocked Sol. She rolled over, pressing her back into the stone floor. She thrust her hips upward, straining her ass off the ground, and continued to rub, thrust, and curl with her fingers. She didn't know what she was doing, but any motion, clumsy or not, was helping to work her higher and higher. She wanted more. Needed it.

She squeezed her breasts, noting how her nipples had grown painfully erect from arousal, then cried out, closing her eyes. Her hips jerked up and down in little twitches, her body one taut muscle, as euphoria washed across her. Heat flooded her veins in a way she'd never experienced. The magma wiped away everything, including Sol's always-churning curious mind. She basked in ecstasy, uncaring of the world around her, falling apart from the pleasure her fingers brought her.

"Ha!"

The noise, so unexpected, pierced the haze. Eyes shooting open—lower half still twitching as she pleasured herself—Sol's head snapped to the left, where she saw an invader standing the doorway, having snuck up on her.

A green slime girl, pointing at her, other hand on her hip, seeming supremely proud of herself.

"I found you! I knew there was someone here."

Sol melded with the Passage, vanishing from the creature's sight. The horror of being caught—failing in Mother's primary, and near-singular requirement—washed away, in part, the arousal clouding her thoughts. Her body still twitched with aftershocks, but she pulled her hand, fingers wet from her excitement, out of herself, and went very, very still.

Submerged so deeply in the Passage—almost to the point it began sucking her away, back home—she could barely make out her surroundings. The slime girl's surprised words were dulled, distorted, like sounds heard underwater.

"What? Where'd you go?"

Home tugged at her soul, seeking to draw her from this world back to that dark, formless void her people had built their empire in. She took a metaphorical step forward, pulling away, melding closer to the other dimension. In her panic, she had dove too intensely—she steadied herself and adjusted her submersion to a reasonable amount. Enough to be hidden, but not be drawn away by the current.

The stone walls, wooden chest, and slime girl came better into focus. Her words were more clear when she spoke next. Sol had missed part of what she'd been saying during the struggle to stabilize.

"—could join me? It's even more fun in pairs?"

Hm? She tried to patch together the first half of the sentence, but failed.

The slime girl waited, then at a lack of response from Sol, pouted, shoulders slouching. She looked around the room one more time, realizing the futility of confronting Sol—probably not knowing whether she was even there, anymore—then left, defeated. As Sol had noted, even if she was caught by this creature, disappearing was simple.

She couldn't move while submerged into the Passage, even only a few steps in, but the slime girl didn't know that. She had no clue she'd had a captive audience. Fortunate for Sol. The first time, when the girl had pled with her and asked what Sol was doing to her domain, she'd felt a squirming discomfort in her stomach. Shame. Absurd as it was. She didn't want more of that.

Now alone in the room, Sol looked down to see her legs were shaking. Even having … climaxed? … arousal pulsed through her. The effects of eating that strange energy persisted.

And so satiating. So much more than it should have been. What did it mean?

There were still so many things to discover about this place. Sol was convinced, by this point, that she'd wandered into a highly aberrant shard. And the slime girl? Maybe Sol should study her. For that matter, the rest of the shard. The vines, especially, she was starting to think she'd overlooked. They'd shied form her previously, but Sol had a suspicion what their purpose was, now.

And, of course, intended to confirm or deny it. What use was an untested hypothesis?

Chapter 94

Chapter Text

"Inflame or mute internal statuses," Maddy said thoughtfully. "I wonder how broad that is."

Like Zoey had with Sabina, she'd revealed her newest skill with the tutor best suited to help her with it. Beyond the ability needing to be divulged, so that she could learn to use it, Zoey didn't see a point to the stringent secrecy that was the standard for this world. Maybe if she trusted Maddy less, but this bubbly, friendly girl? Even if Zoey's skill had been a lot more specific, and worth keeping the details hidden, she would've shared it.

"I'd figure anything in that domain," Zoey said. "Any emotion, either dulled or amplified. But my class's related ones, probably most effective."

Arousal, she politely didn't specify. Maddy glanced at her and blushed, picking up the implication, but brushing past it. While she seemed to be growing slightly more at-ease with inappropriate topics, she still turned pink at mentions of Zoey's class.

"Emotions are a safe bet," Maddy said. "How about sensations? Is 'pain' an internal status? Speaking from a combat utility perspective, flaring up a monster's wounds could be debilitating."

"True," Zoey said. "I'd test it on myself, but we'd have to create a spell for each application, right?"

"Sure, but it shouldn't be that hard. Not simple ones. We can take existing spell designs and tweak them."

"For you, it wouldn't be hard," Zoey amusedly pointed out. "I don't have the slightest idea how to do that."

While she'd been making strides in the practical side of spellcasting, the theoretical side, she remained clueless about. Maddy had painted the process in broad strokes, but it was more or less the same as painting quantum physics, or some equally absurd topic, in broad strokes. Nuance fell to the wayside, and actually implementing the things Maddy so casually mentioned? Zoey obviously couldn't.

Maybe with a dedicated upbring by a powerful mage, like Maddy had received, Zoey would be able to manage something, but she obviously didn't have that. And even if she had that sort of background, even still, she might not be able to. Maddy was clearly a brilliant woman, for all she stumbled over her words and was sometimes distractible. A prodigy in her own right, in the same way as Rosalie or Delta.

"Well, I'll put something together for you, then," Maddy said. "It shouldn't take long, and we can bill it under 'tutoring'. Even if spell design would normally cost mountains."

It was said with a joking tone, but Zoey frowned. "I probably can't afford it now, but I might be able to, later. Keep track of it?"

"Oh, no, I don't care. It's no problem." Maddy blushed. "I'm already starting to feel bad for charging you for even this." She waved around to indicate 'lessons'.

"Why? It sounds like your time is valuable."

"Well, sure, but we're friends, now. Er … that is, if, you … you know, think so too."

"Of course I do," Zoey said. "But that doesn't mean you should be wasting hours of your day training me for free, every day. And this spell design stuff, now. Keep track of how much you'd charge someone else, and when I can, I'll pay you back. Please?"

"That's really not necessary."

"Please?" Zoey repeated. She really would feel better about things. Her time spent in this new world had felt like a drain on other people's generosity. Rosalie's, primarily, but Delta's and Sabina's too, and now Maddy.

"Okay," Maddy said hesitantly. "But I'll be giving you the friend discount, and you can't convince me out of that."

Zoey would've tried, but she could tell insisting further would be pointless.

"I can probably have a simple prototype drawn up pretty quick," Maddy said. "Go ahead and run through our drills, and I'll start sketching?"

"Sounds good to me."

Zoey went about her routine, practicing with the few ice spells she knew. To the side, Maddy sat on the bench, scribbling in her notebook while conferring with various textbooks. Zoey watched out of the corner of her eye, curious, but mostly kept focused on learning to wrangle her ice element. While this newest branch of magic would be useful, so was her original, especially in a more direct offensive sense. Though inflaming 'internal statuses' was sure to have plenty of uses, it couldn't kill a monster by itself. It was, from her assumptions, a support branch of magic.

Casting spells in a steady string, Zoey found her reserves dwindling in no time. While her class allowed more potent abilities because of her mana-replacement resource, Lust, she also ran out much quicker than a normal mage would. Doubly true because of how unpracticed she was. Better mages could make more efficient use of their skills, but Zoey was, while not a stark beginner anymore, still very much a novice.

A half-hour later, she plopped down, tired, next to Maddy, who spared a smile for her, then studiously returned to her notebook. Zoey leaned over with a "can I see?", which Maddy allowed, placing her notebook on her lap for Zoey to peek, but continuing to focus on her sketching.

A spell diagram was taking shape on the page. Zoey, obviously, couldn't read it, not in any meaningful capacity, but she appreciated the design for what it was: tight-packed, drawn with deft pencil strokes, and a clear competence behind the forming spell. Not many mages could do this easily, Zoey intuited. Invent new spells nearly from scratch, on a whim.

Zoey watched for a bit, staying quiet, not wanting to interrupt Maddy's efforts. She was clearly focused on the endeavor, having to flip between pages of textbooks—which featured similar designs, which Maddy was stealing from, and adapting to Zoey's purpose—and constantly erasing or making small adjustments.

"That ought to do it," Maddy said, satisfied. She closed the books to her side, then held out her notebook, admiring the final result. Or, the initial draft—Maddy seemed to have implied there'd be some experimentation involved. "Time to test it."

Zoey twitched in realization. "Ah … I should've gone and recharged while you were working. I'm all out."

Maddy paused. However many times they'd been through this, Zoey's reminders that Zoey needed to 'restock'—or rather, the reminder how—drew a blush from the blue-haired girl.

And, this time even more than usual, Maddy starting fidgeting. Zoey stood to head for the bathroom—unfortunately, the most private accommodations she could manage—but Maddy cleared her throat, then said:

"You can, um. Do it here, if you want."

Zoey turned, slowly, to look at her.

"I-I'm just saying," Maddy squeaked, glancing away. "All the … running back and forth, it's too much of a hassle. Wastes time. How about you just take care of it? This is a private room."

Zoey sorted through her reaction as quickly as she could. Maddy, more than Delta and even Rosalie had been, needed to be handled carefully when it came to the lewder aspects of her class. Zoey couldn't afford to be awkward; she needed to handle things smoothly, as to not scare Maddy away. To set her at ease.

And this was an invitation. Not of anything serious, but still an offer for Zoey to masturbate—well, not really masturbate, but kind of—in front of her. Which wasn't a chaste thing by any measure.

"If you don't mind," Zoey said carefully.

Maddy shrugged. She wasn't good at feigning nonchalance, and her fidgeting gave her away, if the bright blush hadn't already. "Only if you don't mind, either. Like I said, it's just a hassle, isn't it?"

"A bit," Zoey admitted. She sat back down on the bench attached to the training room's wall. "But your comfort matters a lot more, obviously."

"Well," Maddy tittered, "I'm glad to hear that, but it's not that big of a deal." Maddy chuckled, again, a bit forced. She was giving away pretty clearly that, to her, it was a big deal. She didn't go around offering just any girl to masturbate in front of her. "And I'm kind of curious, too," she admitted. "You clearly have a way to … recharge … but you mentioned it has to be with a bonded target. And you don't meet up with Rosalie or Delta, do you?"

Zoey hadn't ever explained the teleporting panties to Maddy. And for all her blushing, she did seem genuinely curious about the how from an academic sense.

Except, today's use of the panties was different from usual. It had been Delta's request, actually.

"I have an item," Zoey said. "That makes distance not so big of a deal. Want to see?"

"Sure?" Maddy's wide-eyes suggested she had an idea of what she was in for, if not the details.

Zoey briefly wondered whether she should show the item off in its current state. She hadn't received permission to go parading it around. But it was Delta, and Zoey was close to certain she wouldn't mind. Would hit Zoey over the head for not taking the opportunity, even.

Zoey withdrew the linking plate from her inventory. Not the portal panties. She wasn't the one wearing them, today.

She held the silver disc out for Maddy to see.

There, sitting in Zoey's palm, was Delta's pussy.

"It simplifies the logistics," Zoey laughed, scooting closer to Maddy, so their shoulders bumped together. "Delta insisted. Usually I wear the other end, and when I get hard, it signals they need to take care of me."

Maddy gaped at the silver plate, where Delta's cute pussy lips protruded. Her head had turned away, as if instinctively trying to look somewhere else—to be polite—but her eyes had stayed locked to Delta. "Delta? That's her?"

Zoey pressed two fingers between soft lips, rubbing them around. Maddy's eyes widened further, and she actually did look away, this time—then forced her gaze back, as if embarrassed that she'd done so.

"In the flesh," Zoey teased. "Can't you recognize her?"

By the way Maddy's face had gone from pink to deep red, Zoey could tell she was pushing it. Slow and steady would be important with Maddy.

She pulled the linking plate away, then scooted a few inches to give Maddy a second to cool off. Steam practically radiated from her, even just from shoulder contact and the lewd display of Delta's pussy.

Zoey said, "But you don't mind, then? You're sure? If I handle it here? It might get loud."

"I said it was fine, didn't I?" Maddy's volume—louder than she'd intended—made herself jump. She really was on edge. In a good way? The bright-red blushing and stammering wasn't indicating she wanted to leave, just that was was mortified. She yanked her notebook up to her face, blocking her face. "I'll just keep working. Don't mind me."

Well, she'd been given permission. And for all Maddy's lack of composure, Zoey would have to be blind not to see that she wanted Zoey to make a spectacle of this.

A spectacle. Zoey intended to provide one. A good starting point for easing Maddy into the debacle of upcoming shards, should that day hopefully come.

Chapter 95

Chapter Text

Zoey set Delta's pussy to the side, between her and Maddy, then popped open her pants button. Her blood thrummed with excitement. Though she doubted much would be happening between her and Maddy, today, getting to expose herself—and masturbate, using Delta's pussy—in front of the blushing girl was, obviously, something that had Zoey's stomach squirming. She hadn't ever been an exhibitionist, but, as was becoming a recurring trend, it seemed a new kink might be adding to a rapidly expanding list.

Next, her boxers came down. Fourteen inches of erect girl dick stood proudly in the air, a bead of pre-cum dribbling at the tip, declaring Zoey's growing excitement.

To her side, Maddy sucked in a breath of air. Despite having hidden behind her notebook, and claiming she'd mind her own business, she'd apparently taken a sneak peek—and gotten more than she'd been prepared for. Zoey glanced over at her, smirking, but Maddy fervently pretended she'd made no such noise.

"I w-wasn't looking! Sorry!" She buried her nose even closer to her notebook.

"I don't mind if you do," Zoey said. "Like you said, it's not that big of a deal. This's just how my class works. Gotta get used to it, right?"

Despite her attempts to play the event down, Zoey's slamming heart belied the truth of the situation. Just because she'd been getting a lot of action recently didn't make this encounter any less exciting. While not as degenerate as some things she'd gotten up to, getting to expose herself to Maddy still had Zoey's body on fire. She just pretend it didn't, for Maddy's sake.

"Right," Maddy said, lowering her notebook a few inches down, revealing gray eyes and the tops of her burning red cheeks. She stole a look at Zoey's cock, before flushing even deeper and returning the notebook. "How does it even fit?"

"A convenient skill." Zoey picked up Delta's pussy, then rubbed her tip against soft lips, a quiet gasp escaping her. Delta had, in the imminent arrival of this encounter—feeling herself exposed, then Zoey's fingers teasing her—started to show her own excitement. Zoey worked Delta's natural lubricant around her cock's head, then down her shaft, spreading Delta's lips apart as she rubbed around. Having a pussy in convenient, hand-held form was really something. "But even with a skill, it can be a bit much."

"A bit much," Maddy breathed. "I get the feeling you're understating things." The notebook finally lowered back onto her lap, though Maddy pointedly focused on developing the spell diagram, trying to ignore Zoey. She stole quick glances, flickers, as if sneaking looks at the sun.

"Maybe a bit. Nobody really complains, though. It's a challenge in a good way, I've heard."

Maddy blushed, then flipped to a new page in her notebook. "I'll start making some other variations for your inflame skill. Take as long as you need."

Zoey intended to. Usually with these sessions, the goal was to finish as quick as possible, thus recharging her Lust resource. With this new development? She'd take her time. Be loud. Be enthusiastic. This was, by far, the best opportunity for working Maddy up to Zoey's class that she'd gotten. Zoey desperately wanted her on the team, and while Zoey had a feeling the blue-haired girl wouldn't be jumping into bed with her anytime soon, Maddy needed to be somewhat at ease with everything, if she wanted to join the team.

So. Breaking down her defenses. Giving her a show. Maybe if she worked Maddy up enough, even, this would progress from something more than a bout of exhibitionism and voyeurism. Maybe Maddy would involve herself more directly. Though, Zoey doubted that. At absolute most, a handjob, and even that, she didn't think would be happening. Maddy didn't seem the kind of girl to be jumping into those sorts of situations. But maybe something?

Having used Delta's pussy to lubricate herself, Zoey teased her cockhead between Delta's lower lips. She pushed, spreading Delta apart, burying her tip just a half-inch in. She could imagine Delta groaning and cursing at the slow pace she was taking, wanting Zoey to thrust inside already. The wetness Zoey had available to lubricate herself made it pretty clear. Unfortunately for her, that wasn't the plan today. She gripped her shaft with one hand, steadying it, then continued to rub her tip half-in inside of Delta, not spreading her all the way open, but definitely spreading her.

A noise escaped the back of her throat, one which wasn't intentionally part of the show. Maddy jumped at it, but, face burning red, pointedly kept her attention on her notebook.

Zoey finally entered Delta, sliding her pussy down her cock. She groaned, loudly, and again, it was only half intentional. She wanted to put on a show, but she didn't have to play things up. Delta really did feel that good.

"Fuck, she's so tight," Zoey murmured. A long, drawn-out breath left her as she slid Delta further and further down her shaft. She felt her cock bump into Delta's deepest reaches half-way down, but kept pushing. Her skill allowed the intrusion. She buried her cock into Delta until the linking plate had pressed between her legs, and all fourteen inches of her dick was squeezed by tight, wet walls.

An image flashed into her mind, Delta having fallen to her knees, hands pressed into her panties, stuffed suddenly with such an enormous girldick. She'd learned last night that for all Delta's experience, Zoey's member wasn't something that could 'just be handled'. She'd been as easy to take apart as anyone else.

Or, maybe not as easy, but experience didn't mean Delta was difficult to turn into a blushing, twitching mess.

"Fuck," Zoey repeated. She pulled Delta up, then slapped back down, stuffing her with cock in a smooth motion. Zoey's back arched in pleasure. "I'm glad I don't have to stay quiet. She feels so good."

Maddy's pencil shook as she sketched, her typically steady hand losing its composure, as the rest of her. The girl's crumbling defenses spurred Zoey on. She scooted closer, pressing a naked leg into Maddy's, continuing to use Delta's pussy to pleasure herself even while she cozied up to the other girl.

"What's this newest one you're working on?" Zoey asked, keeping her voice casual—though there was a breathlessness to it, even trying to 'play things down'.

"Um," Maddy said. "Just a v-variation. Ought to have a few things to experiment with, once you're ready."

"Yeah. Good idea." Zoey pumped away, Delta's pussy caressing her cock in long strokes. "Just tell me if you change your mind with all this, okay? Or if you don't want me so close, or anything. Like I said, your comfort matters most." Zoey wanted to push boundaries, to ease Maddy into this, but it was also important to emphasize Maddy was in control, here.

"Not a problem," Maddy said. "We're both adults. I said it was fine. And it is. B-Besides, it's not like I'm a total virgin, okay?"

"You aren't?" She'd kind of figured she was.

Maddy shot a glare her way. A glare from the bubbly girl was effectively a pout, and it was awfully cute. The glance also brought Zoey's masturbation to the forefront of Maddy's vision, and her gaze instantly skirted back to her notebook.

"No. Kind of," Maddy said. "Um. Once."

"With who? A girl?"

Maddy nodded.

Zoey had figured. Maddy seemed to prefer girls—probably one of the reasons Delta had picked her as potential teammate. "Would this bother you, then?"

"Your, um?"

"Yeah."

It was a consistent worry of Zoey's. Cocks weren't everyone's thing, much less … well, fourteen inches of one.

Maddy, though, continuing, the trend, didn't seem to mind. She blushed. "No. It's not—well, it wouldn't, I mean—you know."

"Okay," Zoey said. "Just checking."

Zoey leaned back, the long up-and-down strokes of Delta's pussy starting to rouse that growing heat in her core. She wondered how Delta was faring. While having a pocket-pussy, literally, was nice, the best part of sex was the intimacy, and not getting to hear Delta moaning as she stuffed her full was a downside—though plenty of upsides were present in this event, too.

"Do you, um, need help?" Maddy asked suddenly.

Zoey froze.

"I mean with an illusion, or something!" Maddy's wide eyes indicated she genuinely hadn't picked up on what her offer would've sounded like. "I can, you know, make something. For you. To speed it up. If you want. Visual stimuli." She laughed nervously, then hunched forward and scribbled in her notebook. This newest spell diagram was much sloppier than the first.

"Make something?" Zoey asked.

"A visual aid. If you want." She shrugged nonchalantly. Or, in an attempt to be nonchalant. The girl was a mess. One of the reasons Zoey'd been enjoying this so much.

"Like what?"

"Whatever you want. Um. Within reason?" Maddy hunched even further into her notebook. "The guild receptionist is really pretty, don't you think?"

"The brown-haired girl?"

"Lucy. Yeah."

A grin slid across Zoey's face. So, there was a pervert hiding underneath those lighting-quick blushes and that exuberant, innocent personality. "You're gonna put on a show with a stranger, for me?"

"Well, I don't—it's just that—"

"Please," Zoey said. "It'd help."

Maddy's breath started to come faster, and she unslouched. Swallowing, she held her hand out, stroking burning lines of magic into the air with her fingers in deft, practiced motions.

An illusion shimmered to life.

The brown-haired receptionist, Lucy, stood there, dressed in only her underwear. Zoey's heart rate picked up, and, reinvigorated, she started stroking herself faster using Delta's pussy.

The illusion was surprisingly tame, just a woman in moderately revealing underwear, considering what Maddy could do, her imagination being the limit. Still, it was a woman stripped down to her underwear, alluring curves on display. Zoey would never be immune to that, however degenerate her adventures got.

Plus, Delta's very real pussy stroking her. She groaned as her hand picked up pace, and Lucy put on a show for Zoey, guided by Maddy. Lucy's hands ran across her hips and thighs, tracing her figure, and she squeezed her tits together.

"You have practice with this, then?" Zoey asked, her mind starting to grow fuzzy with pleasure. Delta's pussy was seriously amazing, and this was only the second time she'd ever gotten to use it. Well. Second by session. She and Rosalie had made good use of their foxgirl teammate last night, definitely more than just 'once'. "This doesn't look like a first try."

Maddy blushed. "I mean … wouldn't you?"

"Fair," Zoey laughed. "Definitely would." She moaned, squirming on the bench. "F-Fuck. I'm getting close. More?"

Maddy obliged the request, her face turning deeper and deeper shades of red. Lucy stripped off her bra and panties, then took a few steps forward, providing an even more detailed show for Zoey. The clarity of the image was shocking. Perfectly real to life. Expected from a trained illusionist.

"Delta said you don't wear clothes," Zoey said, groaning as pleasure coursed through her. "That you wear an illusion around. Is that true?"

Maddy stared, wide-eyed, at Zoey. "W-What? How did she—? I mean, no! What?"

Zoey laughed at how easy it had been. Maddy was an abysmal liar. The idea thrilled through Zoey. She doubted it was something Maddy did often, but she had stripped herself naked then wandered out into public, before.

"So you're an exhibitionist?" Zoey asked, even if the question was unnecessary, since she could read the truth in Maddy's blushing reaction. She stroked faster, up and down, Delta's pussy caressing out a building orgasm. Close. She was close to exploding.

Maddy was watching her, now. She'd stopped studying her notebook. Though, in wide-eyed fake outrage. "Of course not! I'm not s-some kind of pervert. Honestly, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Fuck," Zoey said. "I'm close." She wanted to tease Maddy more about her recent discovery, but her cock was starting to seize, to reach a burning heat that was impossible to resist. "I'm going to cum."

She said it out loud, of course, for Maddy's benefit.

"Delta's pussy is so tight. I can't stop." She gripped the linking plate with two hands, jerking desperately. "I'm cumming. Fuck."

She slapped Delta's pussy down with one last desperate motion, then bent forward, toes curling as euphoria washed through her. She moaned, body shaking, as her cock seized, then spilled thick, sticky cream into Delta's pussy.

She kept eye contact with Maddy through the whole twitching process, for each long string of girlcum she spilled into Delta's pussy. Maddy, likewise, was entranced, face burning red, drawing hand frozen, but not looking away.

"Fuck. So good. Delta's pussy is so good." She spewed other lewd obscenities, mind fuzzy with the pleasure washing across her. Maddy watched diligently, which spurred things along.

Finally, the event wrapped up. Her orgasm sagged away, leaving Zoey exhausted. Maddy had dispelled her illusion at some point. Panting, Zoey looked down at her sticky lap, where her enormous load had, of course, not been able to be contained in just Delta's pussy.

"I, um, have a towel," Zoey said, exhausted. "Don't worry."

"Right."

Then, playing into the absurdity of the situation, she asked, faux-casually, pulling Delta's pussy off her cock, leaving a cream-covered fourteen inches standing proudly, "So. How's the new spell coming along? Should be topped off to test them, now."

Maddy, briefly, stared at Zoey, mouth opened. Then she twitched into motion, hurrying to respond. "Um. Pretty good?"

Chapter 96

Chapter Text

With Zoey's arousal having washed away, she would admit the aftermath was the the slightest bit awkward. Fortunately, Maddy also seemed intent on brushing past the horribly degenerate things the two of them had engaged in. Not that, literally speaking, they'd done much degenerate, not compared to Zoey's new standards. Masturbating in front of another girl? Even with another girl's teleported pussy, it wasn't that strange, not compared to a twenty-inch cock bulging her girlfriend's stomach out, or Rosalie and Zoey sharing a cock to fuck Delta for the first time. But it still felt that way.

Fortunately, they had meaningful distractions to concern themselves with. Maddy's new spells. Or, spell. The second one she'd sketched during Zoey's 'recharging' hadn't come out correctly. Apparently, Maddy had been too distracted to formulate complex spell designs. Understandable.

But, her first spell. The one she'd made before the event. That was ready to go.

"It's the obvious one," Maddy said. "Arousal. Which, um, probably not something you want to deal with, now. Having just …" she coughed. "But it's the most fitting to your class, and a novel enough application I gravitated to it. A spell that arouses? A tricky spell to invent, even piece-meal. It might not work. I've never heard of such a thing. But I organized the glyphs in such a way that it should." She frowned. "It can sometimes be an art more than a science, spell design. I hope I got it right."

"Should I use it on myself?" Zoey asked, studying the diagram, which Maddy had handed to her.

"Well, who else, silly?" Maddy asked.

Maddy paused.

"Oh! Um! I mean—!"

"Myself is fine," Zoey rushed to assure her. Like usual, Maddy's innocence—which was only half innocence, she'd discovered—was endlessly endearing. "I'll do my best. Getting something right the first try is going to be hard, though."

"Try as much as you need," Maddy said, cheeks pink. "I'll critique, like usual. That's why I'm here."

Zoey wasn't sure why she'd suggested she'd use an arousal spell on Maddy. Obviously casting such a strange spell on herself should have been her default instinct. Just, external influence seemed more natural. Or maybe it'd been her pervertedness guiding her. Which, she would admit, existed. After all her recent adventures, she had to concede she was far from a vanilla, blushing dilettante. Her preferences were becoming more refined as the days passed.

Days. Only days? God, what would she look like a few weeks from now, if she'd changed this much in less than a week? Or months, for that matter?

Then again, had she really changed? Or just been introduced to a lifestyle she'd easily accepted?

She focused. She had a spell to test.

Using the diagram Maddy had quickly thrown together, Zoey used her newest arcana specialty and attempted to manifest an arousal spell. The design of the spell defined most of the behavior, but some mental guidance was required, too. In this case, picking a target. She chose herself.

And was surprised to find the spell not fizzle. Though Zoey was improving, and learning to experiment with new spells rather than a single, she hadn't expected her first attempt to be a success. Especially because it'd been hastily assembled by Maddy. The blue-haired girl hadn't sounded confident she'd gotten it right.

A hot surge of arousal coursed through her, shocking in its speed and intensity. That, of course, meant Zoey's rather-noticeable equipment, thus having been sated, stirred to life, stiffening and making even her loose pants suddenly very tight.

Though Zoey half paid attention to that. After so many lewd adventures, both contrived and chosen, she'd grown accustomed to dealing with arousal. But produced through a spell? The forcefulness, and lack of stimuli to arouse her naturally, somehow made the effect more intense, not less.

A shaky breath escaped her lips as she fought down a sudden urge to pin down the wide-eyed, blushing girl in front of her. She wanted to do it so badly. To climb over Maddy and give her fourteen inches of stiff girl cock. To bump around in her deepest reaches, joining their lower halves desperately.

Through great effort, she chased the urge away. Or down. Definitely not away.

"It worked," Zoey said, voice shaky, glancing away from Maddy.

Maddy stared at Zoey. Zoey got the impression some of her previous thoughts had shown through, and that Maddy had read them plain as day. Zoey cleared her throat, still looking somewhere safer. Maddy's robes really were unreasonably tight. Was that intentional?

Obviously not. Equipment dropped from random shards. But fuck, it looked good on her.

"It worked," Maddy stuttered. "That's good! Um. It's pretty strong, I'm taking it? It is your third advancement rune, so, um. Makes sense."

Maddy's awkwardness only had Zoey's urge to pin her down spiking even higher. How was this girl so cute? Zoey knew a quick way to dispel that hesitancy. Once she gave the girl a proper taste of her cock, she wouldn't blush every time the topic was brought up.

Swallowing, and disoriented at how intense the arousal spell's influence was, Zoey said, "First try. I'm impressed. You said improvising spells is hard."

That, at least, started to drag them back. The spell's effect was dispersing, bit by bit. Not gone, but fading.

Maddy was pointedly not looking at the bulge in Zoey's pants. "It's not the easiest thing, but I've been training for it forever." The talk of spellcasting was, unsurprisingly, a topic genuinely effective at distracting Maddy. "I really didn't think it would work, though. Haven't ever heard of a spell that arouses someone, so I had to make some big assumptions."

"And the others?" Zoey found it hard to focus. Half because of the spells effect, half because she couldn't wait to test this out with Rosalie and Delta. What kinds of noises–and begging–could she draw out of Rosalie when combining this, some chemical enhancements, and growing Rosalie her own cock, as Sabina had recently invented? Could she gave her girlfriend climaxing without even touching her? That would be a fun event.

Focus, Zoey chided herself.

"Other applications?" Maddy asked. "Let's try out anger, then pain? I have a feeling those won't come as naturally to you, though."

Probably true. The arousal spell had been surprisingly easy to cast on the first try. It aligned to her class.

Further testing was best saved for later, though. Namely, when Maddy wasn't in the crossfire.

Magic lessons wrapped up, Zoey headed back to the guild. Up in her room, she discovered—unsurprisingly—Rosalie hadn't returned. She wouldn't for an hour or two, maybe more. Normally, Zoey would fill this time with studying. Especially with Sabina's new rewards, she found herself both intrinsically and extrinsically motivated.

But there'd been something she'd wanted to test. With how packed her schedule was, some exciting discoveries had needed to be put off. With a moment to herself, the opportunity to experiment had arrived.

[Potion of Expanded Consciousness] - Open the consumer 's mind to the dream world, allowing external influences to delve deep into one's psyche.

It wasn't the only potion Sabina had catalyzed that Zoey intended to play with over the following days—the aphrodisiacs and sensitivity enhancers were tragically underused—but she'd been slowly formulating plans for each. Maybe it was best, even, that they'd been left to the wayside. Zoey had a devious event planned for Rosalie's first time with her own cock.

For now, the dream potion.

Zoey didn't know what it would do, and, based on the description, maybe she was being reckless by not taking precautions. Then again, what precautions were there? And Sabina had warned her, but not seemed overly worried.

Still, Zoey didn't simply take a swig and crash on the bed. She made minor preparations. Namely, an alarm, as to hopefully only be out for a cat nap—and possibly cutting off any unpleasant experience, if it turned out to be such—then wrote a note for Rosalie, leaving it on the nightstand, should this end up sinking Zoey into some fugue.

That done, she popped open the dubious potion and downed the vial. It tasted like cinnamon. A more pleasant taste than many of the ones she'd drunk.

Almost immediately, she was hit with a wave of vertigo. She swayed on her feet, then staggered into the bed, only half controlling her collapse. She blinked rapidly, vision already going fuzzy, and fumbled the empty vial onto the nightstand next to the note.

Trepidation, of course, reared up at the sudden, intense disorientation, and how quickly her vision was fuzzing and turning black, but she'd expected it. She settled onto the bed, more of a controlled collapse, then cozied up against the headboard, propping herself with pillows.

Her eyes, impossibly heavy, finally sagged shut, and her head lolled to the side, unconsciousness claiming her.

Chapter 97

Chapter Text

Zoey's consciousness expanded, one awareness traded for another. She floated from high above, formless, with pinpricks of light bursting into existence beneath her. Tens of thousands of them, varying colors, linked by spindly, trailing ribbons connecting the points in a spiderweb of dizzying complexity.

It took a second to organize her thoughts. Having a moment ago been chemically knocked unconscious, she had to fight off a fogginess in her brain. It lifted slowly. She found herself floating, without a body, above the sea of lights and interconnecting ribbons.

She tried to make sense of it.

'Open the consumer's mind to the dream world' had been the potion's description. So this was that, then? The dream world? Were each of those colorful lights a dream? The mass floated too far away to make out in detail. Could she move, somehow?

It came naturally. Her formless body drifted, guided by her intent, descending into the ocean. While from above it had looked like the lights were all at the same elevation, as she approached, she saw that wasn't true. There was a depth, with some orbs higher and lower, though not by much. The sky, and the space above the mass, however, was empty.

The pinpricks expanded into orbs as she neared. Strangely, the ribbons stayed the same size, despite her descent, not growing with her shifting perspective as they should. It was a disorienting effect.

She did her best to ignore it, growing vaguely nauseous. With the nearest orb nearly on her, she focused on that, instead. The glassy, misty sphere grew until she could make out details.

A scene played out inside the orb's depths. Fascinated, Zoey finished closing the gap. The image was discernible, though not clear. It seemed to be a stress dream, the unfortunate subject—a middle-aged woman with short brown hair—having an animated, heated conversation with someone important to her.

She could almost hear what they were saying. Zoey pressed a little bit closer, and—

And bumped her head. Not that she had a head, being a formless, floating construct of thought, but that was what it felt like. She'd been rejected from inspecting the orb—the dream?—closer. Or perhaps from entering it.

She wondered why. The orb had a yellow tint to it. Did the colors mean something? Looking around, other lights—some near, some far—had different hues and of varying vibrancies.

Zoey watched the woman's dream for a few moments, running her fingers—her mind's fingers?—across the glassy-mist pane, questingly, testing for weaknesses or a way in. But Zoey was barred from this one. Surely not all? It would make this adventure rather anticlimactic.

Considering her class, Zoey had a suspicious how this would work. If there were a category of dreams she were allowed to slip into, what would it be?

Zoey turned away from the yellow-tinted orb. She floated upward, leaving the previous behind, and scanned the ocean in front of her.

Sex dreams. Obviously, those would be the ones Zoey could invade, or had some sort of affinity toward. How did she identify which those were?

Were the colors identification? Describing the type of dream? And maybe the saturation described the intensity?

What color would sex dreams be?

Pink, Zoey settled on, eyes falling onto the nearest. She descended back into the sea of pinpricks and lines, approaching the orb.

Her theory over color categorizations was proved in short order. Inside the vision—foggy, as the previous, but clear enough to see—a blonde woman was being thoroughly handled by three men. Zoey paused, despite having expected something of the sorts, then politely withdrew. Beyond not wanting to join in on that scenario, for obvious reasons, she'd rather find a dream that was more in the 'beginning' stages than the 'well into them'.

Plus, more even than the prospect of getting to play around in strangers' dreams, she found herself intrigued by the landscape in general. The dreamworld and how it worked. She wanted to explore more before diving in.

The previous orb had been deeply tinted, which would line up with her suspicion that intensity of the hue meant intensity of the dream. Deep pink, to represent the woman's erotic dream that had been well underway.

Ascending to get a better view, Zoey searched through the ocean of spheres, then, identifying a lighter pink one, pulled close.

Her second guess was right. Or at least not proved wrong, since two points of data couldn't guarantee anything. But this dream, a softer hue of pink, featured two men trapped in a closet together. Zoey got the impression it was a memory being relived. The dream hadn't actually taken the turn toward what it was obviously leading to. Zoey assumed once it did, the hue tinting the misty sphere would darken considerably.

Zoey departed quickly, feeling like she was intruding. And, obviously, as the previous, the dream wasn't territory she wanted to encroach on. Reasonably, the dreamworld didn't present only dreams suited to Zoey's preferences, but all dreams. She left the dark-haired man's burgeoning fantasy to himself.

The intimacy of the previous two fantasies made Zoey uncomfortable. Her initial wonder and excitement was fading now that the novelty was wearing off—if only in a tiny way—and she started to doubt the … well, ethicality behind this. She was effectively spying on people's inner thoughts and desires. For that matter, diving into someone's dream and commandeering it—especially in an exciting manner—was questionable, too. The people she partnered with wouldn't know Zoey was real, that their intimate fantasy was, while a dream, still with another actual person. Her enthusiasm sagged, realizing that.

Though … she wasn't so troubled with these realizations that she put off exploration entirely. Maybe peeking in on people's dreams wasn't strictly ethical, but Zoey wasn't some saint. At a minimum, she wanted to know more about how the strange landscape worked. The issue of inserting herself into the dreams, she would consider in a second, but as far as the lesser sin of peeking in—well, to assuage her guilt, she promised herself she'd keep their secrets. Not that she'd likely ever see any of these people again.

She explored, learning more about the dream world. It didn't take long to confirm a few rules. First, the color of the orb was the dream's classification, the primary emotion ruling it. The three most common were yellow, pink, and black. Stress, lust, and nightmares. Plenty others were present, though in smaller quantities. For example, red for anger. Blue was trickier, but she eventually settled on melancholy. The deeper the shade, the more it moved toward 'grief'.

The ribbons connecting the dreams were the stranger part. No matter how close or far she drew to them, they didn't change in size. That said, some were larger than others. Some so faint as to barely be visible, a thin floating strand of spidersilk, and some almost a finger's width, a taut wire. Those were rarer.

Closer inspection revealed nothing, but Zoey had a theory. It seemed the obvious one. With how the ribbons always led from one orb to another, the ribbons represented links. Relationships. The thin ones, acquaintances, the thicker, family or lovers. She couldn't prove the theory, floating between some of the endpoints, but it seemed reasonable. Barring proof otherwise, she tentatively accepted it as true.

Then, because she couldn't hold back her curiosity any longer, she found a candidate dream. As she'd expected, while she couldn't barge into dreams of different categorizations, the pink ones—lust—Zoey was much closer attuned to. She picked one with a lighter hue, where the action was building, but hadn't begun.

She didn't know if she felt comfortable doing anything inside the dream—anything exciting—but she still wanted to experiment with the capability.

The dream she picked was a promising one. The young, black-haired woman was out in public, seated on a park bench. With her hand on the orb, and focusing, Zoey found she could peer in and intuit the woman's thoughts and the developing scenario. Kali—and that was her name—fidgeted in place, glancing nervously around at the other park-goers.

Little by little, even, Zoey started to feel the woman's thoughts.

She shouldn 't be doing this. She had a book propped up on her lap, half-way blocking the view, so she ought to be kind of safe. But then again … not really. It was a terribly flimsy defense, and that was the point. Her other hand, the one not holding the book, slid across her inner thigh, thumb brushing against herself. She shivered in excitement.

In public. She shouldn 't.

She popped opened her pants button, breath coming faster. She looked around frantically. No one was paying attention, but still. Out in public. At the park. Really? She was doing this?

Her hand slid down her stomach, into her pants. She rubbed over her panties, massaging herself, heart slamming faster and faster. She felt the pounding in her ears. How had she gotten so insanely wet, so fast?

As long as she was careful, she 'd be fine. Right?

Zoey pulled out of the woman's thoughts, then shook her head in disorientation.

Could she enter the dream entirely?

Slowly, Zoey's outstretched hand sank into the glass. A moment later, she was falling, diving into Kali's fantasy.

Chapter 98

Chapter Text

Kali felt the dream crystallize. One moment, she was blissfully enjoying a tantalizing fantasy at the park, hand slipped into her panties as she rubbed herself, and the next, the dream became both ten times more real, and also blatantly false. Not only was she suddenly aware, but she could feel herself sleeping peacefully in her bed, both in the dream, and there. Two places at once.

She froze, hand stuffed into her pants. Her heart slammed from the tantalizing excitement of a moment earlier, and while it didn't fade, it shifted. She knew she was dreaming, now.

But the difference in clarity between the fantasy, and what she faced now, was night and day.

Shame surged through her as her hand in retreated. Really. This fantasy, again? At least this time it wasn't up on stage, pleasuring herself in front of an audience. Her perverted mind had insisted some discretion.

Why did she keep having these dreams?

Well, she knew why. The real question was, why did the idea of exposure excite her so much?

More importantly, what was going on? Why had everything become so startlingly real?

With the crystallization of the dream, and the awareness that she was dreaming, Kali's thoughts slowed, then picked up. Well, if it was a dream … then no harm, right?

Her heart started pumping faster than before.

Her hand slipped back into her panties.

She looked around. The park-goers seemed so much more like real people, now. She couldn't describe the effect, since when she'd been dreaming, she'd obviously thought the passersby had been perfectly real-looking, but something about this development had amplified everything. Even if it was a fantasy, somehow the change made things more exciting, not less.

A personal playground, perfect to life.

Kali tugged her book in closer, the shield feeling even more blatantly flimsy than before. And, emboldened, rather than rubbing at herself over her underwear, she slipped her fingers past the last layer of fabric and played with herself directly. Her arousal coated her fingers, and a shaky moan left her lips. She swallowed, astounded at how intense the dream had become. The pleasure, especially, had become incredibly vivid.

Her eyes skirted around, cheeks flushed, searching for anyone who might have caught her or started to grow suspicious. Even if she knew the people weren't real, the idea excited and terrified her. But nobody had. Though someone would, eventually.

That was the point.

In fact, maybe she should speed the process up. Enjoy this dream to the fullest. She closed her book and set it to the side. She wanted eyes on her. For a crowd to collect and give her disgusted looks as she openly pleasured herself on a park bench. Just how real would this dream be? What would it be like?

Before she could wiggle down her pants, though, and really garner the public's attention, somebody sat next to her, appearing from nowhere. Kali stiffened, hand still very obviously inside her pants.

"First off," the tall, stunningly gorgeous woman said, "let me say that you have great taste." She waved around, as if indicating the park. "I approve."

Kali stared at the black-haired woman, mouth slightly open, frozen in shock. Her hand was still buried in her panties. And what did Kali look like, right now? How red was her face? Had this woman heard her panting?

Because she'd been caught. By someone real. She could recognize that in an instant, bizarrely, in the same way she recognized the dream's crystallization. She couldn't explain the intuition, but she knew without a doubt.

Which meant, in a way, she really had just gotten caught masturbating in public.

Kali swallowed, sliding her hands out of her pants. Shame washed through her, and unfortunately, the mortifying emotions only swirled with her arousal, bringing it higher.

It really was such an unfortunate fetish of hers.

"Who are you?" Kali asked. She was proud to say her voice only wobbled slightly.

The woman was painfully beautiful. Perfect skin, deep emerald eyes, glossy black hair, and curves that stopped her heart. And … something less expected. A noticeable bulge in her pants. Kali's brain did a little somersault at that. For the obvious reason, but not only that, but the size of it.

"Zoey," the woman replied, lips turning up in amusement. She'd caught Kali looking, and Kali flushed. "Nice to meet you."

"What's going on?" Kali asked. "What is this? Is it your fault?"

Zoey paused. "Sorry? Is what my fault?"

"This dream."

She looked even more surprised. "You … know it's a dream?"

"And you. You're real. Who are you?"

Kali's questions had taken the woman aback. But Kali knew she was right, and Zoey could read the confidence in her accusations, too.

It took Zoey a few moments to organize her thoughts before she replied, "I stopped by out of curiosity."

Not really an answer. "Are you a wayfarer?" That was the simplest explanation Kali could come up with. But … how strange. "That can enter other people's dreams?"

"Yeah."

"Why me? Do I know you?" Kali wracked her brain, but she was pretty sure this wasn't a woman she'd forget.

"No reason. Just coincidence." Zoey's surprise was fading, reverting back to her easy confidence. She smirked. "You caught my attention with all this, I suppose." She waved around. "It's all a little … perverted, don't you think?"

Kali flushed. She got the impression Zoey was teasing her specifically because she knew the embarrassment excited her, not because she disapproved.

"And don't stop on my account," Zoey continued, the grin widening. "Weren't you busy?"

Kali's face burned. But … Zoey was real. In a dream, sure, and Kali didn't really know what was doing on, but she couldn't possibly be suggesting that Kali keep going in front of her? To put on a show?

"Or did you want some help?" Zoey asked.

Kali's heart skipped several beats. Her eyes skirted around the park, checking for anyone who might be watching. She'd picked a secluded spot so she wouldn't be caught too fast, but there were definitely people passing by. One walked past the bench now; if she'd still been pleasuring herself, the woman would've been plenty close enough to see her. Especially because she'd almost stripped off her pants and thrown all subtlety to the wind, indulging in the bizarrely real dream in full, before Zoey had interrupted her.

She wasn't sure how to feel about this. That apparently a wayfarer capable of entering dreams had stumbled in on hers. That this was a real person who had snuck into her mind. Maybe that ought to bother her more, but for the most part, it didn't.

Because something else occupied her mind. While she didn't know, fully, what was going on, she knew one thing. That she was insanely turned on. And second, that a beautiful woman had offered to fuck her in public. To fulfill a long-standing fantasy of hers.

Kali considered herself a fairly reserved person, and under normal circumstances, would never accept such overt, fast-moving advances of a stranger. But this was a dream, however real she knew the mysterious wayfarer was, and this event would be consequence free. A way to indulge in a shameful fantasy in the realest manner she could without, well, serious legal problems.

Kali, in a burst of surprising confidence, scooted across the bench, pressing herself into the strange woman.

"It's rude to barge into people's dreams," she said, and it felt like someone else was speaking the words, "but I guess you can make it up to me."

Zoey didn't need further prompting. Her hand replaced where Kali's had been a few moments prior, sliding down her stomach. So confident. No hesitation. Kali sucked in a breath of air as Zoey's warm hand trailed down, then into her panties. Digits provided pressure against her slick, needy core.

It felt so real. As if this was happening in person. The differences between this dream world and reality were nonexistent. Yes, she felt her body sleeping in her bed half a dimension away, but it didn't mute the sensations of Zoey's fingers playing with her.

How her heart could be slamming so loudly without her waking up was a bit of a mystery. Could she wake up, if she wanted to? Or was she trapped here?

Trapped in the most wonderful sense of the word.

"Is that—is that a dick?" Kali finally asked.

Maybe in the real world she wouldn't have been so blunt. It felt rude, even here. Then again, Zoey had been rude by invading her thoughts, so fair was fair.

And Zoey didn't seem bothered. She leaned close to Kali's ear, and hot breath tickled her, making her shiver. "Why? Do you want to see it?"

"Now? But …"

Kali felt silly as soon as she said the words. They were in a dream. They weren't actually in public. It was why she'd so brazenly allowed Zoey to start rubbing her pussy in the first place.

Zoey didn't tease her, though. In fact, she played into the situation. "If it means I get to show off, I'm willing to risk getting caught. Are you?"

Kali shivered for a different reason this time. Maybe this wasn't real exhibitionism, but she was still painfully turned on.

"And who knows?" Zoey continued, mouth close to Kali's ear, fingers rubbing away inside her panties. "Maybe this dream is special, now that I'm here. Maybe those people are real. Drawn here. Dreaming, like us, but still real. And they're about to catch me fingering you out in the open, on a park bench."

The idea thrilled through Kali, and a groan escaped the back of her throat. It was a non-zero chance. Clearly, something was strange was going on. If Zoey could be here, and be real, then maybe other conscious people had come along for the ride.

For the sake of the fantasy, she believed it whole heartedly.

Two of Zoey's fingers slid inside Kali, and embarrassingly, her back arched, and she almost fell apart right there. Her hand shot to Zoey's wrist, stilling her. Zoey stopped.

"Let's go somewhere else," Kali said. She wanted to do this right.

"Really?"

"Somewhere less private," Kali breathed, pulling Zoey's hand out. "We need a proper audience."

Chapter 99

Chapter Text

Kali pulled the strange woman along by her hand, shaking with excitement. Other park-goers gave her odd looks, obviously wondering why she was so flustered. The people seemed so real. Emotive, distinct, with realistic reactions. Were they actually other people dreaming, dragged in by Zoey's arrival?

Maybe if she hadn't been quivering with arousal, she would've questioned her mysterious intruder. As it was, she pulled the woman to the central fountain of the park, which teemed with visitors—it was the middle of the day, prime time to bask in the sun—and sat on the stone ledge wrapping around the water's perimeter. The fountain trickled in a steady stream.

Zoey sat next to her. Kali spared a glance for the impressive bulge in her pants. She'd be acquainting herself to that shortly, but she needed to work up the courage.

"Okay," Kali said. "Go ahead."

Surprising her, Zoey tugged her onto her lap. She handled her easily, with a strength that didn't seem to fit. Though, that made sense. A wayfarer. How strong of one?

Those thoughts were chased away. A thick, hot rod pressed against her ass through layers of fabric. And … it was growing. Already it felt bigger than anything she'd seen or heard of, and it kept going. Just what kind of monster did this woman keep down there?

Then Zoey's hands slipped into Kali's pants, and, forgoing further teasing—the heavens knew Kali didn't need more—she plunged two fingers inside her.

She moaned, and this time, people looked.

People looked. Curious eyes pivoted to Kali at the loud noise. Not many. The park was crowded, and there was a bustle of people, but Zoey and Kali were just two seated around the fountain. Not prominent or loud enough to draw everyone's attention. But definitely some.

Zoey had, apparently, decided to get straight to things.

A cute blonde woman not far away, lounging on the fountain's edge like they were, widened her eyes in surprise. An older gentleman as well. A couple, seated on a bench a dozen feet away. There were varied reactions to seeing Zoey's hand shoved down Kali's pants, and Kali's bright and flustered face. Some confused, as if not immediately understanding the sight that met them.

They were watching her. Oh, gods. She was letting this happen.

"Pull up your shirt," Zoey murmured into her ear. "Give them a show."

"Z-Zoey."

"Do it."

The authority in her voice surprised Kali—and made her stomach clench with need.

Well … if she'd been ordered to …

Kali bundled up her shirt, setting her exposed skin on fire. More people looked, and their reactions resolved faster into shock.

"Bra too," Zoey ordered.

"B-But—"

"Now."

Kali tugged down her bra, revealing her tits. The activity around the park fountain stilled as more and more people looked over and saw what was happening. Some simply stared. Other faces twisted into disapproval or even disgust at their indecency. That was almost better, squirming her insides with shame and making Zoey's thrusting fingers send electricity through her body. Others watched with lust.

"Fuck me," Kali moaned, shaking on top of Zoey's lap, feeling her thick cock rub into her leg. She needed more.

"You're a little pervert, are you?" Zoey laugh-murmured into her ear. "Look at them watch."

"No," Kali gasped. "I mean fuck me. Please."

Zoey's fingers stilled. Maybe she'd thought Kali would want to work into things slower, and that had been true a second ago. Not anymore. She wanted something thick and hard inside her. To complete this indecent act and degrade herself as thoroughly as possible in front of the gathering crowd.

Not that there was a crowd. The reactions were real to life. Mostly, people stared from their respective places, shocked and unable to tear their eyes away. Some enjoyed Kali's exposure, some were disapproving. No one approached. A few people had frozen on the walkway.

Zoey's hand slipped from Kali's pants, and Kali wiggled the fabric down her legs, revealing her panties to her audience. Entire body on fire, she pulled those down, next. Revealing herself. Her pussy. To everyone watching.

Zoey followed, freeing her cock. Kali looked down between her legs, eyes widening. It reached to Zoey's knee, radiating heat into Kali. What in the world? How was it so big?

Well. It was a dream. She must have made it for this purpose. Adjusted it, somehow. How much could Zoey control their environment? If she could enter dreams, could she manipulate them?

Not that Kali was able to focus on her curiosity. Zoey stood, pushing Kali onto her feet, and before she knew it, the tip of that enormous, thick rod was sliding against her pussy, warning her of imminent entry.

She was … about to be fucked. In public. By a girl with a cock. A cock as long and thick as her forearm. While everyone was watching.

Zoey pushed in. Kali moaned, hot cock filling her pussy, spreading her apart in a way she had never experienced. Stuffed full. She'd never had so much cock crammed into her in her entire life. Her pussy strained to accommodate Zoey's enormous, throbbing girldick.

And it happened in front of a crowd that slowly grew both larger, and even more shocked than before. They murmured to each other, looking side to side, as if not believing. Hazily, she basked in their admiration, disgust, and surprise, one hand diligently keeping her bra and shirt tugged up for their viewing pleasure.

Then Zoey scooped her up, making Kali's pants vanish and freeing her confined legs. Then, suspended in the air by two powerful arms, she spread Kalie's legs wide open, displaying her fourteen inch cock pushing into Kali's pussy for everyone to see.

How was it fitting? She could feel Zoey in her stomach. It literally bulged her tummy outward by an inch or more. And that bulge kept crawling higher up her skin. She was torn between watching that, and her audience.

Zoey bottomed out, then started pumping. She bounced Kali up and down her enormous girldick, handling her weight easily. The strength of a wayfarer. Kali suddenly understood why so many of her friends talked about them with so much admiration and envy.

"They like it," Zoey whispered in her ear. "They like watching your pussy get spread open. And you do too. You're such a shameless slut, aren't you?"

Kali's head went fuzzy. Zoey slapped into her, cramming cock into her deepest reaches. It probably ought to hurt, having fourteen inches of girldick pump into her cervix, but it didn't. It was the most amazing thing she'd ever felt, triply amplified by how eyes crawled across her body. Strangers. A sea of strangers, watching another woman cram her full of cock.

She could get addicted to this. Maybe she already was. Would she be able to resist keeping this to dreams, now that she knew how amazing it was? What would it be like in real life?

"That was a question," Zoey growled into her ear. "Say it for your audience."

"I'm … I'm a shameless slut," she gasped. "A stupid … whore. Who likes being fucked for other people to watch."

Fire coursed through her, and she couldn't fight it. Not remotely. It was overwhelming in its pleasure.

"A stupid whore who's about to cum for me?" Zoey asked.

"Y-Yes."

"Louder."

"A stupid whore who's going to come for you," Kali cried out, shaking. "A-And her audience. She's cumming for her audience."

Kali's body arched as the first hints of orgasm started to clench her. She cried out, and—

— and somebody shook her shoulder, wrenching her out of the dream and back into the waking world. Her pussy pounded with echoes of Zoey's enormous cock. Her arousal remained, even if the cock bringing her ecstasy had disappeared. She shot up in bed, blinking at the darkness.

"Kali?" Amy asked, wide-eyed. "Are you okay?"

Kali panted, body slick with sweat, face burning. She stared at her roommate, brain struggling to piece together what had happened. And to sort past her outrage of being denied one of the most intense orgasms she'd ever felt.

"You were being really loud," Amy squeaked.

Amy, too, was flushed. Almost as much as Kali. Kali could imagine what kinds of noises she'd been making. They must have been intense for Amy to barge in and check on her.

Kali ought to be mortified. And she was. But another emotion superseded it. A coursing heat—the first hints of orgasm that had been so rudely canceled by Amy shaking her shoulder.

"I was having the most amazing dream of my life," Kali said flatly, "and you interrupted it."

Amy stared, wide-eyed and mouth open, at her.

"And now I need to finish," Kali said, "so you should probably leave."

She was too addled by lust to be horrified at her bluntness. She and Amy were roommates and close friends, but not nearly on that level of honesty. For Kali to admit that she desperately needed to finger-fuck herself to ease the burning neediness between her legs. Not that her fingers would match up to Zoey's cock, and the fantasy she'd been in, but she needed relief.

Which was why Amy's response shocked her so much.

"Do you … want help?"

For a long moment, Kali stared, sorting through the meaning of the words. Then she grabbed Amy by the waist and pulled her into bed.

Zoey was ejected from Kali's dream all at once, no warning or explanation why. One moment she'd had the timid dark-haired exhibitionist's pussy squeezing her cock, the next she'd popped back into the dream world, orbs of varied light sprawled in every direction, set on a backdrop of inky black.

She didn't have a cock, anymore, as a formless entity made of thought, but despite that fact, her spirit-dick throbbed in annoyance. She hadn't been close to finishing, but being interrupted like that was highly unsatisfying. Plus, she'd felt Kali starting to clamp down, and Zoey had been excited to feel her spasm in her grip.

What had happened? She inspected Kali's dream orb, but it had faded. She couldn't make out the details anymore, obscured by impenetrable gray mist. Even the strands of light that connected her orb to others had disappeared to an almost invisible black. The only reason she could identify them was because she'd been spat out right in front of it. Was this what dream orbs looked like when their target was awake?

Kali had been woken, then? It was the only explanation she could come up with. She doubted Kali had forcefully ejected Zoey from her dream, if that was even possible.

Not fair. Even if Zoey herself had been denied, she'd have liked to felt Kali's orgasm wrack across her, squeezing her cock with her tight, spasming pussy walls. Such a rude interruption.

Maybe she could come back later? But how would she find this orb in the enormous sea of them? Could she mark it, somehow?

Either way, in the short term, she'd been thoroughly cockblocked.

Chapter 100

Chapter Text

For a short while longer, Zoey explored the sparkling expanse of the dreamworld.

She was disappointed how her lustful indulgences with Kali had been abruptly cut off, but even interrupted, it had been fun. She wondered if she could find a way to meet up with the woman in real life. That park they'd gone to—was it real? She didn't know the name, but there were only so many in Treyhull; she could probably track it down. Would Kali do the same?

Though maybe it would be for the best if she didn't. While fun, Zoey was supposed to be minimizing her presence. Plus, she wouldn't be at Treyhull much longer.

So she wouldn't seek out Kali, exciting as that event had been.

For now, she sated herself with drifting through the inky expanse dotted with dream orbs, exploring. She thought she had a grasp on how the liminal space worked, but more could reveal itself on closer inspection.

Mostly, Zoey was curious about the 'links'. The dream orbs had shown themselves to be what she expected—ways to slip into dreams of the sleeping—but she'd yet to fully identify the strands that entangled the structure. Relationships, she felt fairly confident in saying, but hadn't confirmed it. The most concrete proof she could dig up was that, with some frequency, links from one orb to another included people who looked similar. Family, maybe.

Obviously, that was far from hard proof. But something that edged her suspicion away from 'unsubstantiated theory' to 'slightly substantiated'. Because what other ideas could she come up with for what the links were?

Ten or fifteen minutes into Zoey's explorations, a suspicion hit her. Something obvious in retrospect. If each of the dream orbs—which represented individuals—had relationship links, did she?

She explored her incorporeal self. On initial inspection, there didn't seem to be any of the strands that represented 'links', and certainly none that were obvious, floating in her peripheral. But on closer inspection, with a deliberate effort to seek them out, she found some. Strands of light trailing into the distance.

Faded, though. Dark gray and barely noticeable, she only caught them after a scrutinizing inspection. And only a few. Since Zoey only had four meaningful relationships in this world—Rosalie, Delta, Sabina, and Maddy—and they were all solidly awake, with Zoey taking a midday nap to play with the dream potion, she assumed the links were inactive, the reason they were gray and faded. The same dulled state that Kali's dream orb had shifted into upon her waking.

Curious, Zoey followed one of the strands. The endeavor didn't yield much. She found herself in front of a foggy orb, identical to Kali's. She didn't know who it belonged to. The target being awake, there was nothing to experiment with; she could neither invade the orb nor get a hint of what lay inside.

Idly, Zoey sorted through the other strands radiating from her chest, disappointed there weren't any active ones. There were four prominent, but other smaller strings, too. At a guess, they represented inconsequential relationships. Likely, Fe, the artificer, was one of the larger 'smaller' strands, bordering between a real relationship and not. Other thinner ones were truly brief interactions: the dressing room girl she'd enjoyed, Delta's two dates, the guides that had led them through realms to Treyhull, if Zoey had to make some guesses.

Then, Zoey found a stranger link.

Spidersilk thin, it had been easy to miss. And beyond that, it was … different. Not gray and faded like the others. She'd missed it because of its size. And because it pointed upwards, not sideways.

Even odder, with Zoey's attention falling on it, the string grew. From hair-thin, it expanded in Zoey's awareness, from near invisible to pulsating and thicker than the rest. It vibrated in her vision, flaking off tiny crystalline shards. The space around it twisted with chromatic aberrations, flickering from one color to the next, disappearing when she looked at them.

Otherworldly. That was the immediate word that came to mind, watching the bizarre effects.

Otherworldly.

As if what lay on the other end wasn't quite human.

Zoey had a suspicion what she'd stumbled onto. For a second, she hesitated. Then, latching to the strand, she followed the path it provided. Rather than horizontal, it led her upward into the sky, away from the sea of dream orbs.

Away from the mortals.

Venturing far above the floating mass of dream orbs, Zoey traced the strand into the heavens. Arriving, the glass ball that met her was larger, thicker, and sparkling in hundreds of colors, the same otherworldly material the linking-strand was made of. Zoey studied the object.

She didn't intend to fall in. Rather, she was pulled. Before she could even realize what was happening, she sank, against her will, into the consciousness of a goddess.

Cool wind buffeted Zoey, blowing through her hair and across her skin, carrying the invigorating scent of salt water. Above, the sun beat down, washing grassy plains in bright light.

A short distance away, a goddess stood on the edge of a cliff.

Ephy's hands were clasped behind her back as she leaned forward, peering across the sea churning hundreds of feet below. Her see-through white dress fluttered in the wind, hugging divine curves, and even a sight of the goddess almost stopped Zoey's heart. Her memories hadn't done the woman justice. The goddess of beauty, fertility, and lust.

"I wondered when you'd get in contact," Ephythithys said, not turning to face her. "It's been almost a week. You'll make a girl feel neglected, you know?"

Zoey floundered for a response—or even to form coherent thoughts. She had intended to find a way to speak with Ephy, but not today, through the dream potion. It was an awfully convenient result, but at the same time, not. She hadn't organized what she wanted to say. And when it came to speaking with divine beings, she would rather have been prepared.

"I mean, not even trying?" Ephy continued. "A few prayers? I'm not worth that?" She faced Zoey, and, again, Zoey's heart almost stopped beating. Ephy pouted at her, exaggerating her disappointment. "Gallivanting across the Fractures, stuffing nubile young bodies full with seed, is what I told you to do. But the world's ending, you know? You should probably worry about that more than you are."

Zoey continued to struggle to find words. It was hard to put into words how disarming Ephy's presence was. Much more so than the first time. Was she doing something?

Ephy smirked, then advanced on Zoey. "Cat got your tongue?" The paper-thin fabric of her dress blew in the wind as she approached. Thin as it was, it hid nothing. Ephy's body was on full display, accented by the sunlight piercing the material and the way it hugged her curves. The false effort of concealment only made it more tantalizing. It was unfair how gorgeous this woman was. This being was. A goddess. In the literal sense.

"I suppose I'm being mean, not dampening my presence," Ephy said. "But the admiration. I do appreciate it. I'm a vain goddess, and I won't pretend otherwise."

She sighed despondently, then, with great reluctance, the overwhelming distraction disappeared. Or … lessened. Zoey's thoughts cleared, and she could suddenly think. Her mind wasn't consumed by the perfect being in front of her.

"Teasing mortals is too easy," Ephy said. "It's beneath me." She stepped forward and whispered, close enough hot breath brushed Zoey's face, "But at the same time, I do like being on top."

Zoey swallowed. Not overwhelming and mind-erasing anymore, but Ephy, even holding back her divine presence, was hard to deal with.

"Ephy," Zoey finally said. "It's, um, nice to see you."

She wasn't sure she meant the words, but being impolite to a goddess seemed unwise.

"Aw. It's nice to see you, too." She traced a finger down Zoey's jaw. "Though, I know you're mad. You're not good at hiding what you think, dearest disciple of mine." She took another step forward, pressing her breasts into Zoey's, and she looked up with pleading blue eyes. "Maybe there's something I can do to say sorry?"

"Play fair," Zoey said, turning her face away. Her heart had already been racing, but having Ephy's curves pressed into her was producing other unfortunate reactions.

Ones which Ephy seemed delighted by. A hand seized Zoey's stiffening cock, and Zoey realized for the first time she'd been brought into this … dream world? … naked.

"No, really," Ephy breathed, pressing her body closer to Zoey's. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Zoey retreated several steps, Ephy's grip slipping from her cock. Ephy pouted.

"We need to talk," Zoey said firmly. The words came out with more conviction than she admittedly felt.

"We do," Ephy said. "But it can wait a few moments, can't it?" She advanced on Zoey, and unfortunately, she couldn't force herself to retreat a second time. Her grip returned to Zoey's cock, and a noise escaped the back of Zoey's throat at the touch. Even just holding her, the pleasure of Ephy's grip was indescribable. "And it will only be a few moments. I don't think you'd last very long against me."

Probably true. If there were anyone who could take Zoey apart in a few short moments, it would be the goddess of lust.

"Plus, I gave you this, didn't I?" Ephy asked, squeezing. "I'm entitled to enjoy it, aren't I?"

Zoey's head spun. She didn't trust this woman. She wouldn't say she hated Ephy, but at the same time, she remembered their first interaction. The things she had said. A specific exchange stuck out. 'Sensuality cares little for consent. Don't mistake me for something I'm not.'

Possibly this woman was Zoey's ally, but more likely, Zoey was her pawn. Zoey doubted her well-being was Ephy's highest priority. And Ephy's methodology—what she stood for—Zoey didn't condone, either.

But with Ephy's hand stroking up and down her cock, it was hard keep those thoughts in mind.

"We need to talk," Zoey gasped.

"Then tell me to stop," Ephy said, smirking. Her hand traveled Zoey's length. Their nipples brushed together, sending electricity up and down Zoey's spine. The urge to grab Ephy's ass and tug her in—or more, pin her down and indulge entirely—was almost overwhelming. How did it feel so good? Just her hand, her body pressed into Zoey's? She knew why. It was the white-hot aspect of a goddess.

Still, knowing didn't make it easier to resist.

For a moment, Zoey basked in Ephy's hand taking care of her, unable to help herself.

She wasn't sure how she worked up the nerve, but she somehow did. "Stop. We need to talk."

Ephy's movements stilled, her skilled digits ceasing their stroking.

Zoey agonized that she'd listened. She'd said the words, but she didn't know if she'd meant them. She wanted nothing more than for Ephy to continue. To be pleasured by the literal paragon of lust and fertility. If her hand felt that amazing, what would her pussy feel like? And all Zoey had to do to find out was nothing. Allow Ephy to continue.

"You are learning," Ephy said, amused. "That's a surprising amount of restraint, for a gigantic pervert." She sighed, "I knew I made a good choice, but how disappointing. I thought we were going to have some fun."

She pulled away from Zoey, hand separating from her cock, and leaving her swaying in place.

Her thoughts returned, bit by bit.

"I want answers," Zoey said.

"I can give some," Ephy said, with a hint of dismissiveness. She'd expected it. Maybe she'd expected all of this. Zoey's arrival in the first place, despite her implications of surprise. She was a goddess. Not that Zoey knew, really, what that meant. "But some, I cant. Ask away, dear disciple, and I'll tell you what I can."

Chapter 101

Chapter Text

So, Zoey had finally managed an audience with her patron goddess. Unfortunately, she wasn't prepared for it. Could she ever be? Even holding eye contact with the divine being turned her thoughts sluggish. If she'd had an airtight battle plan for this meeting, even then she might have struggled through it.

Had she really turned down an opportunity to be pleasured by a goddess of sex?

Some of Zoey's questions were obvious, so she led with those. Hopefully as she talked, she'd organize herself.

"When we first met, you told me I couldn't tell anyone about this. You and me, and … everything." She didn't remember the exact wording, to be honest. "But what if I wanted to? Tell someone?"

Ephy gave her a flat look. "You're supposed to be saving the world," she said, "and you finally luck into a meeting with me. But the first thing you ask is if you can tell your girlfriend the truth. You are gross, you know that?"

Embarrassingly, Zoey blushed. She hadn't expected to be chided by Ephy.

The goddess continued, "Romantics. You all are the worst." She waved her hand. "You took that warning too literally. It was a friendly suggestion. You haven't had many problems down in the Fractures, but it's a brutal labyrinth filled with brutal people, let me assure you. Babbling on about being chosen by a goddess, coming from another world, and shouting out your incredible, so easy to exploit abilities … I didn't think you were an idiot, but it was a necessary warning." She rolled her eyes. "You can tell your girlfriend, if you want, even if I don't condone it, necessarily. I certainly wouldn't punish you. I wouldn't break the Compact for something so pointless. For that matter, there's little I can do, to either help or hurt."

That announcement came as a surprise. "You can't? Does that mean it wasn't you who … ?"

Ephy quirked an eyebrow.

"Well," Zoey said. "I figured you'd been meddling. It feels like things have lined up too perfectly, too often."

"Such as?"

"Well," Zoey said. "My skill, to name the biggest. Growth? Where we get bonus experience for waiting between shards." It'd been given shortly after the dilemma with Rosalie wanting to push harder for advancement, giving them an excuse to slow down. It had smoothed over a rather unsolvable problem with almost divine timing. Zoey had been highly suspicious of it.

"That sounds useful," Ephy said. "No. My actions in Ezariel's world are limited. I picked your runes, and organized your first meeting with that delightful little pervert, but that was it."

"Delightful little pervert?" That was an interesting way to describe Rosalie, and Ephy smirked. Zoey supposed it was somewhat of an accurate description.

The reminder of their 'first meeting' also had Zoey's heart rate picking up. When she'd been introduced to Rosalie, it had been crammed together, naked, in the coffin of the first shard.

The forceful arrangement of that didn't sit perfectly with Zoey, but she had bigger things to concern herself with. "Ezariel?" Zoey asked. "Who's that? And you mentioned something about a Compact?"

"Heavenly politics," Ephy said. "I could speak of it, but it's mostly irrelevant. Ezariel in specific, with me having sent you to his world, is off limits. As I said, there's much I can't answer."

"Can't," Zoey said.

"Can't."

Huh. Not wouldn't.

"But I can tell them, then?" Zoey asked. "Whoever I want? About you? Earth, the danger they're in, whatever?"

"Do as you please," Ephy said. "Though I suggest discretion."

Zoey considered that. One of the larger motivations behind her secrecy had been Ephy's command not to tell others her origin and task. But it hadn't been an order, apparently. With those restrictions lifted, who would she tell? Rosalie, certainly. Delta? Zoey trusted her, but telling her that the world was ending? And that she'd been chosen by a goddess? It would be a hard sell. And Zoey still knew too little about all of it, anyway.

"Why Rosalie?" Zoey asked.

"Did I arrange your meeting?"

"Yeah."

"For convenience's sake. A head start."

"How so?"

Ephy quirked an eyebrow.

"Just because of her skill in wayfaring?" Zoey clarified. "Or other reasons?"

"Are you sure you want me to tell you?" Ephy asked.

Zoey hesitated. No, actually. She didn't. To answer that, Ephy would have to explain who Rosalie was. Zoey had some suspicions—as did Delta, just by Rosalie's behaviors—but she'd rather get confirmations from Rosalie herself.

"No," Zoey said. "I'll ask myself. It wouldn't be right."

Ephy rolled her eyes, though, oddly, she didn't seem disapproving. Just exasperated.

"So. The threat to the world. What is it?"

Ephy smiled. "Finally, we get to the relevant material." She took a deep breath, as if about to go on a monologue, then said: "I can't tell you." Another smile. "Obviously."

Zoey had suspected as much. She couldn't imagine a reason for Ephy having kept her in the dark from the start except because she either had to, or because it furthered her goals, somehow. It seemed it was the former.

"Why do you care, anyway?" Zoey asked.

"About the peril of a world?" Ephy seemed amused. "My, you do have a low opinion of me."

"This one isn't yours, though," Zoey said. "It's Ezariel's world, you said." Whoever that was. "So why do you care?"

Simple altruism? Or some other reason? Zoey didn't actually think Ephy was … what, genocidal, or something … but she suspected ulterior motivations. This woman seemed conniving, to say the least.

"You're mostly correct," Ephy said, but didn't expand on what she meant.

Zoey could intuit they'd bumped up on the edges of what Ephy was willing, or could, tell her about. "So I have to figure it out myself."

"You're an enterprising young woman," Ephy said. "And with some enormous advantages in place. So I have the utmost faith in you."

"I've learned pretty much nothing," Zoey said, embarrassed at admitting it. "Barely further than where I started." At least when it came to discovering … whatever. The threat.

"I would suggest a more diligent pace, when it comes to your primary mission," Ephy agreed. She tapped Zoey on the nose, then said, "You've been a bit lackadaisical on the whole 'end of the world' business, I do admit. While I highly approve of your determination to cum inside every friend you make, remember this is only half a vacation. You have a purpose, here."

Zoey blushed at the crude phrasing, which Ephy of course delighted in. Then, a mortifying thought hit her. "You haven't been watching, have you?"

Ephy's lips curled, an amused glint appearing in her eye. "Are you sure you want to know?"

Did she? Ephy was a goddess. Maybe by her aspect alone, she was aware of any lewd interactions, between anyone, anywhere. Zoey didn't fully comprehend what divinity meant.

Either way, she figured she'd rather not know. "You said you wanted me to ascend," Zoey said. "To join you, after all this."

"A secondary goal," Ephy said. "You caught my eye as a candidate. Such things aren't so simple, though. Even this initial task will be difficult, much less ascension into lesser divinity—as my true disciple."

Zoey eyed the woman, digesting the words. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be a subordinate to Ephy. Beyond her obvious maneuvering, Zoey was still hung up on the whole, 'sensuality cares little for consent' part of Ephy's divine aspect.

Ephy watched her, quirking a knowing eyebrow. Could she read her thoughts? Zoey didn't think so, but again, the details behind godhood were not so much hazy as entirely opaque.

"Wondering if I'd make a good boss, come the day you rise up to meet me?" Ephy asked. She stepped forward, pressing her chest back into Zoey's. "I promise, working under me would come with such wonderful benefits. I don't think you'd complain. There'd be some days with long, sweaty hours, though. I'd really, really put you to work, underneath me."

Zoey cleared her throat, taking a step back. "How does it work? Ascending."

Rather than be offended, Ephy continued to pleased at Zoey's restraint—that she'd stepped away.

"Oh, you'll figure it out. Or you won't."

"You aren't being very helpful."

"I can't act so directly," Ephy said. "I told you. That includes spelling out what, when, and how I need you to handle things in Ezariel's world." She waved her hand. "Besides, for all you've been a bit too occupied with entertaining yourself, you haven't done anything wrong. You need to get stronger. In that regard, you've set an adequate pace."

"But?"

"But information is the key to overcoming any meaningful problem," Ephy said pointedly. "So, yes. Enjoy using my blessing to its highest potential," she gave a pointed look to Zoey's crotch, "and by all means, fuck your girlfriends mindless until they worship at an altar of your cock. In fact, I insist you do."

Ephy really had a knack for colorful phrasing.

"But keep focused," Ephy said. "I'll remind you, this is a world you live in. Moreover, your friends. Letting this threat fester is a poor idea, if you care about their, and your, wellbeing."

Zoey's alarm rose. It was an obvious point, but still, the danger laid out so plainly induced some justified panic. If she failed, then what? Rosalie was doomed? Delta, Maddy, Sabina? Somehow the gravity of that situation hadn't set in.

"How long do I have?" Ephy couldn't answer that, obviously, but the concerned question slipped out by instinct. "And there's nothing you can do to help? Not even give me a hint?"

"Perhaps I could do something," Ephy said. "I'd have to be roundabout, though. Circumspect." She tapped her lips with a slim pointer finger. "There's some happenings going on right now that would make it easier to nudge you in the right direction. Hm. But circumspect. Let's say … an old acquaintance of yours needs help."

"An old acquaintance?"

"Indeed," Ephy said. "And the window to do so grows short, since she's not someone who sleeps often." Ephy gave her an up-and-down. "Before you go, though, let me warn you I won't allow this barging-in to my consciousness again. Goddesses have important things to be doing, you know, and don't appreciate intrusion. Even by favored champions."

Zoey raised an eyebrow at that.

Ephy pouted. "I do! Super important machinations. Plus, I prefer more typical communion. This was too easy. If you want to talk, reach me the normal way."

"And the normal way is?"

"And show some team pride," Ephy scolded. "It's not often we pick champions. At least identify as a priestess of mine. Maybe we don't align on all our virtues, but some of them," she poked Zoey's chest, "we clearly do."

Zoey didn't have a response for that, and Ephy didn't give her time to find one.

"But as I said, the clock is ticking. So," Ephy placed both hands on her stomach, "go save the world."

Zoey staggered back as Ephy pushed her. Except, not physically, but in some stranger way. The world shattered like a pane of glass, and Zoey tipped, arms careening, and then she fell, sinking into darkness. The shards of bright colors—the shattered pieces of glass—that had seconds ago made up the world faded into the distance as she plummeted. Wind rushed through her hair, then she slammed to a stop—

—back into the dream world, just in time to see Ephy's dream orb flicker once, twice, then disappear.

Chapter 102

Chapter Text

For a moment, Zoey stayed there, staring at the blank void where Ephy's dream orb had been floating.

Annoyance reared up. Again, their meeting had been cut off with Ephy gleefully shoving her through worlds and encouraging her to 'get to it'. Zoey had plenty more questions she'd have liked to ask her enigmatic, morally dubious sponsor, but now she wouldn't get that opportunity.

Not until she 'communed the more traditional way', whatever that meant—a question Ephy had deliberately dodged. Her access to Ephy through the dreamworld had been a one-time thing.

But, Zoey admitted after thinking her situation through, Ephy had more of a reason for the quick dismissal, this time. She was on a time limit, apparently. She'd been given a vague, mysterious warning, and been told that the 'clock was ticking'.

She didn't feel any serious worry, because Ephy didn't mean Rosalie, Delta, Maddy, or Sabina. She had specifically said 'an old acquaintance' of Zoey's, and Zoey got the impression she'd chosen her words carefully, since she 'had to be circumspect'. So Zoey had everything she needed. She just had to decipher it.

An old acquaintance. Someone sleeping. But who rarely slept, too. That was an odd tidbit to specify. Also intentional, Zoey suspected. But Zoey wasn't sure what to make of it.

Floating there, far above the sea of orbs that made up the mortal realm, Zoey considered.

Who were her 'old acquaintances'? She didn't think Ephy meant from Earth, because not only were Zoey's memories still fuzzy—if glacially coming more and more into focus—but because she couldn't possibly see how it would relate. Still, she didn't discard the idea entirely, she simply set it aside.

Others, then. It wasn't a long list. She could count the number of people she considered acquaintances on both hands. People she'd interacted with in more than a completely superficial way, yet she didn't consider a friend. Honestly, maybe it'd fit on a single hand.

Who did it leave? She'd spoken with both of the guides who had led her to Treyhull in a slightly more than superficial manner, considering the long, many-hour trip. The second one less than the first; the golem-woman hadn't been talkative. Then there was the dressing room girl, Callie. Fe, too, though she bordered on friend. Who else?

Not-Zoey?

The idea popped into her mind abruptly, being someone Zoey had definitely interacted with in a thorough matter, but someone she didn't consider a friend, exactly.

Obviously, the other option followed shortly.

Mel.

An old acquaintance. Besides Rosalie, Mel was the first sapient being she'd talked to. And Zoey didn't consider her a friend; acquaintance fit better. And rarely slept? That stranger tidbit suddenly made sense, applied to the slimegirl. Not that Zoey knew how boss monsters worked, but it would make sense if Mel slept less than humans, if at all.

She needed Zoey's help?

That alarmed her, despite Zoey not particularly considering her a friend. She didn't wish harm on Mel, certainly. Her existence as a boss monster, a person who'd probably killed adventurers before, did present some ethical oddities to sort through, but Zoey didn't want her hurt.

Plus, Ephy wanted Zoey to go save her for the sake of whatever was wrong with the world. Zoey would have gone and helped regardless, but that doubly sealed the deal.

Assuming she'd gotten it right. The pieces did fit, though, and the list of potential options wasn't long.

How would she help, though? Ephy wanted her to visit Mel in the dream world? That was why she'd shoved Zoey out and spurred her on. Mel wouldn't be sleeping for long, so they had a short time window for this to work.

Frowning, Zoey sorted through the various strands attached to her, representing relationships. She descended back into the mortal sea of orbs while doing so.

She couldn't tell which string belonged to who. The thickness gave hints, indicating the strength of the relationship, but the more important factor was the string's 'activity'. With the person on the other end of the string sleeping, the strand went gray and dull.

But all of them were dull. Being the middle of the day, Zoey taking a nap after magic lessons, none of her few acquaintances and friends were also asleep.

So, did that mean she didn't have a strand attaching to Mel? Or was it hidden in the same way as Ephy's? Ephy's, despite its prismatic and otherworldly origin, had been difficult to identify. It hadn't been a physical shuffling of the relationship strands, done with her hands—she didn't have those, right now, simply a floating consciousness that moved in the direction she ferried it—but rather an odder, mental action. Existing in this place in general was surreal, hard to describe.

Zoey did so again, sorting through the links that bound her to other people. As a boss monster, surely it would look different from everyone else's, like Ephy's had.

Slowly, Zoey's inspection yielded fruit.

Two strands appeared: one dull blue, pointing straight down, in the same way Ephy's had up, and the other, also pointing down, but gray and inactive. Mel, and Not-Zoey? Sleeping and not sleeping?

Since Zoey was on a time crunch, she didn't celebrate her victory. She seized the string and swam downward, following her pathway to the slimegirl she had so long ago—though really, only a week—lost her second type of virginity to.

It would be nice to see Mel again. She'd been pleasant, and, though exhausting, satisfying her to complete the first shard was one of the memories Zoey looked more fondly on since coming to this world. Though, by the sounds of it, Zoey was on a rescue mission. She didn't think she'd be getting to have too much fun with Mel.

Then again, considering the strange nature of Ephy's patronage, and how Zoey had needed to solve problems in the past, maybe rescuing Mel would involve some sticky business.

Slowly, Mel's dreamorb came into view.

She could make out a few details inside the dream, as Zoey could with other active orbs. The curvy green goo-girl ran through familiar stone hallways encrusted with vines. She shot looks over her shoulder, eyes wide with fear. Running from something? But this was a dream, right? This wasn't the danger Ephy had mentioned?

For a moment, Zoey's self preservation tried to reason with her. Without a single idea of what this situation was, the dangers involved, she really ought to think carefully about what she should do.

But those thoughts didn't make much headway. Zoey saw a running, terrified Mel, and immediately dove into the dreamorb to help.

Like twice before, first with Kali then with Ephy, Zoey appeared, suddenly and fully-formed, into another person's mind.

Ahead of her, Mel stumbled, then, considering her speed, tripped, shortly collapsing into a pile of gooey limbs. She turned, scooting back on her butt, looking at Zoey with wide eyes.

Zoey, for her part, spun in a circle, appraising her surroundings. Empty stone hallways met her—nothing threatening. She eyed the corners, tense and ready to fight, but nothing appeared. Mel panted behind her, breathing labored from her run.

Once she was sure nothing was actually coming for them, she turned to Mel.

Kali had known instantly that Zoey was real, and that she'd been in a dream—a strange quirk of however the dream-world, or Zoey's presence in it, worked. Would Mel know she was dreaming, now, too? And that Zoey was real?

Mel's panic did seem to be fading by the second, slowly being replaced by incredulity. She gawked up at Zoey, green lips parted in shock.

"Zoey?!"

"Uh," Zoey said. "Hi, Mel?"

Mel scrambled to her feet. She peeked over Zoey's shoulder, which caused Zoey to, with some alarm, do the same, but again, she saw nothing.

"Huh," Mel said. "I was just dreaming." She shivered in an exaggerated way. It made her green-goo body jiggle. Though she had the curves of a human, her body didn't react like it was made of skin. She … bounced a lot.

Mel studied Zoey, then beamed and rushed forward.

Five-foot something of goo-girl impacted Zoey, and Zoey, startled, caught the girl who had hurled herself forward. The momentum made Zoey take a few steps back to steady herself. Mel's sticky skin pressed into her, dampening her clothes—which Zoey realized she'd spawned in with, unlike with Ephy.

"It's so nice to see you!" Mel gushed. "You're real! I can tell. That's so weird. How are you here?"

Mel's joy at seeing her was flattering, and, less importantly, the press of her gooey curves were highly distracting. But Zoey had come here on a mission, and so, rather than returning the niceties, she addressed it.

"Are you safe?" Zoey asked. "What happened? What were you running from?"

"Safe?" Mel pulled back, still supported in the air by Zoey's arms, and blinked up at her. A grave expression crossed her face, as if she'd just been reminded. She let herself be put down, holding Zoey's eyes with a sudden bout of seriousness. "No. Not at all. Someone's eating me, and not in the fun way."

"I'm sorry?"

"I have no idea what it is," Mel said, "but it's dangerous. Like nothing I've ever seen, and I can't do anything to stop it."

Well. That confirmed Mel was the person Ephy want Zoey to go see. She doubted it was a coincidence.

"Back up," Zoey said. She glanced over her shoulder one more time. "What is 'it'? And is it here?"

"Here?" Mel said. "This is my dream." She poked Zoey on the arm. "Don't be silly, silly."

Zoey didn't think enemies invading dreams would be the weirdest thing she'd heard of in this world, seeing how she could, but she didn't point that out. Mel seemed confident whatever she'd be running from had been a dream, and Zoey took that at face value.

"But an explanation," Zoey prompted. "Start from the beginning."

Mel nodded, her dark green slime-hair bouncing. "Okay. But first," she said seriously, "you need to get those pants off. Like, right now."

Chapter 103

Chapter Text

"My … pants? Why?"

Mel dropped to her knees, fingers going to Zoey's belt. Deftly, she popped the buckle open, her button next, then forcibly tugged Zoey's pants down. Her underwear followed, revealing a long, still-soft girl cock, which Mel grabbed.

"Why?" Mel asked. "Because I missed her, obviously." She slapped herself across the face with Zoey's member, then laughed. "She's so perfect. And big! I'm such a lucky slime. I thought I'd seen the last of her.

"Don't we have more important things to be doing? Talking about?" Her cock quickly stiffened in Mel's grip, and at seeing the curvy slime girl on her knees, staring with admiration.

"First off," Mel said. "There's nothing more important than getting your fat cock inside me as soon as possible, so get that straight."

"Uh," Zoey said.

"But yeah," Mel said. "We have other things to talk about, too. But who says it can't happen while having fun?"

"I mean this politely," Zoey said, watching gooey green fingers stroke up and down her cock, bringing it to full mast, "but I think you have your priorities mixed up. You're in danger, right?"

"I'm in danger," Mel said, "of cock withdrawal." Mel kissed Zoey's dick, then said firmly, "And since the perfect medicine arrived, I intend to take it." Soft, wet lips enveloped Zoey's tip, and a sticky tongue stroked along ridges, sucking gently. "The other stuff is way less important," she mumbled past Zoey's cock.

"I don't think that's true."

"Totally is."

"And I don't think this is the best position to 'have fun and talk'," Zoey gasped, shivering under the pleasurable assault. "Like you implied."

Mel paused, Zoey's cock still in her mouth. She pouted up at her. Zoey almost reached out and urged the slimegirl on, shoving her head down and really getting to it.

Separating with a pop, Mel said, "Yeah. That's fair. Hard to talk with my mouth full." She stood, then grabbed the hem of Zoey's shirt. Zoey allowed her to tug it up and off. Sticky green breasts pressed into her own, and Mel expertly stripped Zoey's bra, next. She squeezed Zoey's tits, then pinched her nipples. "Gods, you're so gorgeous. I'm so glad you're here."

"I came to help you," Zoey accused—though Mel's eagerness was quickly fraying her willpower. She grabbed Mel by the shoulders and stared firmly at her. "Danger first. Cock second."

It was a rather absurd sentence. So was the way Mel pouted at it.

"Like I said," Mel said. "There's something eating me. An invader. It looks human, but isn't."

Mel got down on the ground, then turned and laid on her stomach. Turning to face Zoey, she slapped her ass, making it jiggle. She jutted it up, arching her back, then she shook her lower half, waggling her ass toward Zoey.

"Get that cock in me, and I'll tell you more," Mel said.

Zoey stared at the expectant slimegirl laying on the floor.

Well. If this was the fastest way to get the information she needed, who was she to say no? Even if Mel wasn't acting in her own best interest by not taking this seriously.

Zoey got down behind Mel, gripping her cock. With her other hand, she pulled Mel's left ass cheek, spreading the sticky goo-girl wide. Two holes presented themselves. She rubbed a thumb against Mel's backdoor, then wiggled it in. Her sticky body acted as natural lubricant. Mel gasped in pleasure, then shook her butt a second time.

"Your cock! Not your finger! It's seriously been too long. I want it inside now."

Zoey obliged. She lined her tip up to Mel's less-used entrance, then pressed forward, watching the gooey opening spread open and swallow her cock. Mel gasped as she was split apart by Zoey's rod.

"Fuck. So big. Almost forgot."

Inch by inch, Zoey stuffed Mel full, until her cock tip floated all the way up near the bottom of her breasts, suspended in green gelatin. Sighing in satisfaction, Zoey bent over the slimegirl, pressing her pelvis in Mel's ass, and laying atop her, breasts pressing into Mel's back.

Murmuring into Mel's ear, Zoey said, "I'll start moving when you start talking."

"So mean," Mel complained, wiggling her ass against Zoey, stirring her cock around. The sensation of tight, gooey walls caressing her cock almost wiped away her willpower, but Zoey mastered herself. Seeing her efforts fail, Mel huffed, straining as she turned her head to meet Zoey's eyes. "Fine. So. I've been watching her for about a day, now. Or it. I'm really not sure what to call her."

"You said she has a human form?"

Fulfilling her promise, Zoey rested on her elbows, then lifted her hips up, sliding her cock out of Mel's gooey asshole, so only the tip was inside. She rested in that position, waiting for more—promising silently to slap down when Mel gave a response.

"Looks human, but definitely isn't," Mel said, hips wiggling side to side, massaging Zoey's tip. "She feeds on magic. As in, structured magic. Of the shard. My essence."

Zoey slapped down, hard, burying fourteen inches of girl dick in a powerful stroke. She hit with a loud impact, Mel's entire body jiggling, and Mel cried out, pressing her forehead into the stone floor.

"Your essence?" Zoey asked.

"The shards. Mine. It's all the same," Mel gasped. "Keep going. Fuck me. I'm talking, aren't I? Stop being so mean!"

Zoey worked into a slow rhythm. Mel would get more when Zoey was satisfied with her explanations. She suspected if she got too into it, productive discussions would stop.

"You and the shard are the same?"

"Mostly," Mel said. "It's my domain, and it is me. Or … I'm its master. It's hard to describe. But the point is, something's invaded. Not a person—or not one like us."

Us? Zoey hadn't been entirely sure what Mel was, but, she supposed, doubting whether she was a person was ridiculous—even demeaning. Maybe she had been … created? … but she clearly was intelligent and had a personality. Artificial or not, she was a person.

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"No clue." Mel shivered as Zoey's cock slowly buried into her, then withdrew. She thrusted her ass upward into Zoey, urging her to go faster, but Zoey kept the gentle, teasing pace. "But she's breaking down parts of the shard. Eating items, constructs, spells. The parts that keep me functioning."

"But you're fine?"

"For now," Mel said. "It's almost like she's targeting less important parts. But it's still messing with my balance. I'm a delicate creation." Mel groaned. "A delicate creation that really wants you to go faster. Stop teasing!" She emphasized with another jerk of her hips, slapping her ass into Zoey's pelvis and burying her cock deep.

Zoey obliged, but not entirely. She picked up the pace, leaning up and grabbing Mel's ass with both hands as she thrust slowly in and out. "What can I do? If I come to you, is there any way I can help?"

"I think so," Mel said. "She's interested in the lewder parts of my shard. The parts where your influence lingers."

"My influence?"

"The carnal energies you brought."

Zoey digested that. It was hard to think critically with Mel's slimy asshole squeezing her cock, and the eager girl squirming beneath her and moaning.

She already knew her presence changed shards, but she'd thought that was just how shards worked. It sounded like her essence—almost certainly Ephy's, to be more accurate—modified them in ways not typical to how they functioned. Though maybe that was obvious in retrospect. Rosalie and Delta had never heard of anything like the shards they had entered.

"Why?" Zoey asked.

"Why what?"

"Is she interested in the lewder parts?"

"Who wouldn't be?" Mel moaned. "But it's not just because it's fun. It's more potent."

"Potent?"

"Your class. The weight behind it. Hey, flip me around." Mel twisted, and Zoey adjusted to help her. Shortly, the slimegirl was laid out, facing upward, with Zoey's cock still buried in her asshole. Mel rubbed at her pussy as Zoey gripped her thighs and pushed in and out in gentle thrusts. "Gods," Mel groaned. "I love your cock so much. I've been thinking about it since you left. I'm so addicted."

Zoey blushed. Said with such a genuine tone, it was a compromising statement.

"Watch this," Mel said, leaning forward and gripping Zoey's shaft. "Time to … swap." She pulled upward, and Zoey groaned at the sudden pressure. She watched as her cock popped into Mel's pussy, taking a shortcut. Mel had pulled her from one hole to another, straight through her goo-like body. Now, Zoey's cock was pressed in by tight pussy walls.

The pleasure, and eroticism of the sight, eroded her defenses. Zoey grunted as she pushed Mel down and readjusted—then started pumping earnestly. Mel tugged Zoey in and kissed her, and Zoey basked in her fresh, citrusy taste. Her body bounced as Zoey's hips slammed into her.

Gasping, Zoey pulled back, but only after indulging in Mel's saliva for several long moments.

"You're distracting us," Zoey forced out. She didn't stop pumping into Mel's pussy, but she did corral her thoughts back. "We might not have much time. You need me to come help?"

"There's nothing I can do alone," Mel said. Begging goo-eyes met her own, and Zoey didn't think she was pleading for help, but Zoey's sticky load. This slime was a complete succubus. "I think you can bait her out, somehow. She's interested in your aspect, because of its potency. That was my point. So if you come in person, we can do something. Though I'm not entirely sure what. I'll plan. How long will it take?"

"At least a day," Zoey said. "Maybe more? I'm not sure. Rosalie would know." She'd been the one to find Mel's shard naturally; Zoey had been transported there by Ephy. "Will you be fine?"

"I can survive a day or two," Mel said. "But I might be on the fritz, by then. She's messing with delicate systems. Ones I don't fully understand."

"I'll come as fast as I can."

"As thanks," Mel gasped, "I'll let you do that really gross thing you wanted, our first meeting."

"Gross thing?"

"Having it inside my head is really weird," Mel said, "but for you, I'll make an exception."

"I-I never asked for that."

"You thought it," Mel said. "And, gods, when it comes to this cock, I'll let you put it anywhere." Her body started to shake. "Fuck. I'm close. Cum with me? Fill me up."

Zoey adjusted, getting into a kneeling position, lifting Mel's lower half with her, so that Mel's head was on the floor but her hips still met Zoey's in the air. Zoey pumped desperately, watching her cock slide in and out of her translucent gelatin body. Mel felt so different from other girls. In an amazing way.

Zoey shuddered. "Here I come." Her partner was already shaking in her grip, squeezing her tits as orgasm wracked her. Zoey moaned and slapped one last time into her, cock convulsing.

Hot white strands spurted into Mel's stomach, filling up the green goo and floating there, suspended. The bizarre sight worked out Zoey's load, and by the time she was done, a nearly comical amount of white strings mixed around Mel's gooey interior.

"So amazing …" Mel said, slumping down in exhaustion. "Can't wait until you're here in person. We'll have so much fun."

The dream fuzzed, and Zoey—even through her post-orgasm exhaustion—looked around, alarmed. She hadn't know the dream would end when she came.

"Maybe you can share me with that cute blonde of yours," Mel said. "I can't believe she wanted to fight the boring way, the first time. Make sure you convince her." She sighed contentedly. "Bye, now … and make sure you hurry. If I die, it means I can't have that amazing cock of yours again. I'll be so upset."

Zoey would have replied, but the dream darkened, then went black.

Chapter 104

Chapter Text

Rosalie swung open their room's front door, rolling her shoulders as she walked in, working out sore muscles. Today had been a good day. She'd made progress with her newest skill, and had driven herself into the ground—her entire body ached in that comfortable, if painful, way of a training session properly seen through.

She noted Zoey's shoes set aside at the doorway, then frowned, because she hadn't called out to greet Rosalie, as she usually would've.

"Zoey? I'm back."

She tossed her room key back into her inventory, eying how Zoey had left hers out on the hallway side table. It wasn't unusual to not use your inventory for everything, since in many public spaces, doing so was banned—to prevent theft, primarily—and habits built before receiving one's class could be difficult to kick, but Zoey especially seemed to disregard her inventory to an unusual level. It was far from the oddest habit of hers, but Rosalie still noted it.

Walking into the bedroom, frown deepening at the continued lack of response, Rosalie discovered the reason why. She froze at the sight awaiting her. Not that she should have. Considering her perverted girlfriend—girlfriend? When would that word stop making her flush?—the position she found Zoey in shouldn't have made her pause. It was downright expected, even.

Laying across the bed, head propped up on a pillow, but fully dressed and on top of the covers, Zoey snoozed. That wasn't the surprising part. It was the outrageous bulge in her pants, and the way she squirmed side to side, mumbling in unmistakable noises of pleasure. Her face was red; whatever dream she was experiencing, she was having fun with it.

Rosalie's own cheeks heated at the sight, and something in her stomach clenched, heart rate picking up.

Something was odd about this, though. Taking a mid-day nap? That wasn't something Zoey usually did. And … that paper on the night stand. A note?

Walking over, Rosalie picked up the paper and scanned it.

Ah.

Testing that dream potion she'd made. Well, it was clearly working. Specifically, in the way Zoey had expected it to. An indulgent fantasy, not a mundane one.

Rosalie huffed, flicking the paper back on the nightstand. She crossed her arms and glared at the dark-haired woman laid across their bed. How could a single person be so insatiable? If she'd asked, Rosalie could have taken care of her. And that way, her own pesky urges could've been solved. Pesky urges which were decidedly produced by Zoey. Rosalie hadn't had nearly as many problems managing her libido before Zoey had entered her life.

"Ridiculous," Rosalie said firmly.

At the lack of response, Rosalie glared harder. Then, shaking her head, she uncrossed her arms and sat on the edge of the bed.

She observed Zoey closer. Her girlfriend was really having a fun time. Her breath came fast and shallow, and her hips squirmed side to side. Slowly, and only in muted motions, being firmly asleep, but still noticeable. The sight had Rosalie's face burning.

Her girlfriend was having a wet dream. What, specifically, was she doing? Or who?

And how asleep was she? Rosalie pursed her lips. She got the feeling that potion-induced unconsciousness wouldn't be as easy to stir her from as its natural counterpart.

Rosalie poked Zoey's ankle. Seated on the end of the bed, it was the part closest to her. Zoey didn't react. She continued making breathless noises and wiggling.

Rosalie eyed the bulge. It strained against her pants, lifting them a ridiculous distance. With its size, it couldn't even stick straight up; it poked down toward her knee, bending fabric upward in a tent.

"Disgusting," Rosalie said.

She scooted up the bed.

A dark spot gathered near the tip, her girlfriend's precum dampening the fabric. Zoey's shaft made a clear outline in her pants, and so did the ridges of her cock tip. Everything about Zoey was so excessive. Her cock, her output … and the even grosser parts, too. The nauseating compliments and how she doted over Rosalie, always putting her first.

"Obscene," Rosalie declared, poking Zoey's tip through her pants. "You realize if you finish, you're drenching our bed? Of course you don't." She huffed. "No foresight. You should've put a towel down."

Rosalie's heart skipped at the idea. Zoey, finishing in her pants. Emptying that ridiculous sticky load of hers straight into her clothing.

Why did that excite her?

Why did Rosalie want to watch it happen?

"You are so gross," Rosalie growled, and this time, she wasn't sure which of them she directed it at.

For a while longer, she alternated between glaring at Zoey's face and her cock. Then she sighed, and scooted closer.

"That can't be comfortable," she mumbled. Blushing, she placed a hand on Zoey's shaft. It pulsed heat into her hand, even through the fabric. Zoey let out a little moan, and Rosalie jumped. But Zoey didn't wake. For all Rosalie knew, she'd been reacting to whatever happened in her dream. She was well and truly out; even Rosalie's hand hadn't stirred her.

"Let's get you situated."

With some finagling, she had Zoey's cock not sticking so uncomfortably up, straining into her pants. Still hard, it kept struggling against its confines, but now pointed more down toward her knee, a less cramped position.

"Take this, too."

She pulled out a towel from her inventory, then situated it beneath Zoey's leg. Then, thinking about it for a second, she pulled out a second, folded it, and added it to the first. When that oversized thing finally erupted, it would make a horrendous mess. Rosalie knew that first hand. Even two folded towels and Zoey's pants might not soak it all up.

For a while, she watched her girlfriend squirm, a new darkspot appearing near Zoey's knee as precum dribbled from the stimulated member.

"I guess I should help you along, too," Rosalie suddenly said. She blushed and looked around the room, but she was obviously alone. "Because you need some physical help. It's my duty as your girlfriend."

And not because she wanted to see Zoey empty herself into her pants.

That really shouldn't excite her.

And it didn't. She was just fulfilling her role as this gross woman's girlfriend.

So there.

She placed a hand on Zoey's cock, savoring the pulsing heat against her hand, and the way it twitched. Rosalie moaned as her other hand rubbed a tight circle against her core. She froze, then glared down at the invader in her pants.

She'd started rubbing herself without even meaning to.

"This is your fault," Rosalie accused. "Two weeks ago, I wasn't half as needy."

Zoey squirmed, eyes closed, oblivious to Rosalie's chiding.

Face burning, Rosalie climbed on top of her girlfriend's leg. Zoey's cock burned against her pussy, even through many layers of clothing, and provided a wonderful pressure against her core. She wiggled Zoey's cock better into position, so it laid flat against her leg, then, with it in place, perched on top of the edge of the shaft.

Dry humping Zoey's cock while she was sleeping. Trying to make her cum in her pants. While getting herself off at the same time.

Just … her duty as a girlfriend.

Rosalie sighed, shivering, as she rubbed herself up and down Zoey's thick cock. She made long strokes. Obviously, with both of them fully clothed, it wasn't as physically stimulating as some of their encounters, but it was still amazing. The pervertedness of the act made up the difference. Rosalie was panting and shaking in less than a minute. She watched the dark stain growing bit by bit near the tip of Zoey's cock, fascinated and anticipatory.

She glanced over her shoulder, back at Zoey, who still hadn't woken. Even humping her cock, she stayed firmly asleep. Almost impressive.

And by how her moans had grown louder, she was getting close.

"Go ahead," Rosalie murmured, her own hips picking up speed. "Let go. Finish in your pants, you little pervert." She scooted higher up, rubbing her pussy into Zoey's cock tip. "I'll even help you," she groaned. "You can get my shorts all sticky and gross, too. Coat us. I want your hot cum rubbing into my pussy. Please?"

As if obliging her, Zoey started panting in quick little gasps, hips wiggling, providing more pressure against her pussy. Rosalie felt Zoey's cock swell. She rubbed even more frantically, head dizzy with excitement.

"Come on. Do it."

Sticky warmth flooded Zoey's pants, and Rosalie looked down between their lower halves, watching Zoey's pants turn dark. With Rosalie's pussy coaxing her cock tip, right against the member she was milking out, the material shot straight into her own shorts and turned them dark, too. Rosalie came apart at the squishy sensation soaking into her panties. Zoey's cum. She was soaking her shorts and panties with her girlfriend's cum, rubbing against her to milk it out.

She fell forward, humping desperately, moaning as her body shook and the sticky warmth spread. So much. Zoey's thick shaft rubbed into her pussy between layers of clothing, urging out the white-hot bliss of orgasm. Behind her, Zoey moaned her own pleasure—still muted, caught in a dream, but louder than before.

When Rosalie's twitching finish left her, she leaned up, panting, and appraised the damage.

As expected, Zoey's pants were a mess. From knee to lower thigh, the entire fabric was dark and sticky with her cum. Rosalie's own shorts were even worse; rubbing herself all over an actively cumming cock had left more of the material in her own shorts than Zoey's pants, probably.

Beyond that, the towel was drenched, the impressive load dribbling down Zoey's knee. Some might have made it all the way to the sheets. Honestly, it wouldn't be the first time. It wasn't like they'd avoided it in the past.

And Zoey was still asleep. Probably for the best.

Rosalie stared disbelievingly down at herself. What was wrong with her? Why had she done that?

Face burning, she climbed off Zoey and scurried to get changed.

That decidedly had never happened. She intended to never speak of it, and with Zoey asleep, the secret would never get out. Thank the heavens for that. Just, why had it been so exciting?

Chapter 105

Chapter Text

Zoey woke to an unfortunate mess.

A blonde woman glared at her, arms crossed, blue eyes like daggers.

"I put towels down for you," Rosalie huffed, "but you really like to pump it out, so it only did so much. Do you have any consideration? We've ruined our bedsheets enough as is."

Zoey sat up in bed, blinking in disorientation. She looked down at herself. She'd really made a mess of her pants. She wasn't embarrassed half as easily as Rosalie was, but having a wet dream—and her girlfriend apparently watching it happen—was something that had her face burning.

"Sorry," Zoey said. "Yeah. I guess I didn't think that through." She'd expected what sorts of dreams she'd be getting, so she should have made better preparations.

"Clearly."

"Enjoy the show, at least?"

Rosalie's face turned crimson, and she started sputtering. "What show? You think I watched you?"

She definitely had. That removed some of Zoey's embarrassment, though filling her pants up with cum was … still awkward. At least her deviant girlfriend had had fun with it.

"I'll, uh, get cleaned," Zoey said. "And then we need to talk."

"Talk?"

"I learned some stuff during my expedition." She shook her head. "I think our vacation's gonna cut short."

That caught Rosalie's attention, for all her blushing and glaring. She sensed the gravity behind Zoey's words. "In your dream?"

For the first time, Zoey paused.

What had happened in the dream world had been real, right? Not actually a dream?

She hadn't imagined all of that?

Zoey supposed it was a non-zero chance she had. At the same time, the consequences of believing that, then the events being real, far outweighed the waste of rushing to Mel's shard and checking on her. Even if fake, Zoey wouldn't be able to rest until she confirmed it for certain.

"In my dream," Zoey said. "Yeah. But I'm pretty sure it wasn't a dream in the usual sense." She stood, awkwardly clutching the towel to her leg as she did. Cum dripped down her leg, and Zoey cursed as she tried to stop it from getting into the carpets. "Why do I have to make so much of a mess?" she growled. "Where does it even come from?"

"That's what I'm saying," Rosalie said simply, seeming, for some reason, vindicated by Zoey's complaints.

She shuffled off to the bathroom, then sighed and dumped the towels. After stripping her pants, she turned on the shower and waited for it to warm. With a wrinkled nose, she looked down at the cum coating her leg. Her pants were probably ruined.

"If you saw I forgot to take my pants off," Zoey said, "couldn't you have done that for me, too? You put towels down."

"So this is my fault?"

Zoey rolled her eyes. "Let me guess. You just wanted to see it happen. Who gets off on watching their girlfriend have a wet dream into her pants?"

The sputtering said Zoey had hit the nail on the head—devastatingly so—not that she'd had any doubt about it.

"Wanna join me?" Zoey asked, stepping into the shower. "But we really do have to talk. So don't seduce me."

"You seduce me," Rosalie growled. "Not that other way around."

"Lies," Zoey said. "You don't get to walk around with a body like that and pretend it's my fault when I touch it. Stop being so fuckable, and I won't."

Rosalie made a noise of protest, but the blush and the way she glanced away showed that she'd enjoyed the crude words. Like usual.

She stripped, and Zoey wrapped her arms around her stomach as she stepped into the shower with her. Hot water poured between them, washing away the mess Zoey had made, and her cock pressed against Rosalie's naked leg. It was, to say the least, tempting to ignore her previous words, but considering the dire circumstances, they really needed to get clean then get going.

Zoey slid a hand down Rosalie's stomach, cupping her pussy and pressing firmly. "Bet you're all worked up, aren't you?" she whispered into her ear. "Maybe we can spare a quick one. Promise to cum fast?"

Well. Zoey couldn't really be blamed. Blushing and protesting, Rosalie was, as she'd said a second earlier, just way too fuckable.

Zoey took her apart efficiently. Rosalie's hair trigger came in handy, sometimes.

That unproductive event taken care of, Zoey declared, "I said not to seduce me. You're such a distraction."

"I-Insufferable," the still-shaking blonde said. "What happened in your dream? Tell me."

After getting herself cleaned—and making sure to help rub soap into Rosalie in a liberal manner, pinching and playing with her nipples—they stepped from the shower, and Zoey finally explained.

For her to really understand, Zoey had to start from the beginning. And given permission by Ephy, the discussion that had been a long time coming finally took place.

"So," Zoey said. "I'm not sure where to begin with all this. And it's going to be really outlandish. As in, I want you to know I'm being completely serious, but I expect you'll have a hard time believing me. I won't be offended."

Well, maybe she would be, a little bit. More likely than thinking that she was lying, though, Rosalie would just think Zoey had moderate to severe brain damage, and the delusions that came with it.

And, Christ, she did have brain damage, for a sense of the phrase. Ephy had scooped out her memories. Didn't build the greatest case for believability, not remembering the names of your parents.

"That's quite the preface," Rosalie said. "But when it comes to you, I'm willing to believe just about anything."

Zoey looked at her, amused. "And what does that mean?"

"That you are, by far, the strangest woman I've ever met. And how you ended up in the shard with me? Your circumstances in general?"

Zoey pursed her lips. She supposed all the oddities did provide support for what she was about to say.

Still. How was a girl supposed to just explain she was from another planet? Or, god, another dimension, really. Or reality, whatever the term was.

"I'm an alien," Zoey said. Then, laughing, she said, "Okay, no, I said I'd be serious. But technically, I might be?" She sobered up. Now wasn't the time to be making jokes, however much the absurdity of the situation had brought it out. "Sorry. Uh. Are 'other worlds' something normal, here?"

Rosalie, understandably, stared at her.

"I didn't tell you because my patron suggested that I shouldn't. And I wasn't sure whether it was a suggestion or an order. You've called me reckless, but even I didn't think upsetting a divine being the smartest thing to do. But I recently got the go-ahead, so, now we're talking about it."

Er. Assuming Ephy hadn't been a fragment of Zoey's imagination, and the dream sequences had been real, not inventions of her mind. That would be a rather unfortunate series of events leading to a divine smiting.

Rosalie continued to stare.

"Anyway," Zoey said. "Are they? Other worlds, common? Something you know of?"

"You're saying you're from one?"

Zoey shrugged. Not because she was playing coy about it, but because she was agreeing with Rosalie's incredulity. A shrug that meant, 'yeah, pretty insane, isn't it'?

"I half-way figured since this entire place is a bunch of linked pocket-worlds," Zoey said, "that maybe it'd sound a little less crazy?"

Plus all the magic. She didn't think this reveal would be easy to digest, but heapings of magic and already living in a universe comprised of miniature worlds stitched together would make Zoey's claims go down easier than if she'd tried to sell it to a resident of Earth. Or that was the hope, at least.

"Patron," Rosalie said. "Who?"

That she wasn't dismissing Zoey outright was a good sign. Though, by her expression, she was hardly accepting it without question, either.

"Ephythithys," Zoey said. "She says Ephy is fine. But she said she's not your world's goddess, so I don't think you know her?"

"Ephythithys," Rosalie repeated, expression turning from careful and incredulous to flat. "Your patron is the goddess of fertility and lust."

Zoey paused. So Rosalie's world did have a name for Ephy? The details behind how gods and goddesses worked across worlds were unclear.

"I mean," Zoey said. "Considering my class and abilities … it makes sense, right?"

Rosalie only seemed exasperated. "It would, yes." She rubbed her forehead. "Your patron? Start from the beginning."

They'd broached the hardest part—Zoey's origins and her entanglement with Ephy. She didn't know if Rosalie believed her, but getting started was the hard part.

Now came detailed explanations, and hopefully, convincing her that she wasn't insane.

And, after that, how they needed to go and rescue Mel.

Zoey took a breath in, then hunkered down for a long, ridiculous conversation.

Chapter 106

Chapter Text

Zoey started from the beginning. There wasn't much to go over. The difficulty of the conversation came from the sheer outlandishness, not the quantity of content.

She laid it out in quick, practical terms. Her first meeting with Ephy, her transportation to the shard, then today, the new discoveries: more about the 'threat', Mel, and briefly how Zoey had been purposefully arranged to meet Rosalie.

That last part made Rosalie go quiet. It danced around her past, whatever it was, and made it clear Zoey knew something was going on. Though Ephy's intervention had hardly been what gave that away. Rather, Rosalie's behavior itself had. Even Delta had picked it up—though what 'it' meant specifically eluded them.

Zoey didn't expect any explanation—not today, at least—and Rosalie didn't provide one, though she seemed hesitant, as if warring briefly with herself over whether she should. But they had more pressings topics to go over, so they silently put it to the side.

When Zoey was done, she sat back and waited, concerned, for how Rosalie would respond.

For a few moments, she chewed over the topic. Finally, she said, "It does explain a lot."

"You believe me, then?"

Piercing blue eyes scrutinized her, a frown tugging the edges of her lips. "Of course I believe you. There's too much supporting evidence. Your runes alone might have sold it."

Zoey relaxed. That this wouldn't end up with her girlfriend thinking she was crazy came as a surprisingly large relief. She'd been prepared to navigate that result, but that she didn't have to was obviously preferable.

"Okay. Good. I'm glad."

"Another world, though," Rosalie said. "Not just a splinter, but separated entirely from the rest. It's hard to take in."

"At least I remember most of it," Zoey said. "The memory scrambling was mostly personal stuff, not general knowledge."

Rosalie frowned. "And I'm not pleased about that, either. Or your involvement with a goddess. That's troubling. Dangerous."

"The world's apparently ending, so compared to that …" Zoey shrugged. "Plus, we should be happy we have an ally."

"But why her?"

"The goddess of sex? Good question."

Why not any of the others? For that matter, did they all exist? Ephy apparently had a place in this world's pantheon, but did that mean the entire pantheon was real? Zoey hesitated. Religion was, obviously, a touchy subject, and while Rosalie didn't come off as a pious person, questioning her on whether her gods were real could be a thorny conversation.

"Is there one named Ezariel?" Zoey asked. "In your pantheon?" That was the safe place to start.

"No. There isn't. I wanted to bring that up, too."

During Zoey's explanation, she'd simply gotten through all the reveals, rather than fielding questions. Now that the basics were in the open, they both had plenty of clarifications they wanted.

"But Ephy called this world his," Zoey said. "More than hers. And she's an actual goddess of yours, but he isn't?"

Rosalie's frown deepened. "You're asking me if the others are real, since Ephythithys," she pursed her lips, "Ephy, is apparently the only one looking to help."

"I guess."

"There are instances of members of the pantheon descending and intervening in mortal affairs," Rosalie said, "but, admittedly, I don't know the validity of such stories. And not many are recent. My father, at least—"

She stiffened, then continued. Zoey pretended not to notice the slip, though what it meant, exactly, she couldn't decipher.

"—hasn't interacted or heard of interactions with any divine beings. And he is," she paused, looking for how to put it, "rather informed compared to the typical person, so perhaps they really are stories. Or he never mentioned it to me. This simply isn't a topic I, or he, I suspect, spent significant time considering."

"I see," Zoey said. "Well, I suppose it's all irrelevant. Real or not, it sounds like we can't count on them. Or whoever Ezariel is. Ephy is the only one with halfway interest in helping."

"The question is why."

Zoey shrugged helplessly. "We've got bigger fish to fry. Fixing the problem in the first place."

"Moreover," Rosalie said dryly, "discovering what it even is."

"Whatever's hurting Mel is clearly part of it. So we need to get there as soon as possible. What's the travel time?"

"Even at a quick pace, a full day."

Zoey grimaced at that, but Rosalie hesitated.

"Though … with our recent advancements, and how we share a small percentage of our stats, now …" She considered. "Less. I'm not sure how much so. We could probably jog a good portion of the trip instead of walking it. Your stamina should be vastly improved from your advancement, and physical stats siphoned from us."

"But we'll make it in time, for sure," Zoey said, relieved at hearing it. Mel had said she could last a day or two, so while not overflowing with time, they weren't at risk of not making it.

"Yes. We will. But we should get going immediately. Besides, further discussions can happen as we walk. There won't be much else to do."

Zoey wasn't looking forward to another full-day hike through varying pocket-realms, but she didn't have much choice. She'd have liked their so-called vacation to have lived out properly, but the burgeoning end of the world had a tendency to throw wrenches in plans.

"That brings up an important point," Zoey said. "Delta. Maddy. What's the plan?"

"You want to tell them?"

"Delta, at least," Zoey said. "She deserves to know what she's getting into."

"She's getting into? I would figure there are others significantly more qualified to handle this. Whatever 'this' is."

Zoey paused. She supposed that was true. Why would she, Rosalie, and Delta be the ones tackling a world-ending threat?

"Assuming it can be handled through conventional means," Zoey pointed out. "Ephy might have chosen a champion deliberately."

Rosalie raised her eyebrows at her. "Are you suggesting you'll be fucking the threat into compliance, Zoey?"

"I-I'm just saying," Zoey said. "Not necessarily that. Just that there might not be better qualified people. Or maybe they're in on it, or something."

Rosalie's eyebrows went higher.

"Not that I'm saying they are," Zoey clarified. "Again. Just that Ephy picked a third party for a reason." She shrugged. "We'll play that by ear."

"Later," Rosalie agreed. "Delta." She sighed. "You can tell her. I believe she's trustworthy. And she's entangled with us, so yes, she deserves to know what's going on. I'm wondering if she'll believe us."

"If we find something at Mel's shard, that'll be proof, won't it?"

"I suppose it would." She wavered. "Of a sort, at least."

"And one more thing, before we get going. I wanted to talk about us."

"Us?"

"I've been meaning to for a bit, now," Zoey said. "We just keep getting sidetracked. But we're girlfriends now. And that means we should set down boundaries and expectations. Communication is important."

"… okay?" Rosalie asked. She seemed bewildered by the turn of events. And Zoey supposed it wasn't the most appropriate time to do this, following on the tail of all the craziness she'd just revealed, but she'd already been distracted from it more than once. This was something they needed to talk about.

It had primarily entered Zoey's mind because of Mel's earlier offer. That she wanted Zoey and Rosalie to 'take care of her' together, unlike their first encounter. Which brought up an important point they needed to hammer out—how their relationship worked in the concrete.

"The biggest thing," Zoey said, "is us actually defining us. What you're okay with, and what I'm okay with. Specifically, me sleeping with other girls doesn't bother you, right?"

The bewilderment grew. "I assure you," she said, "I'm more than capable of making what I want clear. I would have said something if it did."

Zoey believed that was true in some regards, but definitely not all. But when it came to Rosalie being fine with Zoey having multiple partners, she could tell Rosalie meant it. She'd known that before asking—but again, the point was to get it out in the open, explicitly.

"And the reverse," Zoey said. "I realize it's unfair, but …"

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "But you're possessive. Yes, I can tell."

Zoey winced at the phrasing, but she supposed it was a fair assessment. The typical dynamic leaned more toward polyamory in Rosalie's society, and so by their standards, Zoey was possessive. Even though plenty of people back home wouldn't have wanted to share to any degree, even in a threesome.

"To make it clear," Zoey said, "you can have fun with Delta, if you want. Or anyone in our group, I guess? Er. Not our adventuring group, but our romantic one, I mean. Which is only Delta, right now." Sort of. What Delta was to Zoey and Rosalie was pretty undefined. They were in the burgeoning stages of that relationship.

"Group?" Rosalie asked dryly. "You mean your growing harem?"

"Well." Harem might not be the perfect word. Rosalie and Delta certainly weren't in love, but they had something going on. But some sort of polycule centered on her specifically, Zoey guessed was close to true. Harem, lacking the perfect terminology. Put into words, it was making Zoey blush.

"And is there a difference between our 'romantic' group and our 'wayfaring' one?" Rosalie asked. "It seems to me there isn't. And won't be in the future, either."

A specific phrase of Ephy's bubbled up. 'While I highly approve of your determination to cum inside every friend you make …'

Zoey guessed there wasn't. And that probably wouldn't change as their party grew, either. Maddy seemed to be opening more and more to the idea.

She coughed, embarrassed.

"Well," Zoey said. "I mean, when Maddy joins, I wouldn't really call her part of our group, yet. Romantically speaking." Though she liked Maddy, the idea of Rosalie sleeping with her without Zoey being there was … not really something she would want. "It's just the idea of strangers I don't like. I wanted to clarify that."

Rosalie squeezed Zoey's hands. "Yes, I know. And I'm fine with that." She huffed. "Though it's a moot point. I have no interest in being with that irritating girl by myself, much less strangers. That encounter last night, mind you, was entirely for your entertainment."

Zoey raised an eyebrow, and Rosalie glared. Then she softened, cheeks turning pink.

"Mostly," she conceded. "But while she was … enjoyable … she would simply be too much of a headache to deal with on my own."

Zoey doubted Rosalie meant that, but she let her poor, emotionally repressed girlfriend retain her dignity.

"And strangers are fine to enjoy together," Zoey clarified. "Mel wasn't happy you didn't fight the fun way, the first time. You have a second shot to do it right, with me. Slimegirls are really something."

Contrary to what Zoey had expected, Rosalie seemed suddenly uncertain. She chewed her lip before replying, looking questioningly at her. "I'm not sure I want to, Zoey. I'm fine with you doing as you please, but being with just anyone … I'm not sure that's me."

Zoey blinked rapidly. "Well, of course that's fine, too," she said, feeling kind of stupid she hadn't expected the response. Rosalie was very much a pervert, but not in the same way as Zoey—she didn't seem like the kind of person looking for any opportunity to sleep around. She was more careful in who she wanted to be with.

"Not that it's a no, either," Rosalie said. "It's just … I don't know. Mel? Maybe."

"Of course. It's always your choice. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page."

"Then we are," Rosalie said. "But the world is in danger part?" she added dryly. "Delta and Maddy?"

Yeah. Back to that.

Chapter 107

Chapter Text

They set out from Treyhull within the hour.

Delta accepted their urgency with little explanation. They'd given her a promise that they'd fill her in during the trek, and she'd nodded, then hurried away to prepare.

Maddy, they left behind. Beyond not even being an official part of the team, Zoey didn't think it smart to push for her recruitment yet. Especially not during a mission even stranger than usual, returning to an old, low level shard and rescuing a boss monster from some unknown threat. An unknown threat linked to a potentially world-ending danger.

The sex stuff was enough. Better to let Maddy get use to that idea first, before broaching the apocalypse.

Zoey sent a messenger to fill Sabina in on the change of plans. She didn't like how their lessons were being interrupted, and without even getting to say bye in person, but the less delay before heading for Mel, the better. The slimegirl had said she would survive for a day or two, but each passing hour was 'damaging' her. So even if they could linger, they shouldn't.

And so, their group of three set off with as much expeditiousness as reasonable.

They walked fast. As in, a pace Zoey would have struggled to make on flat concrete, back before her transmigration. Now, the noticeable boons of her skills and advancement meant she made long, swift strides across rugged terrain, and even doing so for an extended time, she didn't find herself winded. She was still the slowest of the group, with Rosalie and Delta having physically-oriented classes, but they still made twice or better speed than their earlier trip.

While they walked—or walk-jogged, really—they filled Delta in.

The second time explaining such bizarre topics wasn't any easier. Delta had more difficulty accepting them. Rosalie, at least, had been with Zoey since the beginning, and seemed generally more predisposed toward believing the incredible—maybe something to do with her past. Delta didn't have those influencing factors.

Still, she didn't outright call Zoey a liar. But by the time she'd gotten everything out, Zoey got the feeling she didn't wholly believe the craziness, either. Somewhere in the middle. Halfway believing, halfway not. With luck, proof would be provided during this expedition of theirs.

As the hours ticked by and landscape shifted, fatigue creeped in, but stamina potions fended it off, as well as determination to make it to Mel with time to spare.

Evening arrived, then twilight, then dusk, and they kept walking. A few monsters slowed them down, but only briefly. The violent creatures were weaker outside of shards, and their squad much stronger than a typical one.

They set up camp deep into the night and woke before the sun rose. They would've hiked straight through, but they didn't know what awaited them at Mel's shard, and being exhausted—from lack of sleep more than physically so—could be unwise. A satiating eight-hours was obviously off the table, but four or five put them in good enough condition to feel comfortable tackling the shard, which they arrived to after another several hours of trailblazing.

Without ceremony, because there wasn't much to say, they dove into the inky black portal.

Thankfully, that same entrance coffin she and Rosalie had first been trapped in had been cleaned out for their re-entry. Not so thankfully, it had been fully reconstructed, too. And instead of two girls being crammed in the space, there was three.

Then again … being smooshed in by two naked girls—yes, the shard had taken their armor again—was hardly some fate worth lamenting.

"This again?" Rosalie growled. "Of course. What did I expect?"

"The hell?" Delta asked, shuffling around, bumping all of them together. "Where are we? And—ow! Watch the elbows, blondie!"

"You're on top," Rosalie said. "Break us out. I can't get the proper leverage."

At the bottom of the stack, with her back pressed into the coffin floor, Zoey squirmed around. There wasn't much she could do to help.

And, of course, having her girlfriend's naked body piled on top, rubbing her, Zoey's lower half responded in the way she'd expect.

"Are you getting hard?" Rosalie hissed.

"I don't think I can be blamed for that," Zoey said simply, her member swelling and squeezing between their stomachs—a reminder to how this entire adventure had begun, and twice as exciting for that fact.

"How come you get to be in the middle?" Delta complained. "I always get the short stick. And—seriously, where the hell are we? How do I get us out?"

"It's a coffin," Rosalie said. "Same thing happened last time. Just brace against the floor and pop the lid off."

"You started like this?" Delta asked. "Damn. That had to have been an introduction and a half. Some girls get all the luck."

"I don't know if that's what I'd call it," Rosalie ground out. Then she paused, looking at Zoey, something Zoey could only barely make out in the near pitch blackness. "Not that—you were—you know what I mean."

Zoey just laughed. This situation, as most of her life, was too ridiculous to form a real response to.

Then she groaned, Delta's continued repositioning pushing Rosalie down, and rubbing her girlfriend's tight stomach against her cock. It slid against Rosalie's bumpy abs, and Zoey decided it had been too long since she'd played with those.

"Are you humping?"

Zoey's hips had started moving without her input. She stilled. "Uh. Sorry."

"Think … I've got it …" Delta said. "Help push, blondie."

With some grunts of exertion, and some more positioning of limbs and bracing—which Zoey's cock enjoyed very much—the wooden lid tore upward, nails ripping out. Delta clambered out first, followed by Rosalie, then Zoey last.

Last time, it had taken Zoey's Bolster ability to break them out, but even the base strength of Rosalie and Delta could handle it, now. Probably Rosalie alone could have, if it'd just been the two of them, and she hadn't been smooshed in the middle.

The orange-haired foxgirl stretched, and Zoey tried not to stare at her muscles. While both Rosalie and Delta were much more lean than bulky, they still looked the role of adventurer. Even Zoey did, thanks to Ephy's blessing. It was an aesthetic she very much appreciated. Even more so than usual, worked up from how Rosalie's abs had been caressing her in a very indulgent way, not a moment ago.

Delta turned around, looked at Zoey's cock—standing at full fourteen inch attention—then whistled.

"I forget every time," Delta said. "Honestly, only a goddess could have given you that thing. So that part checks out, at least."

Rosalie gave Zoey an unimpressed look, but only after her eyes lingered between her legs, too. The disapproval was more from being hard in the first place. Though, seriously, Zoey didn't think she was at fault for that.

She cleared her throat and shifted from foot to foot. As titillating as their brief capture had been, now wasn't the time to be doing—well, anything.

Even if Rosalie's abs were twice as enticing as usual.

"Okay," Delta said. "Naked and weaponless, once again." She paused, then smirked and gave Zoey's cock a pointed look. "Well, two of us are. How come the dungeon lets you keep your spear?"

"Ha-ha," Zoey said. "What're we doing? What's the plan?" With a mental inspection of her inventory, she said, "and it took our other stuff, too. Even our lewd equipment." The second shard—Not-Zoey's—had let them keep that. This time, they were starting the adventure truly bare.

"Two third advancements and a single second," Delta said, "against a tier one shard. Yeah. Don't think a 'plan' is super important. Can cut straight through." She wrinkled her nose, then turned and narrowed her eyes at Zoey. Her fluffy orange tail swished behind her. "You know, speaking of advancements, I'm still mad you passed me. How'd that happen?"

"Divine intervention," Zoey said. "Literally." By all meanings of fair, Zoey shouldn't be higher advancement than Delta. It was just wrong. With luck, she'd get her own level-up shortly, putting them all on the same rank.

"Weakest in the group," Delta muttered. "Seriously. What's up with that?"

"I doubt you're the weakest. I'd still lose against you." The bonuses gained through progressions were significant, but Delta was a woman competent enough to have met Rosalie's standards—which, from what Zoey knew, meant she was one of the best wayfarers in the city of Treyhull.

Delta considered that, then shrugged. "Yeah. Probably. Having heavy weaponry helps, but knowing how to use it is more important." She smirked and flicked her eyes down to Zoey's crotch, making the innuendo clear. Not that Zoey had missed it.

"So in this metaphor," Zoey said, "you're the one wielding tiny weapons, right?"

Delta paused. "Hey."

Rosalie shook her head, then stalked toward the entrance-room exit. "Ridiculous. Let's get moving."

Delta followed after her, but only after sharing another smirk with Zoey.

Zoey exited last, settling her thoughts and bracing for whatever Mel's shard had to offer, this time.

Chapter 108

Chapter Text

The first sight that met them, venturing out into the stone brick hallways of Mel's shard, was vines. The entrance room had had a few, but not the bulky masses adorning the walls out in the shard proper.

Delta took one look at them, then turned a devious expression Zoey's way. "Let me guess," she said. "Those aren't just vines."

"They are," Zoey said. "Just … ones happy to show a girl a good time."

"I'm jealous. If we weren't in a hurry, I'd ask if I could have a round or two."

"Honestly, we never got that chance, either," Zoey said. The vines had gotten their hands—grips?—on her and Rosalie, but they hadn't really, well, violated them.

"You didn't?"

"They got us, but they didn't do much." Zoey cleared her throat. "Though they could've. Maybe because this is only a first advancement shard?" So it had been less perverted than it could be.

"Something's wrong," Rosalie said.

Which, of course, was a phrase that cut through her and Delta's exchange. They faced Rosalie.

"Look at them," Rosalie said. "They're not like before."

Frowning, Zoey looked closer.

And she was right. The mass of vines drooping down the stonebrick wall were behaving oddly. Erratically. Before, in their previous delve, they'd been practically sedate, at least up until the point they'd scooped her and Rosalie up. But now? They twitched in place. Not thrashing about, but visibly restless.

"What'd'you mean?" Delta asked. "Looks about what I'd expect from a bunch of perverted vines." She snickered. "Maybe they've been neglected too long."

"Mel said she might go 'haywire'," Zoey said. "That the damage might do stuff to her." She hadn't been clear on what that meant. "Think this is related? Or something else?"

"I don't like the look of it," Rosalie said.

"Maybe we can test it?" Delta suggested. "Quickest way to find out is hands-on, right?"

At two pairs of raised eyebrows, the fox-girl pouted.

"Please?" she said. "I'll be quick. Rubbing up against blondie got me all worked up. And vines sound fun."

Rosalie started sputtering, and Zoey just shook her head, exasperated.

Delta sighed, then waved Rosalie forward. They made a wide arc around the mass of vines. It wasn't a particular subtle trap; they would have to disregard it entirely to be caught. Either out of ignorance, or intention, as Delta had wanted.

"So not fair," the foxgirl muttered, eying the vines as they passed.

They hugged the wall, as far as possible from the trap. Doing so, it shouldn't have attacked them, not by the previous standards of the shard.

But as Rosalie cleared the constricted portion of hallway, with Delta not past, and Zoey not quite entered into their range yet, the vines writhed, coming to life, then whipped out. Zoey stumbled a step backward, but they only had eyes for their nearest target.

Despite how Delta had been volunteering for this a second ago, she struggled as vines burst forward and wrapped around her ankles. She stumbled and fell, cursing, as more of the green ropes attacked, gripping her around her calves and thighs.

Zoey and Rosalie readied themselves to break their friend out, but Delta shouted, "Wait. Let's see what happens."

Zoey hesitated, a spell half-formed, and looked to Rosalie. Alarm was on her face, but if Delta was requesting it, then maybe seeing what happened was fine. It let them know what to expect for the rest of the shard. Plus, even with the advancement difference, breaking her out of a triggered trap could exacerbate the problem.

And maybe the two of them had more selfish reasons. Seeing their orange-haired companion's thighs squeezed, and her breasts, wrapped with powerful vines, was far from something Zoey didn't want to see.

In only a few short moments—the time she and Rosalie spent hesitating—Delta had been fully secured by plantlife and lifted into the air. She had struggled at the start, purely from surprise, but quickly relaxed into the encounter.

Zoey shared a look with Rosalie, uncertain. Rosalie considered, her lips pursing, then sighed and shrugged.

Delta could have her fun, then. Purposefully indulging would've been too indiscretionary, seeing how they were on a time limit, but the vines behaving oddly and lashing out—despite being outside their range—was something worth observing. Maybe it would reveal something to do with the 'breakdown' of the shard? Because traps shouldn't be unavoidable, right? Especially for the low advancement environment they found themselves in. Last time, they'd only needed to pick carefully around the vines.

Those were excuses, though. The real reason Zoey let it happen was more obvious.

Zoey scooted past the mass of vines, trying to make it to Rosalie without getting scooped up herself. Fortunately, the plant's attention was on Delta, now, as thick appendages wrapped around the foxgirl and squeezed.

Rosalie watched, concerned, eyes flicking between her and Delta, but Zoey made it across the edge unmolested.

"She's a pervert," Rosalie said simply. "She should at least pretend she doesn't want it this much."

Zoey politely didn't mention that, for all Delta's enthusiasm, it was actually Rosalie who Zoey had seen demonstrate more … zealousness. Just, only when things got going, unlike Delta, whose demeanor matched both in the thick of things, and leading up to them.

Again, she allowed her poor, repressed girlfriend her delusions.

She snuck an arm around her waist, too, leaning into her as they watched their teammate be played with by thick green ropes. Nothing had happened yet—no penetration—but Zoey doubted that would last for long.

"You know, she's right," Zoey said. "We never did get to play with the vines much. That's kind of a shame."

Rosalie shot her an incredulous look.

"Though I suppose in the following months, we'll have plenty of opportunity. Future shards are sure to be … exciting. We'll get a chance at some point."

"No, thank you," Rosalie said.

"It doesn't look fun? Not even a bit?"

Rosalie just huffed.

The hand Zoey had wrapped around Rosalie's waist dipped lower, pressing between her girlfriend's legs—which extracted a little gasp of surprise.

"You know," Zoey said, "you make fun of me for my body betraying me, but you're just as bad. Look. You're practically drenched." She rubbed, spreading the slickness around. "Not that you're hard to read, without it. I hope you know that. That you're easy to see through." She leaned close to Rosalie's ear. "Watching your teammate get fucked by vines shouldn't excite you this much, Rosie."

Not that Zoey was spared from a similar reaction. But teasing Rosalie was something even a saint couldn't manage.

Rosalie couldn't even muster a 'hmph', this time. She shivered in place as Zoey rubbed and played with her. Rosalie leaned into Zoey's side, and the two of them watched Delta squirm in a mass of wriggling vines.

"Go in, won't you?" Delta gasped. "I'm ready. Stop the teasing." Her hips bucked up and down, offering herself.

"So shameless," Rosalie muttered.

The vines adjusted Delta, spreading her legs apart and exposing her pussy—very deliberately, it seemed, toward the foxgirl's two spectators. A thick green rope laid itself across her core, rubbing up and down, spreading Delta apart along its shaft. Delta moaned, shivering in place, but the noise was cut off with a surprised choking sound as another vine intruded. She gagged as her throat distended outward, the invasion swift and violent.

Rosalie's hand wrapped around Zoey's cock, and the two of them stroked each other as they watched the show.

The vine rubbing against Delta's pussy stopped teasing. It pulled back, placing its head against between her pussy lips, then pushed forward, spreading them apart. She groaned—a choking noise, suffocated by the rope cramming her throat—and the sound grew louder and more strangled when the vines gentle advance turned into a forceful one. A thick, slimy vine shoved into Delta's pussy, filling her up. They weren't small, either. Though the invasion didn't make Delta bulge as Zoey's cock might have, each thrust was still fully on display.

Flipping the foxgirl over—still keeping her indulgently framed for Rosalie and Zoey's viewing pleasure—the vines approached the last of Delta's holes to claim. Two smaller ones grabbed her cheeks and spread her ass apart, opening the way for a thicker, larger than the rest, one to line itself up. Zoey's eyes widened at the sheer girth. The perverted plant wasn't going easy on Delta. Maybe that was because of how visibly Delta was enjoying it.

Indeed, the enormous vine pressing against Delta's asshole didn't discourage the woman in the slightest. She squirmed and whined, throat and pussy being violated, and shoved her ass up, encouraging her attacker to complete the three-pronged invasion.

The vine pushed in, spreading Delta's backdoor apart. It went slow, struggling to fit, and even the experienced woman's moan became slightly pained—and louder and more excited for the fact.

Then it popped in, and their teammate had three vines thrusting in and out of her.

"She's way too good at this," Rosalie muttered. "All three? At once?"

Zoey was also impressed.

They enjoyed the show—and Delta, her circumstances—for several long minutes, the vines making sure to satiate their willing captive. Like usual, Rosalie came first, Zoey's skilled fingers taking her apart quickly and efficiently. Rosalie's own stroking went forgotten, but Zoey didn't mind; she was having much more fun toying with Rosalie, and enjoying Delta's show.

The vines, and their captive, came next.

Delta twitched and moaned, hips jerking, as she fell apart from a three-pronged attack. The vines swelled and pumped their own sticky payload out. Pink liquid dribbled from Delta's mouth, out her nose, and from her pussy and ass, too.

The sight alarmed Zoey. Aphrodisiac? And so much of it, poured into all three of Delta's holes. She should have expected that. It changed things. Maybe this hadn't been smart. But the damage was already done.

When the vines set their thoroughly-fucked foxgirl teammate to the ground, she groaned and rolled over, facing Zoey as she heaved in breaths. Her violet eyes locked to Zoey's—except instead of violet, they had gone a startlingly bright pink.

And rather than looking satisfied by having sampled the vines, Delta looked at the two of them, hungry for more.

Zoey really should have expected this.

Chapter 109

Chapter Text

Honestly, Zoey wasn't fully against the idea of just letting Delta do what she wanted. Satiating that burning hunger in her eyes in a very intimate manner. As Delta stood, eyes bright pink from the bucket of aphrodisiac poured into her, Zoey considered whether their mission was really that critical. Mel could wait another hour, right?

Rosalie, unfortunately, had a more practical outlook. "Use your skill," she said. "The new one. Counteract it."

It took a second for Zoey to understand. Influence. Her skill that let her 'inflame or mute internal statuses'. Delta had been influenced one way by the vines's potent payload, but Zoey could influence her the other, bringing her back to equilibrium.

The realization disappointed her. But, Zoey assuaged herself, she doubted she'd be lacking opportunities to have fun with Delta during this trip. Just, right now, with Delta heavily under the influence, and without having discussed it beforehand, she shouldn't dive into aphrodisiac-muddled encounters without at least discussing it beforehand.

Delta had risen and began stalking toward Zoey, eyes locked on one thing in particular—and with such a hungry look that her cock throbbed in anticipation.

"I'll hold her down," Rosalie sighed. "See what you can do."

A scuffle ensued, Delta highly displeased with Rosalie's responsible nature toward this event. She was so altered by the vines' pink liquid payload that she didn't even seem capable of speech, just grunts and whines. Two naked, sweaty girls struggled against each other as Rosalie tried to pin Delta down, and the sight didn't do much to help Zoey's already compromised state. Rosalie had been jerking Zoey off during the earlier event, but Zoey hadn't finished. She was worked up.

But the best course of action was to calm Delta. Zoey doubted the foxgirl would care much if Zoey let her pleasure her while under the influence of an aphrodisiac, but that was still best talked about in advance. Right after this, in fact, seeing how it might happen again.

Plus, testing to see if she could actually cast a 'muting' spell was important. Considering their environment, it was the type of ability that might come in handy in more serious situations.

She and Maddy had only practiced with her newest branch of magic for a single session. Maddy had drawn up a few designs, but to say that Zoey was unpracticed with them would be putting it lightly. And she didn't have the innate, prodigal talent, or breadth of experience, that Maddy did to help her along, either.

On the other hand, it was an ability that resonated with her class. And she had Burst to further amplify it, though at the expense of her lust resource. Though that wasn't something that would be in short supply.

In a quick exchange, Rosalie had locked Delta in place. Not only was Rosalie the more skilled fighter, she was stronger and better suited to wrestling, and had an advancement on Delta, too. How she'd ever lost to Delta during their 'strip spars' was a mystery—though not much of one. Zoey had a few guesses as to what had happened, and Delta had all but claimed it. Rosalie had wanted to lose.

With her pink-eyed, naked, sweaty teammate pinned in place, Zoey gathered her wits and did as Rosalie had told her. She pulled together an arousal muting spell, focusing it toward Delta. Then, to be safe, she amplified it with Burst.

Delta stiffened, and her struggling slowed, then stopped.

After a few moments panting on the ground, Rosalie asked, "Did it work?"

"Not that I'm complaining about being pinned down by a pretty girl," Delta grunted, "but this kinda hurts, blondie."

Rosalie disentangled from Delta, though eyed Delta warily. Delta stayed on the floor, panting. Rosalie stood and returned to Zoey's side.

"Your eyes are still pink," Zoey said.

"They are?"

"You feel better?"

"Horny as fuck," Delta said, "but I can think again." She shivered. "Honestly, being fucked up like that … was kind of fun. We need to collect some of that stuff."

Zoey paused. That was a good idea. Not just for personal use, but as an alchemy ingredient. Though she already had some aphrodisiacs, and an ability for it, too. But more never hurt.

"Though, how to get it will be a bit tricky," Delta said. She finally stood, swaying on her feet. Pink liquid dripped down her thighs; the vines had really pumped it out. "Getting a condom onto a vine would do the job, but sheesh. That'd take some work." She rubbed her knees together and groaned. "Can you hit me with another dose? This is still … pretty overwhelming." Her hand went between her legs and started rubbing, before pulling away—as if she hadn't meant to. "Or fuck me. That works, too. Any relief would be nice." She squirmed in place.

Zoey shared a look with Rosalie. Her girlfriend hesitated, then huffed and gestured toward Delta. She'd considered the idea of relieving Delta the more involved way, but hadn't succumbed to it.

Zoey layered another arousal dampening effect onto Delta.

Delta frowned. "Didn't do anything. Seems like it caps out." She groaned. "Fuck, this is awful. And amazing. At least when I couldn't think, I didn't have to resist."

"We need to keep moving," Rosalie said. "You can handle being a little excited."

"Easy for you to say."

"Next time, don't get caught."

"Get caught! You were leading. I'm just the unlucky one. Like always." She paused. "Well, not that unlucky, this time. But it's not my fault."

"We could have cut you out, but you told us not to."

Delta glared, then turned to Zoey. "Just a quickie?" She nodded at between Zoey's legs. "Can see you're ready for it."

"We're moving on," Rosalie said. "You're fine." That said, she strode forward. "It'll wear off."

Delta's eyes followed Rosalie's ass as she walked forward. She shook her head, then paused as she realized Zoey had caught her. She smirked, rather than seeming sheepish. Zoey rolled her eyes. She hardly faulted Delta for staring. Rosalie's ass was unfair.

As Delta fell into place, second in the formation, Zoey admitted Delta's own ass wasn't much easier to ignore, either. Maybe Zoey ought to level her own de-arousal spell inward. Her teammates were a serious detriment to keeping focused, which wasn't ideal, considering they were venturing into dangerous territory.

Rosalie slowed, then stopped.

"Actually," she said. "Maybe this is a good chance for you to get some practice, Zoey."

"Huh?"

"This is a first advancement shard. You've been practicing with your spells. I think you should try your hand at going solo. See what you can do."

"Oh," Zoey said. "Aren't we in a rush?"

"Just a few fights," Rosalie said. "Taking a few minutes longer won't change anything."

Zoey agreed with that, and after having allowed a diversion to watch Delta get fucked by vines, she couldn't insist on the principal of the matter, either.

"And I don't think letting this woman out of my sight is smart, right now," Rosalie said, eying Delta. "She's better, but still influenced. The eyes prove it. Better to watch her until she's fine."

Delta sounded vaguely miffed in her response. "What do you think I'm going to do? Pounce one of you?"

"Yes," Rosalie said flatly. "If you haven't realized it, you're staring at Zoey's cock."

Delta blinked. She paused, then, still not looking away, said, "Huh. Okay, you might have a point. In my defense, it's a nice cock."

"And you," Rosalie said, turning the flat look Zoey's way. "Get that thing under control."

"Oh, sure," Zoey said. "Let me just do that."

Rosalie gestured for Zoey to lead. "Perverts." She waved her hand insistently. "I'll be ready to help. The shard's behaving oddly, but that might not extend to the monsters, only the … your stuff. See what you can do. In the meantime, I'll watch the troublemaker."

"Troublemaker?" Delta asked. "You could just let your girlfriend fuck me, you know. I'm pretty sure that would fix this."

Zoey wasn't wholly against the idea, since Delta was clearly herself again, but at the same time, letting the aphrodisiac settle, then laying out boundaries, would be much more comfortable. And with Rosalie impatiently waving her along, Zoey had other tasks to attend to.

Practicing her solo adventuring capabilities. She'd spent less than a week in Treyhull, honing her abilities, but she ought to have learned some stuff. Her spellcasting skills had come a long way, even if she hadn't mastered them.

Oddly, as she turned forward and walked, the sudden vanguard of the group, she found herself excited by the prospect. Maybe her adventures were mostly lewd, thanks to her class, but a significant portion of her near future would still be the more typical events found in a delve.

And she'd never been a girl who lusted for a fight, but the idea of regular adventures appealed somewhat. Fighting, progressing, earning magical items. Especially joined by Rosalie and Delta—and Maddy, possibly, in the future.

So, steadying herself, she set off.

Chapter 110

Chapter Text

Her first preparation was the spell that had prompted their so-called vacation in the first place—Ice Armor. Zoey had needed, above improving her combat abilities, a way to defend herself without relying strictly on Rosalie's protection.

The spell forming in her mind, then activating, a sheen of ice coated her body, starting from her stomach and spreading outward, growing in thickness as her mana turned energy into physical material. Second by second, plates of see-through ice interlocked around her body, covering her in protective armor.

The material, as tested thoroughly with Maddy, could take a blow as well as metal could. Though, it would've been more effective layered on top of existing armor. Being spawned in naked wasn't ideal. Then again, Rosalie had said the shard made the encounters weaker to make up for it, so it balanced out in the end.

Behind her, Delta burst out laughing. It was unexpected enough Zoey's growing focus—her intense concentration on whatever upcoming fight she'd get into—dispelled. She blinked and looked backward.

"Nice," Delta said. "I mean, I guess I should've expected it from you, but still. Caught me off guard."

Rosalie, likewise, was looking at her with two raised eyebrows and a highly disapproving expression.

"What?" Zoey didn't know what was going on. What had prompted the reaction? Her armor?

She looked down at herself, then gaped.

"What," Zoey said.

In her practice sessions with Maddy, her ice armor spell had covered her in a typical knightly fashion—an aesthetic similar to a full suit of plate armor.

Now, she wore a jagged ice-bikini.

"I didn't do that," Zoey protested, turning and inspecting herself. She ran a hand across her exposed stomach, and the ice was there; it had simply taken a perfectly crystalline, see-through composition. "Seriously, what?" The only parts made of the familiar dark-blue ice that she'd practiced with Maddy were her sensitive spots: a fierce looking ice-metal bra, and of course, the bikini bottom.

"We know you've got a great ass, Zoey," Delta said. "But you don't need to show it off."

Rosalie, the more focused of them, asked, "This isn't how it usually looks?"

"No," Zoey said. "It's just normal plate armor." And while Zoey would admit the ice bikini didn't look bad on her, it was still embarrassing to be caught off guard. She hadn't specifically designed her defense to be perverted.

"The shard's influence, like usual," Rosalie said dismissively. "Though that it affected a spell is odd. That's not something I've heard of."

"I'm a big fan," Delta said, laughing having quieted, traded for a grin she couldn't, or didn't try to, wipe off. The way her eyes ran up and down Zoey's body heated her skin up. Being naked was one thing, but adorned in a tight, very revealing bikini, one Zoey hadn't even mean to put on, was another. "Though I don't know about the effectiveness of just letting your ass hang out."

Zoey looked back at herself, and saw that, indeed, it was all just hanging out. The front wasn't very chaste, but the back … even less so.

"It's still there," Zoey said. "The armor. It's just clear." To confirm, she tapped her ass, fingers meeting the hard material. It plinked off, despite seeming like nothing was there. "Just how it looks." Clearing her throat, Zoey said, "Anyway, that's a surprise. I'm gonna keep going, now."

Amused, Delta waved her on. Rosalie also seemed amused, though in a more subdued manner. Her eyes had also cataloged Zoey's new outfit, and not in an entirely practical appraisal. Zoey could tell she approved, even if she wouldn't say it.

While aesthetically impractical, the armor should work as it had before. It drew on her mana—her Lust—to reinforce itself, and despite being invisible in places, would still protect her.

She forced her mindset back to practical combat matters. The bikini had been a surprise, but ultimately, irrelevant. Her skin heated up, feeling somehow more exposed than when she'd been naked, but around Rosalie and Delta, Zoey was hardly self-conscious.

Combat. She had to focus on that.

Her ice armor summoned, even an ambush shouldn't pose immediate danger. The protective material covered her head, likewise see-through. Against a first-advancement shard, Zoey shouldn't have many problems.

Though, while she was technically third advancement, her strongest runes, and her highest leveled ones, were her support abilities. Her suite of solo combat abilities came from her rune of arcana, which was only second advancement, and far less practiced than a typical wayfarer. Add that to her general inexperience with fighting—being just some girl yanked from twenty-first-century Earth—and she had her work cut out for her, even fighting below her weight class.

Strangely, she looked forward to it. She wasn't an adrenaline junkie, but this was to be her life for the foreseeable months, and she wanted to be good at it. Though the idea of combat itself didn't excite her, she itched for the chance to prove herself.

She ventured down the hallway, tense, with her senses strained. Rosalie and Delta followed. They would intervene if Zoey failed, so she was in no real danger. Still, Zoey's heart pounded in her ears.

The scraping, scurrying noises alerted her to the first enemy. Zoey remembered the alien creatures—similar to Earth's animals, but also not something she actually recognized—from her and Rosalie's first delve, so she didn't flinch as the six-legged furry monster swung around a corner, scratching stonebrick as claws propelled it forward. Beady red eyes locked onto Zoey, and it screeched as it scrambled toward her.

She'd prepared her first spell in advance, holding onto the formula inside her head. Her Ice Armor and Ice Spike spells were by far her most practiced, but she and Maddy had worked on others. Ice was an element suited to disabling, Maddy had told her, and so they'd had Zoey practice with a rooting spell. The bulk of their efforts had been solidifying Ice Armor, so that Zoey could keep herself safe, and so she was much less effective with the root—but Zoey could bridge that gap by using her newest ability, Burst.

Ice exploded from the stonebrick floor, engulfing the monster's six legs, bringing its charge to an abrupt halt. The brittle material flowered around it, up to chest level. Normally, it wouldn't be half as effective, but by using Burst, she'd expended much more Lust than it would have cost otherwise—and empowered and stabilized it an appropriate amount.

She was just glad she'd gotten the spell off at all. About a third of the time, she botched it. Spellcasting wasn't easy, especially in the middle of a fight.

Given that temporary reprieve, Zoey readied her next spell. Ice Spike. Now that her opponent was locked down and immobile, she could do some damage. And she better, because the ice cracked rapidly, the monster shattering its confines as it thrashed in its grasp. She only had a handful of seconds.

A handful of seconds in a fight, though, was a huge window. Her next spell formed with ease, being the ability Zoey had the most practice with: the skill she'd used all throughout the first and second shards, and also simple and straightforward. A chunk of ice, propelled at great speed.

And, of course, empowered with Burst. At least for her first fight, she'd use her full kit without worrying about spacing out resources for the full delve. Rosalie and Delta could always recharge her.

Lastly, she tapped into her other commonly used combat ability. Pressure Point. She'd been using the ability not just in the second shard, but during … other encounters, too, passively. It helped Zoey identify weaknesses, and she had grown accustomed to using it pretty much constantly.

Here and now, it suggested Zoey aim for the monster's leg. That made her pause, since she'd have figured slamming the ice spike straight into its skull would be best, but she trusted her ability: if it said to aim for its leg, she would do so.

The spell activated, and a thick, jagged spear of ice—larger than usual, empowered by Burst—materialized from thin air, throwing up puffs of frost, then shot forward.

It landed true. The weapon cut straight through the front leg she had aimed for. Locked down by ice, it had been a safer target than its head, which thrashed violently as the monster struggled against its icy prison.

Zoey was already readying her next spell. The root she'd conjured weakened by the moment, and she doubted whether she'd even get a second ice spike off in time.

Indeed, by the time she'd cobbled the spell together, the monster had burst forward, breaking free, and continued its mad scramble for her.

She didn't aim her next ice spike as delicately—she aimed simply for center of mass. Considering the speed it was rushing toward her, that was smartest. Immobilized, aiming for a specific weak point had been ideal, but Zoey simply wasn't skilled enough to hit a moving target exactly where she wanted.

The ice spike buried into the monster's shoulder. It screeched, but was far from discouraged. Instead, it scurried even faster, set into a frenzy by the injuries it had taken.

And then it was on her.

The melee began. Zoey grunted as a surprisingly dense six-legged—well, five-legged—monster slammed into her. She spun with it, heaving with all her strength to get it off her. It was more of an instinctive reaction than a trained one. While Delta and Rosalie had, on a few occasions, given her pointers for how to fight physically, it was an unemphasized portion of her training. As the support mage of the group, Zoey really shouldn't be getting into brawls.

To her surprise, her attempt to fling the heavy creature off her worked handedly. As in, shockingly well. It had tried to bury its claws into her ice armor, and even had succeeded to some extent, but Zoey broke its grip easily. She flung the monster, and it went sailing away, smacking hard into the wall.

She wasted the advantage, unfortunately, in her surprise. The realization came quickly: of course she was stronger than she'd expected. Her advancements, to name one reason, which came with passive benefits, even to mages. Secondly, her stat-sharing skill, which gave her a portion of both Rosalie's and Delta's strength. While she wasn't remotely on their level—it was only a small portion of it—it still boosted her to a non-negligible degree. Certainly enough to handle a first-advancement shard, seeing how her teammates had second- and third-advancement stats.

The monster lay there, stunned by the impact, which Zoey used to pull together another spell. She would have gone for a pain-amplification ability, now that she'd put a few injuries into the thing, but she didn't trust her capabilities, there. She'd only been practicing with that set of spells for a single session.

So, another ice spike. The monster had recovered by the time she manifested it, but she'd loosed it before it reached her a second time. The spike slammed into the monster's face, biting deep.

Even that didn't kill it, though. Monsters were, unsurprisingly, durable to a supernatural degree.

It did effectively secure Zoey the fight, though. A short brawl later—having to peel the monster off her in another quick melee—and two more ice spikes, the monster's speed and viciousness flagging from her previous attacks, and she'd successfully killed her first monster.

Panting, Zoey stood over her fallen opponent, feeling inordinately proud of herself. All that for a single first-advancement enemy, but still—her first solo kill.

She'd be a real wayfarer in no time.

Chapter 111

Chapter Text

A bit bashful, Zoey turned to her teammates—a silent, 'how did I do?' on her face.

"A bit sloppy," Delta said. "But you'll get the hang of it, for sure. There's a fighter in there, I can tell."

Rosalie nodded in agreement.

Zoey blushed. The earnest encouragement affected her more than she'd have thought. It wasn't effusive praise, but Delta had sounded genuine.

"Thanks. But yeah, sloppy." The melee parts especially. Her spellcasting wouldn't wow anyone, but her physical fighting skills especially wouldn't.

Zoey also got the impression Rosalie and Delta weren't easy to impress, so the fact she hadn't gotten a wrinkled nose and a grimace before a conciliatory response probably meant she'd actually done well. Having prodigies for teammates did come with some downsides—the difficulty of matching up to them being the primary one.

She walked forward, deeper into the shard. She'd finished her first fight, but Rosalie and Delta clearly wanted to see more of what Zoey could do. And, preferably, without relying so heavily on Burst—that was a skill supposed to be used for emergencies, or at least the harder fights and key opportunities, since it drained her Lust resource so rapidly. She'd empowered almost every one of her spells last fight, and it had taken a toll.

The next brawl was a little more hard-fought, with Zoey leaning less heavily on her Boost ability. She still came out comfortably the victor, but it took a few more exchanges than the first. Even that was probably an indicator Zoey was still, all things considered, under-prepared as a wayfarer. A third-advancement adventurer should probably steamroll her way through a first-advancement shard. Though a support-class, the least so—at least she had that excuse.

But definitely better than where she had started. That was plain even to Zoey.

Rosalie and Delta gave her suggestions, critique, and commentary after each bout. The shift from all the inappropriate activities prior into brutal combat and tutoring was amusing, though not as disorienting as some of the times in the past. Zoey was getting used to how shards flip-flopped between the raw adrenaline of a fight and the stickier, other sort of heart-pounding adventures she got into.

As Zoey struggled through fight after fight, Delta's eyes faded from bright pink into a murkier purple-pink, and finally back to her typical violet. With her better senses returned, Zoey organized a quick discussion about the questionable situations they could get into—namely, aphrodisiacs.

Unsurprisingly, Delta just seemed amused that Zoey wanted explicit clarification. Zoey thought it smart to be mindful about that sort of thing, however obvious it might seem. A blanket agreement that if the shard put any of them in compromising situations, where their judgment might be impaired, that each of them had consent from each other in advance, made her much more comfortable with the situation.

With Zoey's brief training session—or maybe even evaluation session—completed, Rosalie and Delta rejoined the fray, and their progress through the shard turned from a crawl into a blaze.

It gave Zoey a newfound appreciation for the skill of her teammates, not that she had ever not been impressed. The ease they dispatched the low-level enemies made Zoey jealous. Again, having a couple of combat prodigies as teammates came with obvious upsides, but it did make Zoey the slightest bit self conscious.

Soon enough, they'd cut their way to their first loot room. Zoey briefly wondered whether they should skip it and forge forward to Mel, but again, they'd already wasted around an hour playing with the vines, then letting Zoey train, so if she objected a few-minute stop to pick up free items, then she'd be a hypocrite.

Though their dallying started to concern her; Mel was well within the 'safe' time frame she'd given, but Zoey felt they probably ought to be rushing to her as quickly as possible, simply for the principle of the matter.

Still, telling a wayfarer not to collect their earned loot probably wouldn't go over well. Even lower-level stuff, like what this shard would offer, could sell for decent money, or be useful. Especially since Zoey and her team were needing to build up an arsenal of weapons and armor that interacted with … well, her particular sort of shards.

Rosalie cracked open the hefty wooden chest, then reached into the inky black portal and rummaged around. Zoey and Delta, like always, watched with anticipation. Maybe they were on a time-crunch, and this event in general was concerning—being related to the end of the world and all—but she'd never get tired of new items.

The first object out came in two parts: a small rectangular slate that could fit in her hand, and … something recognizable. Curved and phallic-shaped, it couldn't be mistaken for much else.

Except … with the small remote-looking rectangle …

Zoey laughed, shaking her head. She had an idea of what this thing was. Better to make sure, though.

[?an? of R??t? Pl??s??e: ???e. Eq??p, then a?ti??te from a dis???? lo??io? to ???vi?e a t??il??ng e???rie???.

Zoey went still. Her amusement at what she suspected the item to be disappeared. The block of information that normally inserted into her mind on using [Inspect] was … mangled. Almost coherent, but warped and twisted.

Haywire. Zoey had almost forgotten about that. Mel had warned them that whatever the thing was that was 'eating her' would leave her shard unstable.

"What the fuck," Delta said.

Rosalie held the item, staring at it with an aghast expression. Delta seemed likewise unnerved. Even more so than Zoey would have expected.

But she supposed the reactions were fair. This was a world Zoey had simply arrived to, so its basic 'rules of nature' were all strange to her, and seeing them behave oddly was bizarre, and uncomfortable, but not terrifying. To Rosalie and Delta, natives of this realm, experience such a blatant break-down of how items should work was twice as upsetting.

"That's confirmation, then," Zoey said. "Something really is going on with Mel."

Because they hadn't had proof, yet. The vines had behaved oddly, but that hadn't confirmed that Zoey's dream hadn't been a normal one. Mel's request for Zoey to come help was legitimate. Zoey had already known that in her heart, but concrete proof was nice.

It also redoubled her conviction that they should get a move on.

"What is it?" Delta asked. "Or, supposed to be. Can you make out the description?"

"Kind of," Zoey said. Since she already knew what the item was, or had suspicions, she could make guesses what the warped and mangled information was supposed to mean.

[Wand of Remote Pleasure: Rare. Equip, then activate from a distant location to provide a thrilling experience.

Which was a shame. It was an item she'd have very much liked to use. But while Zoey might sometimes be reckless in her eagerness to test strange items—Sabina's recommendation not to just take the dream potion came to mind, with how unknown its effect was—but of this variety? Something visibly broken, disconnected from whatever system made all this 'work', so to say? Yeah, Zoey wasn't that unheeding of consequences. She'd rather not be sucked into a black hole, or whatever might happen using a magical artifact that had gone haywire.

She repeated the item's effect—her guess, at least—to Rosalie and Delta. Normally, Rosalie would wrinkle her nose and seem exasperated, and Delta would leer and make a joke about how it'd be put to good use, but instead, the two girls continued to seem uneasy. The situation had unnerved them. And to be fair, Zoey wasn't wholly at ease, either.

"I don't think we should keep digging around," Delta said, eying the loot chest. "If the items are messed up, sticking your hand in a portal that might be the same could be … bad."

"Agreed," Rosalie said. "What do I do with this?"

"Just carry it around," Zoey said.

"And is that safe?" Rosalie asked.

"Not in our inventory," Zoey said. Putting a broken item into their inventory, which worked on the same system, could be dangerous. "I mean manually. I'll do it." She needed to keep her hands free the least—and also didn't contribute much to fights. "I don't think we should leave it behind. Maybe it can … I don't know. Give insight to whatever's going on."

Rosalie considered that, then nodded. She handed the item off to Zoey. Zoey looked down at the remote vibrator. It was seriously a shame that it was broken—if 'broken' was the right word. She'd have liked to use it.

"We should get to Mel," Zoey said. "Pick up the pace."

"I'd rather not be here when things really start to break," Delta agreed.

Rosalie gave her own assent in the form of turning and striding forward, leaving the open, half-empty chest behind.

Delta and Zoey followed after.

Chapter 112

Chapter Text

With everyone having found a new resolve to make it to Mel as quickly as possible, they set a much faster pace. In less than half an hour, they'd cut their way out of the stone-brick hallways and into the second stage of the shard, the night-time forest. They trekked down twisting dirt paths, bits of slime and goo clinging to nearby rocks and tree faces. A familiar 'BEWARE THE SLIME' warned them of the imminent encounter. Anticipatory of what they'd find, the squad strode forward without slowing.

Though the dungeon had morphed its layout in some ways, the clearing that opened up with a lake of green slime was the same as Zoey remembered. Last time, Mel hadn't emerged until they'd gotten close. Zoey assumed it would be the same, now. Though she needed help, she was still bound by the rules of the shard—hence why she hadn't come running for them the moment they'd arrived.

That theory proved true. A few dozen feet away from the lake, the slimy green substance rippled, and a curvy see-through figure poured upward, materializing into a humanoid shape.

Like their previous meeting, a bright smile split the goo-girl's face, and she threw her arms wide as she ran toward Zoey.

For the second time, Zoey caught a slimegirl-turned-projectile. She had to drop the defective remote vibrator to free her hands.

Mel's sticky body impacted Zoey's, and she stepped backward to stabilize. To her side, Rosalie and Delta had tensed, but they could intuit that Mel hadn't run at her with hostile intentions. Indeed, a look their way showed they were looking at Zoey with amusingly similar expressions: pairs of quirked eyebrows. They probably hadn't expected her and Mel to be on such friendly terms. To be fair, Zoey was a bit surprised by that, too.

"You came," Mel said. "I mean, I knew you would, but still!" She pulled away, grinning, and the infectious enthusiasm was hard not to match; Zoey smiled back.

Still in Zoey's arms, with her legs wrapped around Zoey's waist—which put her tits at an unfortunately tantalizing height, shoved straight into her face—the goo-girl turned and looked at Delta and Rosalie. "And you brought friends," she said. "Hi. I'm Mel, short for Emerald Melt. I'll be your sticky plaything, tonight."

Zoey remembered her saying something similar the first time they'd met. A boss catchphrase? The thought amused Zoey.

Rosalie seemed unimpressed, and Delta the opposite—extremely impressed. The fox girl was, unsurprisingly, interested in a 'sticky plaything'.

"Delta," she said, returning the smile and not-so-subtly running her eyes across Mel's curves—which were entangled with Zoey's, seeing how the slime girl had catapulted onto her. "Man. Zoey told me about you, but actually seeing it is something else. Made of slime. Crazy."

"It comes in handy," Mel said brightly. A devious smile crossed her lips. "Mostly, it means I can really take a pounding. Not to mention all the other fun stuff." She turned back to Zoey. "Speaking of! Why aren't you hard yet?" She wiggled, rubbing her lower half into Zoey and trying to fix that problem.

Only through great effort—and concern—did Zoey stay focused.

She set Mel onto the floor, which she pouted at.

"Are you healthy?" Zoey asked. "We ran into some weird stuff on the way here. But you look fine?"

Mel rolled her eyes. "Like I said, our guest is focusing on parts of me that aren't as critical. Eating me outward-in, I guess. Though I have no idea why. But yeah, me, myself, I'm mostly fine. Maybe she's saving the tastiest parts for last?" Mel chewed her lip. "Though I don't think so. It's like she's trying not to hurt me. Or at least as little as possible."

"That's some sort of good news?"

"Maybe," Mel said, sounding unsure. "Anyway, which of you are fucking me first? Or are we going all at once?"

A short pause, taking in the sudden veer of conversation.

Delta chimed in, "Dibs?"

Zoey shot her a reprimanding look, but Delta didn't seem affected by it; she just smirked back. Zoey turned it toward Mel, next, and found as little shame in the slimegirl as the foxgirl. Zoey shook her head, exasperated. "We're trying to save your life, Mel."

"Not having your cock inside me is pretty much as bad as death," Mel said. "So let's fix that, first."

Delta started laughing, and Mel turned to her.

"Or tongue and fingers!" the slimegirl said eagerly. "I'm not picky." She bounced over to Delta, sensing easier prey. Delta blinked rapidly, having not expected it, then fumbled a step backward as a gooey body impacted her. Mel captured Delta's lips, and, to Zoey's exasperation, the foxgirl closed her eyes and melted into the embrace. She cupped Mel's ass and tugged her in closer, sharing saliva happily.

Zoey shared a look with Rosalie, who rolled her eyes.

"Now isn't the time," Rosalie said dryly. "Control yourself, won't you?"

Delta ignored her. Zoey couldn't say she wholly blamed her, but if they wanted a productive conversation, the succubus had to be resisted.

Rosalie and Zoey peeled the two kissing girls away from each other. Mel pouted immensely at that, and Delta finally gave a flushed and sheepish look, for the first time abashed at her actions.

"Sorry," Delta said. "Saving her life, first. Yeah, yeah."

"What's the plan?" Zoey asked. "We need more information. How do we help? You said you'd come up with something."

"I need your cum," Mel said.

"Mel."

"No," Mel said. "That's the plan. We need to draw it—her?—out, and the best way to do that, I think, is your cum."

As if demonstrating something, Mel held her hands out and rolled them together. From the goo of her own body, Mel fashioned an object right in front of them. In a quick moment, she'd finished. She held it out, and it took Zoey a second to realize what it was.

A condom. Made from green goo.

"What?" Zoey asked, baffled.

"This is how we'll collect," Mel said. She closed the gap to Zoey, then leaned closer and whispered, "I don't want to say too much. She's already watching us, I'm pretty sure. Maybe she can hear us, maybe she can't. But just roll with it, okay?"

"And you aren't just trying to get laid," Zoey said dubiously.

"A slime can have two goals at once, can't she?"

"You promise?"

Mel rolled her eyes. "I promise I'm not actually trying to get myself killed because I love your cock so much. Though it would be worth it. Now stop being so responsible. It's cute, but I want you three to fuck me."

Zoey shared a look with Rosalie and Delta. By the expression on the former's face, she could tell Rosalie wasn't fully sold on the idea. It went back to their earlier discussion—Rosalie wasn't as excited to jump into bed with just anybody. And that was perfectly fine.

"I'll keep a watch out," Rosalie said.

Delta raised her eyebrows at that, but didn't seem surprised. She had a good read on Rosalie, too. Rosalie was willing to engage with the lewder parts of the dungeon on occasion, and with Zoey and Delta, but random strangers, much less so.

"More for us," Delta said, turning to Mel, who seemed disappointed at Rosalie's rejection, but who perked up at seeing Delta's hungry eyes. "So. That body of yours, Miss Emerald Melt. What's it good for?"

"Oh," Mel said with a devious grin. "All kinds of things. Come find out, why don't you?"

Chapter 113

Chapter Text

Delta advanced on Mel, and the slimegirl basically wiggled in place from excitement. She tossed the green-goo condom she'd formed toward Zoey, who fumbled it in surprise.

The two girls embraced, returning to the kiss Zoey and Rosalie had torn them apart from.

Zoey shared a look with Rosalie. Her cheeks had colored—these events were becoming common, but not the point she could take them in stride—but mostly she seemed exasperated.

"You sure?" Zoey asked. Not because she wanted to pressure Rosalie into it, but because Rosalie sometimes took some pressing to get an honest response.

But she only replied, "I'm sure. And I do think somebody should be keeping watch."

Zoey couldn't argue that. What she, Mel, and Delta were about to get into would be pretty distracting, considering there was a magic-eating monster out there, somewhere. Probably watching them, Mel had even said.

Which was weird, if true. That a voyeur was sitting in the shadows somewhere. She looked around and, of course, saw nothing.

Zoey inspected the condom Mel had tossed her. It wasn't neatly bundled up, so putting it on would be a bit awkward, unable to just roll it down. Fortunately, it seemed she had a moment to herself—Delta and Mel were engaged with each other.

After getting herself situated, she had a long layer of thin, slightly green-tinted material wrapping her cock. Why Mel needed to 'collect' from her, Zoey still wasn't sure. To draw the mysterious entity out? Why would Zoey's cum be effective at that? At a guess, something to do with Ephy's blessing—and why the being was interested in Mel's shard at all.

In the moment, she couldn't find it in herself to care that much. If Zoey needed to be milked to help Mel, then she guessed she could suffer that fate.

Delta pulled back, breaking Mel's kiss, and gasping for air. Zoey sympathized. The slimegirl probably didn't need to breathe, and liked to use that to her advantage.

"This is great and all," Delta said, "but your body. You said you'd show off, and I'm kinda curious what you meant."

Mel stepped back. "Well," she said, "let's start with the obvious. I'm malleable."

Her body rippled, and in front of the two of them, the slimegirl's body reshaped itself.

"Have a type?" Mel asked, breasts growing, and adding several inches to her height—making Delta have to look up, though Mel stayed an inch or two shorter than Zoey. "Skinny? Plush? Tall? Short?"

"Now that," Delta said, amazed, as Mel adjusted her body a few times for her spectator's pleasure, "is awesome." She stepped forward and cupped Mel's tits and bounced them, experimenting with their new weight. "Shorter, though," she said. "But keep the tits."

Mel laughed and obliged. Shortly, the top of her head only came up Delta's chin—a few inches shorter than where she'd started.

"Turn around," Delta instructed her.

Mel did so, happy to obey.

Delta squeezed her ass and rolled the gooey substance around. Zoey was equally entranced, watching the material shape itself around Delta's hands.

"Can't imagine this could get much better," Delta murmured, feeling her up. "It's a neat trick, but the problem is, you're already perfect."

"Aw," Mel said. "You're sweet. But clearly not that tempting, because I still don't have you inside me, do I?"

Delta paused, then stopped squeezing her ass and tugged the slime girl in. A hand dipped between Mel's legs, and she started stroking around, teasing. "You're that impatient, huh?"

"More than impatient," Mel said instantly and shamelessly, wiggling around in Delta's grip, rubbing her lower half into the other girl's fingers. "This version of myself was literally made to be fucked. So that you're teasing is really, really mean."

"This version of yourself?" Delta asked.

Mel threw a look Zoey's way, ignoring Delta's question. "And when are you joining in? Just gonna watch us?"

Zoey shrugged. "Enjoying the show. Letting you two make introductions."

"I think we're done with that," Delta said. She looked to Mel. "Hey, does it hurt to go inside you? Like this, I mean?" She poked at Mel's stomach, wiggling her pointer finger around her belly button. It sank a half-inch or so into her gooey substance.

"Hurt?" Mel asked, shuddering. She grabbed Delta's hand and urged the digit deeper into her stomach. "No. Go further."

"It feels good?" Delta asked. She happily obliged, wiggling her finger in, then joined it with a second. Mel let another lewd noise escape. Unsurprisingly, Delta wasn't put off by the oddness of the situation. "Even your stomach?"

"My whole body is an erogenous zone," Mel said shakily, moaning as Delta's fingers explored around her stomach. "Like I said, I'm literally made for this. And very pent up."

"I've got an idea," Delta said, facing Zoey. "Get down on the ground."

Zoey could tell by the glint in Delta's eye that she'd imagined something fun, discovering how Mel's body worked. So, obviously, she obeyed.

She got down on the grassy floor, cock sticking upward and still wrapped in Mel's goo-created sheath. Her two partners approached. Zoey spared a quick look for Rosalie, who, despite claims to be 'staying watchful', seemed awfully absorbed in what was going on. She flushed and looked away as soon as Zoey's eyes pointed her way, and Zoey smirked.

She didn't know if seeing them have fun would change Rosalie's mind in wanting to join in, but either result was good. Whatever Rosalie wanted.

Those thoughts were dispelled pretty quickly.

"Get on her," Delta told Mel. "I want to try something."

"Happily," Mel breathed, joining Zoey on the ground, sitting on her lap. Zoey's cock stuck up between them, and Mel marveled it, running her hands along her length. A few shuddering noises escaped Zoey at the talented fingers playing with her.

"Down flat," Delta instructed.

Zoey did so, laying out so her back pressed into the grass.

"Now take her," Delta ordered Mel. "And go slow. I want to see it happen." She sat next to Zoey, on her knees, facing Mel. "A see-through body … that's seriously amazing."

Zoey couldn't help herself from reaching out and squeezing Delta's ass, seeing it presented. Delta looked over her shoulder with a smirk, fox-tail swishing, then back forward.

Her brief distraction went forgotten as Mel lifted her hips up and lined herself up to Zoey. Delta's ass was amazing, but Mel's see-through body was also a pretty great—hard to resist. Delta leaned close, as enraptured, maybe even more so, than Zoey.

Gooey pussy lips teased Zoey's cock tip as Mel rubbed back and forth, spreading herself open.

"Go slow," Delta repeated, sounding breathless. She leaned even closer.

Mel lowered down, letting out a whine as Zoey penetrated her.

"So fucking big," she whined. "Spreading me so … so wide. A-Ah!"

Zoey's cock slid in, leaving her tip suspended in a see-through body. Mel wiggled on top of her, body shaking in pleasure.

"Good girl," Delta murmured. "Keep it going. Take that fat cock. You're doing great."

Inch by inch, Mel worked her way down, taking her time, putting on a show for a captivated Delta. Even entranced, Delta kept herself to the side, making sure Zoey could enjoy the show too.

And the sight was one of the better parts—as amazing as Mel felt, getting to see her cock crawl up her stomach, floating inside her, was one of the more erotic parts of the experience. And the noises she made, the little twitches of her hips as she was filled up, struggling to take Zoey's size.

"Almost there," Delta murmured. "Keep it going. Such a good girl."

"So … much …"

Mel finally hit Zoey's thighs, and all fourteen inches stood proudly inside the goo girl.

Delta leaned up on her knees, then kissed Mel. "Good job," she said between pecks, teasing and pulling at Mel's lower lip. "I knew you could do it. Now, tell me if this is uncomfortable, okay?"

"Okay?" Mel murmured back, obviously not knowing what Delta had planned, but more than eager for it. Zoey didn't either, but she had high hopes.

Delta placed a hand on Mel's stomach—still shifted to the side so Zoey could see—then pressed gently forward. Slowly, her hand sank into the gooey material of Mel's body.

Zoey shivered, realizing suddenly what Delta's idea was. She wasn't sure if the logistics would work, but the idea—the idea was enticing.

With her hand submerged, Delta gripped Zoey's cock inside Mel's body.

"How's that feel?" Delta asked. She rubbed up and down, sliding her grip along Zoey's shaft. "Good?" It seemed targeted at both of them.

"More than good," Mel moaned. "Can I start moving, now?" Without waiting for a response, she lifted herself up, then slapped back down. Zoey's cock slid around inside her gooey pussy, and Delta's hand caressed her along the way. Delta moved her wrist slowly up and down, in tempo, jerking her off even while Zoey was buried into Mel's pussy.

Getting jerked off while fucking a girl at the same time. As amazing as it was strange. Really, what had Zoey's life become?

"So good," Mel repeated. "Fuck, I-I'm already close. I can feel it. Your cock is so unfair."

The next bounce of Mel's hips came faster, less exploratory. Then the next, and the next, and Mel worked into a rhythm, the slow and caressing pace turning into a bouncing and frantic one. Two tight grips milked Zoey's cock at once—a slimegirl's pussy, and Delta, fingers teasing and caressing at her tip.

Loud slaps of gooey slime on skin filled the air. Zoey held onto Mel's thighs and joined in the effort, craning her hips up to hit just a bit harder, bury her cock into Mel with just a bit more fervor.

Atop her, Mel cried out as pleasure started to wrack her body, grabbing her tits and squeezing. She wiggled and shook, hips slapping up and down as fast as she could manage, and finally she fell forward, pressing her tits into Zoey's. Delta continued to pump even through the awkward positioning.

Mel cradled Zoey's face with both hands and kissed her. Zoey drank in Mel's taste—and especially the noises of her orgasm, the breathless and excited sounds going straight into Zoey's mouth. Even that became too much for Mel to consciously contribute to, though, and she pulled back and buried her forehead into Zoey's shoulder as white-hot pleasure crashed through her, shaking her entire body. Zoey diligently fucked her through the process, pumping fourteen inches of girl cock with loud slaps of flesh.

As Mel's climax started to come down, Zoey slowed—but the slimegirl, only half recovered, pulled back and tutted disapprovingly at her. "Nuh-uh. Keep going. Faster. Enjoy me. We need your cum." She shuddered. "And I don't need a break. M-Made for fucking, remember?"

In a short moment, Mel was bouncing on top of Zoey with as much excitement as before. Delta's hand inside her stomach also kept working. Zoey groaned as the sensation built and built. She didn't try to hold off; it wasn't even the goal, so she indulged. Not that she could have resisted, with her cock attacked by two girls at once—and in such a strange way.

"C-Close," Zoey said.

As if sharing thoughts, Delta pulled her hand out out of Mel's stomach, and Mel lifted herself off. The two girls posted to either side of Zoey, four hands suddenly attacking her length. While not as incredibly overwhelming as getting jerked off while inside Mel, being attended to by four skilled hands was still a lot of sensation to handle.

Then Delta leaned down and started teasing Zoey with her mouth, wrapping her lips around her cock head, and Zoey really didn't stand a chance. She arched her hips upward, burying deeper into Delta's mouth, which the girl took in stride, and then she finally came, the building pressure becoming too much.

Thick white ropes burst from Zoey's cock, searing up her length with electrifying ecstasy. Delta worked the strings out with her mouth and tongue, teasing away, and four hands aided in the effort, stroking her impressive length as her climax arrived.

As she pumped string after string into Mel's condom, Delta was forced to pull her mouth off.

"Keep it going," Delta murmured to Zoey, locking violet eyes with hers as she stroked away. "Be a good girl and give us everything. Empty that fat cock of yours. Do it for us."

Mel kissed Zoey, working her through her climax, and Delta kept teasing Zoey with lewd words.

She really, really appreciated that.

Finally, her entire load worked out of her, Zoey sagged into the ground, feeling dizzy.

Chapter 114

Chapter Text

The end result was the slightest bit comical.

Zoey knew she came a lot; she'd become intimately acquainted with the fact in a whole slew of ways. But seeing her payload bulging at the tip of a condom contextualized just how much.

"Seriously," Delta said admiringly, hefting the collection up and down with two hands. It was still attached to Zoey's cock, so, despite the absurdity, it was also somewhat arousing seeing another girl worship it. "How do you do this? Has to be magic."

"I'm glad you had fun," Mel laughed, poking the balloon of liquid. "Yeah. This'll definitely be enough."

"Enough for what?"

"My devious plan, obviously," Mel said. "This was to save my life, remember?" She pecked Zoey on the cheek. "Which I'm super grateful for. And like I said, I'll let you do that gross thing in reward. Just have to handle this, first."

"Gross thing?" Delta asked, her playing with the condom freezing, the statement intriguing her.

"I said," Zoey protested, "that I've never asked for anything of the sort."

"So you're turning me down, then?" Mel asked.

A part of Zoey insisted that she did, if simply because it was so weird. But she hesitated.

"Gross thing?" Delta insisted. "What gross thing?"

"She wants to fuck me in the head," Mel said. "To stir my brains around with her cock."

Delta blinked several times, then turned to Zoey with raised eyebrows. "She does, does she?"

"I never asked for that," Zoey said firmly. "Seriously. She just assumed it."

"Well," Mel said. "I know you thought it. You just didn't actually ask."

"Huh," Delta said. "Yeah, that makes sense. No way she would. Zoey doesn't have nearly that good of taste."

Zoey paused.

"Kidding," Delta laughed. "Yeah, that's pretty weird, even by my standards. That said, you better take her up on it. If you don't, I'll be disappointed."

"Seriously?"

"It's not like it's a fantasy you can live out with anyone else. So yeah. I'll be mad if you don't."

Zoey rolled her eyes.

Though with Delta's approval, she suddenly felt a lot less hesitant with the idea. It was weird … but maybe she wouldn't insist on refusing, if Mel offered again.

"And let's get this thing off you," Mel said, rolling the condom up. "Like I said, time to enact my brilliant plan."

Mel's plan wasn't actually that brilliant. But hey, she had limited resources, and seriously limited information. Around a day's worth of study of some kind of … bizarre, alien magic-eater wasn't nearly enough to form a real plan of attack.

The only thing Mel had really deduced was that Mystery Woman liked the lewder stuff that Zoey's presence had brought to her shard. She'd made that pretty clear in hour one. Mel was still upset that she'd caught the woman—in a human body, strangely—masturbating at full frenzy, then had cut off when Mel had found her, and vanished.

Even if the woman was eating her essence and slowly killing her, that she didn't want to have some fun first was way more inconsiderate.

Okay, not really. Mel wasn't suicidal. She'd rather not die. She probably didn't have the same attachment to consciousness as some mortal creatures, but even so, she had some attachment. She'd never considered the topic too closely. This iteration—this version of her created to handle Zoey's arrival—was more lucid than any other form she'd taken. More … autonomous. Her thoughts were less clouded. If still rather focused on one thing.

The proof was in how she was ignoring her proper instincts, right now, to handle this situation for her continued survival. The instructions embedded into Mel's creation urged her to complete the fight with Zoey and Delta—to fuck the two of them mindlessly until someone came out a victor. That was how shards worked. Well, usually in a more violent way, but the general idea—fight to victory—was how they worked.

Instead, she lugged an overinflated balloon of Zoey's cum out to the edge of the clearing.

Where the woman was watching from.

Not that Mel was certain of that. The creature was astoundingly stealthy. Mel should have a nearly omniscient awareness of her shard—seeing how the shard was her, in a sense—but wherever the creature went, a fuzziness followed. Though, in a way, that meant Mel was always vaguely aware of the creature, too. Her general location, though narrowing it down could be difficult.

But her opponent's control had been slipping. The creature's position had been coming sharper and sharper into focus.

She'd been distracted by the display Zoey, Mel, and Delta had put on.

Had quite enjoyed it, at a guess.

Mel knew she had. Zoey was really so much fun to play with.

But to the point—her plan. Her plan was simple. What better way to bait out a perverted creature infatuated with magical essence than the rawest, most powerful form of that magical essence? The energy found in Zoey's cum was fascinatingly complex—divine in origin, Mel was pretty sure—but it was a rather inert sort of power, too. Not much could be done with it, despite its strength. Not to Mel's knowledge.

A creature that ate such material, though? And digested it?

The perfect bait.

But she was averse to contact; Mel had talked herself hoarse trying to convince the woman to come speak with her. No amount of pleading or questioning had worked.

So, she had to be trickier.

Not that tricky, though. Sometimes blunt force was the best way to handle things.

Mel hefted up the condom stuffed with Zoey's cum, which drooped several inches from sheer weight. She held it out in the direction she was fairly certain the creature hid. Mel imagined a rapturously intent gaze leveled her way—only raw self-control managing to keep the creature from pouncing on her and claiming the substance.

"Well," Mel said. "It would sure be a shame if someone were to waste all this precious, raw magical essence, wouldn't it?"

She poured some of Zoey's cum on her chest, then rubbed it around, slickening her already sticky body with the lewd material. She shivered in excitement at the act; though she was focused on this mission, right now, she still had a lot of fulfilling to take care of, afterward. Rubbing Zoey's cum across her tits, brushing her nipples with her fingers, made her core clench with need. She wanted the dark-haired human to coat her the more exciting way—to paint her straight-on. But this was a fun alternative.

Mel poured a hefty load into her mouth, then rolled her tongue around, tasting Zoey's thick musk. It was, of course, incredible. The best thing she'd ever tasted. Or maybe second best—Zoey's cock itself had the lead.

In front of her, the vague impression of a shadow roiled and twisted, as if furious. That made Mel pause, but it also meant it was working. Irritating the creature was her intent.

"It tastes really good," Mel said, pouring another load out and swallowing. With how much Zoey produced, she'd barely made a dent on the material. "And I'd be more than happy to share if someone wants to come talk with me. Or even show themselves."

She waited, but nothing happened. Well, beyond the vibrating shadow-mass in the nearby distance. Which wasn't really a shadow—just Mel's supernatural understanding of her shard manifesting into something her eyes could comprehend.

She pouted when she got no response.

She tilted the condom, then slowly started letting Zoey's cum spill into the grass. Slowly—only a trickle.

The shadows grew more agitated.

She increased the flow. It poured out in a slow stream.

They bubbled and turned.

Finally, she tilted it all the way, and a torrent of white cream poured out, pattering into the ground.

A woman materialized from thin air in front of Mel. She lunged forward, then clasped two hands into where Mel held the condom's tip. The flow cut off, the divine liquid saved by her interloper's intervention.

"What are you doing?" the creature hissed—a mixture of aghast and infuriated. "Do you have any idea what that is?"

Ruby-red eyes glared at her, and Mel found herself briefly at a loss for words. She'd caught a quick glance of the woman, but up-close, she was even more beautiful.

Mel leaned forward and kissed her.

Red eyes widened in surprise, and then—thank the heavens—she relaxed, leaning back and letting Mel assault her.

Mel knew how to handle this. After swirling her tongue around and mixing the lingering amounts of Zoey's cum between their mouths, she pulled back and poured a second fresh load. She rejoined the kiss, pushing Zoey's cum in, swirling it around and sharing it. The thick, musky material traded mouths, before the woman drank greedily, swallowing the saliva-cum mixture they'd created.

Mel poured another load. It was a good thing Zoey had provided so much—after pouring it out, then sharing, she was running low.

Her opponent was so overwhelmed by her attack it was almost amusing. Not just Mel's skilled tongue and mouth, her tits pressed into the other woman's, and her knee providing a firm place to rub against lower down, but the more magical sort of assault that Zoey's cum provided. She drowned in raw, potent essence, and she started to sway in place, standing only with the support of Mel's free hand on her waist, tucking her in.

"Wow," Mel said. "You like it even more than me."

"So … much energy …"

Mel tipped the condom over, pouring it straight into the woman's mouth. She drank happily, closing her eyes as she basked in the taste—both the literal, at a guess, and the magical. By her squirming lower half, she was hardly immune to lust.

"An infinite supply of it, too," Mel murmured—which had two brilliant red eyes clearing, then locking to her, hungry. "Bet my shard looks kind of boring in comparison, huh?" She leaned closer and bit the woman's lower lip, tugging on it. "If you stay here and keep feeding on me, then there's no more where that came from. But her?" Mel gestured in Zoey's direction, who watched them with wide eyes. "There's as much as you want, if you ask for it from the source."

The woman stared at Zoey's group.

Unfortunately, contrary to what Mel had expected, she paled, expression morphing to raw panic.

"They see me," she whispered. "I can't—Mother's directive—"

She vanished.

Mel fumbled at the sudden lack of a warm body to lean against. Stabilizing herself, she crossed her arms and pouted at the empty air where her invader had been.

What the words meant—'Mother's directive'—she hadn't a clue, but Mel was almost certain she'd accomplished her objective, even if not in as direct of a method as she'd hoped. When Zoey left the shard, a certain cum-fascinated vampire would almost certainly be accompanying her in the shadows. Why stay here, after all, when there was so much more potent material to be feeding on?

It was all Mel had. The creature could avoid them—and probably overpower them, even—if it wished. Her only option was baiting her with Zoey, so that she left Mel alone.

And Zoey would be fine. If the creature really did want frequent feedings, then Zoey's blessing—a mantle of heavenly energy—would be more than enough to keep her satisfied. Whatever that creature was, she could drink forever of a goddess's essence and never make a dent in the reservoir. Zoey was in no harm, and neither would Mel be, assuming she left.

It was as neat of a solution as she could invent.

Mel turned and beamed at Zoey and her group, feeling immensely relieved—and excited for what was to come.

"Okay! Pretty sure that's handled. Now, it's time to say thank you."

Chapter 115

Chapter Text

Though more than happy to receive Mel's so-called 'thank-you's, Zoey needed explanations first. Primarily, about how she'd pawned the … woman? creature? … off on them.

Mel provided her reasoning without deceit. From her perspective, she'd simply assumed Zoey knew that she would be doing so.

Which was fair. Zoey had kind of expected it, and had come to Mel knowing that her problems would become her own, but she hadn't expected that to be the actual basis of Mel's plan—for the goal to be literally using Zoey as bait. To the slimegirl's credit, she seemed embarrassed: she had truly thought Zoey had expected it.

That said, Zoey wasn't too upset about the situation. Though collecting a shadowy, impossible to detect voyeur—who, apparently, was wearing a gorgeous human form with red eyes and flowing black hair—was the slightest bit disorienting, it was better that she focused on her than Mel. Apparently, by Mel's appraisal, Zoey wasn't in actual threat from the creature; she'd simply taken an interest. Mel, however, very much was in danger.

So, an inconvenience to Zoey, versus a lethal threat to Mel. Obviously the former was preferable. Having a voyeur watching her would be weird, but Zoey had also dealt with worse. And she apparently wanted Zoey's cum, which meant in the following days, she'd be seeking a way to make that happen. What form that encounter would take, Zoey had no idea, but her secret admirer situation shouldn't last for too long. She hoped.

Besides, being watched was kind of … fun?

A beautiful woman spying on her from the shadows was kind of exciting. Part of Zoey rejected that idea, but her heart rate picked up nonetheless. It was weird, yes, and whether she was in real danger did concern her, despite Mel's assurance, but all things considered, some kind of pseudo-alien wearing a busty human body being obsessed with her cock wasn't the worst thing in the world. Objectively speaking.

Though, maybe her partners wouldn't be so excited about being spied on. Rosalie or Delta. Well, more Rosalie than Delta, obviously. Delta probably found the idea as titillating as Zoey. Regardless, they were in the loop, so if they objected, they could always say so.

Either way, those thoughts went relegated to second priority.

Because Mel was eager to get started.

Her safety secured, the slimegirl wasn't so much insisting on giving her thanks as demanding it.

"So," Mel said. "Anything you two want. I'm yours." She grinned deviously at Zoey, and to Zoey's embarrassment, Delta turned a similar look her way. "Even in that way."

"Honestly," Zoey said, "you sound more excited for this than me."

"I guess it's kind of uncomfortable," Mel said, "but when it's your cock, I think I'm okay with it. It'll be fun."

"If I had a dick, and a girl telling me to stick it in her ear, I'd already be inside," Delta said loudly. "Maybe I should be the perverted goddess's champion."

Zoey gave her an amused look.

"What? Tell me I'm wrong."

Zoey wasn't sure she could.

Delta seemed smug at that, then, after a second, pouted.

"It's so unfair the shard didn't let me keep the mirror. I want your cock," Delta complained. She paused, then turned to Mel. "Wait. You're the boss, and this shard is yours, you said. So don't you decide all that?"

Mel tilted her head as if she hadn't considered it. "Huh," she said. "You know, most of that stuff happens automatically. But maybe I can do something."

Mel frowned, then held her hands out in front of her. With an expression of deep focus, she channeled some unknowable ability.

A moment later, an ornate mirror popped into her hands.

"Hah! It does work." Mel shivered. "Though, that felt seriously weird, going against my instincts."

Delta took the mirror, turning an excited look to Zoey, but at the revelation, Zoey's focus had gone elsewhere.

"Do it one more time?" Zoey asked. "I have something better than the mirror. My potions?"

Mel frowned, studying her. Her eyes widened as she supernaturally put the pieces together, apparently shuffling through Zoey's belongings. "Oh. Oh!" She vibrated with excitement. "Yes, please."

One furrowed brow later, a potion popped into her hands.

Mel squealed in excitement.

"I do get two cocks inside me," Mel said, wiggling in place. She thrust the potion out toward Delta. "Drink this. Now!"

Delta gaped at the potion.

"I was saving it for later," Zoey said. "But then all this stuff popped up. Sabina catalyzed it."

"Holy shit," Delta said, reverently taking the item from Mel's hand. "It grows a cock?"

"All that time spent in the lab wasn't for nothing," Zoey joked.

"Fuck me," Delta said. "So we both get to fuck her." She paused. "In the ear?"

Er—Zoey had imagined a more traditional double-teaming.

"Or we can ease into that," Delta conceded. "Normal way first." She rolled her eyes at Zoey. "Seriously. Who's the priestess of sex, again? You should be the one convincing me." She locked ravenous eyes to the potion. "This is going to be awesome."

Zoey agreed, even if she found a blush creeping up on her cheeks at the raw excitement in Delta's voice. Zoey understood why, though. Getting to share Mel with Delta was … enticing. Honestly, seeing a cock on Delta was an event in its own right. She'd been looking forward to it since Sabina's discovery.

Truthfully, her initial idea had been to share Delta with Rosalie, but at the same time, getting to toy with Rosalie's cock by herself would be fun. And Mel was here, eager to be double stuffed, and Zoey would hardly deny her that.

So.

Sharing with Delta.

A great back-up, even if not what she'd planned originally.

Without hesitation, Delta tipped the vial back and drank. She shook the glass to get the last few drops onto her tongue, then swallowed and wiped her mouth. She tossed the empty vial into her inventory, then waited.

The first indicator came through Delta's shoulders hunching forward, and a violent shiver wracking her body. Her hand sprang down between her legs, cupping herself, and a strange noise escaped her—a definite moan, but whether from pleasure, disorientation, or even pain, Zoey couldn't tell. Likely a mix of the three.

Delta's knees squeezed together, and a second hand joined the first as she pressed down on her crotch. "Woah. This is crazy. I-Intense." She moaned, loudly, then forcibly pulled her hands away and looked down at herself.

Zoey's eyes widened. Delta's cock had already started to fill in, and fully at attention from moment one. The three girls watched, amazed, as a proud, feminine dick sprouted between Delta's legs. It had a curve to it, pointing slightly skyward. A single thick vein ran down its length.

Delta shivered through the whole process, squirming in place, sending the thick shaft bouncing as she did. When the transformation had ran its course, eight to nine inches of girlcock throbbed in rhythmic pulses, already leaking a bead of precum. Worked up. Excited to be used. Waiting to be drained.

Which Mel—and Zoey—were more than happy to get started on.

Chapter 116

Chapter Text

Content disclaimer: some futa/futa mixed in with this DP scene. Just FYI.

Zoey approached Delta, a smirk teasing at her lips. By the foxgirl's wide eyes, and her slightly parted mouth, she was disoriented by the change to her body, even for all she'd been enthusiastic about it.

And Zoey intended to take advantage of that. First, though, she wanted to tease. Arriving in front of the girl, she gripped her own cock and lined it up next to Delta's, pressing the tip into Delta's pelvis to the side of where her own member sprouted. The size difference was nearly comical when held side to side. Around eight or nine inches long, and proportional to that—maybe even thick for her size—Delta didn't remotely have a 'small' weapon. But compared to Zoey?

"It's cute," Zoey conceded. Delta's cock radiated heat into Zoey's own, the two members pressed into each other. Delta's twitched at the contact, and the foxgirl panted quietly as she stared down between their bodies, taking in the sight. "But it's pretty obvious who's the winner."

Cheeks flushed, and apparently not having managed to find her words yet, Delta pressed her hands onto either sides of their cocks, squeezing them in tighter. A shiver went up Zoey's spine at the contact. With a shaky exhalation, Delta worked her hips back and forth, sliding her cock alongside Zoey's, their foreskins bunching in Delta's grip.

Zoey was hardly immune to the sensation, and the excitement of the situation, but she definitely wasn't as affected as Delta. She'd dealt with this equipment for a while, by this point. Delta finally getting her own was something that had her heart slamming in her chest, but she didn't also have to contend with the new barrage of sensations that came with it.

"Fuck," Delta murmured, stroking up and down the two of them, her hips seeming to move on their own. "Yeah, you're the winner. It's really not fair."

Mel, thus politely letting Zoey and Delta have their moment, finally protested. She'd waited as long as she could physically help herself.

"These are mine, now," the slimegirl said, getting onto her knees and grabbing each of their cocks. "You two can do this whenever. It's my turn."

Zoey turned and cozied into Delta, pressing her shoulder into the other girl's, who likewise melted into Zoey. The two of them watched their eager third stroke along each of their lengths. With her arm wrapped around Delta, she felt every shiver and twitch of the other girl as cascades of hot pleasure coursed through her cock, caressed by Mel's skilled hand.

More than basking in Mel's grip on her own cock, Zoey marveled at seeing Delta played with. She was the owner, as Zoey had expected her to be, of an amazing cock. The thick shaft sprouting from her feminine build was twice as enticing, framed by plush thighs and beneath firm abs.

In fact, Zoey couldn't help it. She had to toy with Delta before they got to the main event.

She joined Mel on her knees, so that the foxgirl had two attendants staring up at her, faces level with her cock.

"Shit," Delta murmured, a hand digging into Zoey's hair, and the other into Mel's green locks. She pulled them gently forward, pressing each of their cheeks into her member. "I mean, if you insist."

Zoey breathed deeply, taking in Delta's musk. She was sweaty from their adventures earlier, and that scent lingered thickly on her cock. Zoey turned and pressed a kiss into her shaft, and Mel did the same. They ran their tongue and lips up and down the foxgirl's cock, getting it slick and wet together, kissing each other across Delta's shaft, their tongues bumping into one another as they sloppily lubricated the other girl.

"Come on. Don't tease," she said breathlessly. "Get to work, yeah?"

The shaky, almost disbelieving tone in her words had Zoey's own cock throbbing in excitement. But she was much more interested in Delta than taking care of herself.

"Go ahead," Zoey told Mel. "You can have the honor."

Zoey shuffled behind Mel, pressing her tits into the slimegirl's back, then leaned her chin onto her shoulder as she watched Mel's lips—guided by Zoey's hand on the back of her head, and her chest pressing the slimegirl forward as she leaned in—envelop Delta's cock tip. Zoey was torn between watching the twitching member get swallowed and watching Delta herself, who shook in place, as twitchy as her needy member.

"Don't be shy," Zoey said. "We have to make an impression."

Not gently, but not violently either, she pushed the back of Mel's head forward, forcing the goo-girl to swallow Delta's cock. Delta moaned and bucked her hips, slapping herself in the rest of the way, and her head fell backward as the pleasure of a tight, wet throat assaulted her.

"There you go," Zoey murmured into the slime's ear. "Open that throat up. It's what you're made for, right?"

Mel moaned her agreement, a wet, gargling noise, changing in tone and rhythm with each thrust of Delta's hips—because thrusting the foxgirl was, already, the excitement too much for her to resist.

In only moments, Delta was throat-fucking her partner. Zoey aided in the effort, one hand planted onto the back of Mel's head, forcing her forward, shoving the slimegirl onto Delta's cock with almost as much force as Delta slapped forward.

Lewd noises filled the air, squelches and claps of flesh on slime. Seeing how much both her partners were enjoying it, Zoey urged Mel on with harder and harder movements of her hand, watching eight inches curve downward into Mel's gooey, see-through throat, then crawl back up, only to be shoved violently down again. Mel struggled to handle the violation, choking and gargling, but she didn't resist in the slightest.

"That's it," Zoey murmured. "Take that fucking cock. Show us how much you love it."

"So much," a distorted, choking response came—or so Zoey intuited, seeing how mangled it was. Mel's body language, at least, made it clear. "I love her cock so much."

Delta gripped either side of Mel's head, then widened her stance, hunching forward slightly. Her thrusts became wild, knuckles turning white as pleasure took control of her body. The thrusts came violently, each slap of her hips into Mel's face ringing through the air. The humping was animalistic, raw lust guiding her motions. She grunted with each impact, pistoning in a desperate, nearly clumsy motion—clearly needing more pleasure, more of Mel's tight throat.

The goo-girl matched the enthusiasm. She sucked and stroked, holding onto Delta's hips to stay down.

"I can't— I can't— It's so much," Delta whined.

Zoey could tell a climax when it was coming, and so could Mel. Catching Zoey off guard, though, Mel pulled off Delta's cock and urgently said, "Share. Share it with me."

Together, Zoey and Mel stroked lips and tongues across Delta's sensitive member, who continued to thrust between the provided slick surface of their joined open mouths. Mel jerked her off to help her along, and a second later, the first sticky string ejected. Mel pulled back and closed her eyes, opening her mouth, and she coaxed the payload across her face and tongue, moaning in her own delight.

Zoey joined in, pointing the twitching member her own way, and Delta splashed hot ropes across her face, coating her. She caught a few into her mouth, and Zoey basked in thick, heady taste of Delta's first payload.

Through the whole event, Delta shook violently, groaning and spasming, her hips shoving back and forth in little twitches. Zoey suspected normally she'd be spewing obscenities or dirty talk, but she was far too overwhelmed for that.

With their hands and mouths, Zoey and Mel left the foxgirl speechless, her mind turning white from the ecstasy of having her load extracted. Behind her, a long orange fox tail jerked side to side, matching the way the rest of her body trembled.

Comically—and making Zoey feel quite proud of herself and Mel—when Delta's toes finally stopped curling, she fell backward, thumping hard into the grass, looking dizzy.

Mel took Zoey's mouth, and—having apparently hoarded Delta's reward—they basked in their mutual triumph, rubbing their tongues together and sharing a kiss lubricated by Delta's warm cum. The foxgirl watched that, too, seeming to grow even more dizzy.

"Okay," Delta conceded. "Fine. Maybe you are the priestess of lust, you devil."

Mel pushed Delta's load into Zoey's mouth one last time, then pulled away. Zoey turned to Delta, opened her mouth to display the full load of spunk, then pointedly swallowed the thick material with a smirk. Delta shivered.

"Alright," Zoey said. "Warm-up over. Mel's been waiting patiently."

"Very patiently," Mel agreed. "Now, which of you want my pussy, and which my ass?"

Chapter 117

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Zoey and Delta shared a look. Who got which hole? It was a question deserving of a moment's consideration.

"You get her pussy," Zoey declared. "This is your event, not mine."

Delta rolled her eyes, but despite the mock exasperation, also blushed.

"My hero," she said dryly.

Further discussion was cut off by Mel, who, as she'd claimed, was out of patience. She pressed sticky green tits into Zoey, hugging her and resting her chin on Zoey's collarbone, looking up with eager—but almost annoyed—green eyes. "I swear, if you waste one more second, I'm going to lose my mind."

Zoey responded the proper way. She grabbed the slimegirl by the shoulders—who was still kneeling, as Zoey was—then forcefully rolled her over onto her stomach. Shuffling over top the goo-girl, Zoey lined up her cock.

Sticking her ass up in the air, and whining with impatience, Mel demanded satisfaction. Zoey obliged.

She pressed her cock tip between round cheeks, wiggling it into Mel's second hole. Using Mel's sticky body as natural lubricant, Zoey slid in easily—though with plenty of squeezing resistance to wrap her. She shivered as her cock was pressed in all directions by tight gelatin, and she moved her hips forward, sinking deeper and deeper into the slimegirl's gooey asshole.

With a quick jerk, she slapped her hips in the last several inches, marveling in the intoxicating sensation of Mel's firm hole caressing her.

Grabbing Mel by the stomach, she rolled the two of them over, so Zoey's own back was pressed into the grass, and Mel laid atop her. Fourteen inches of cock pulsed inside her, but Zoey stilled the desperate need to pump and jerk.

This was Delta's event, however much Zoey was having fun herself.

"Your turn," Zoey said, her eyes locked to violet ones, beckoning Delta to join.

Delta didn't need to be convinced. She crouched over the two of them, lining her own cock up between Mel's spread legs. Zoey grabbed the slimegirl by the crease of her knees and pulled her legs in tight, locking them close to her head, so Mel's feet dangled in the air in a lewd, compromised position. Mel groaned and writhed atop Zoey, too excited to control herself, needing Zoey's cock to stir around her insides.

Delta gripped her cock and guided herself in.

She penetrated the slimegirl, and Zoey felt a thick cock slide against her own, separated only by a thin membrane—one she couldn't even see through Mel's body. Their cocks floated there, inside Mel, together.

Delta sighed, and her eyes closed as she pushed inch by inch deeper into Mel, her cock rubbing against Zoey's as it ventured forward. Delta laid herself across the slimegirl, sandwiching Mel between the two of them, creating a pile of sweaty skin.

At the added pressure, Zoey couldn't help herself. Her hips took a life of their own. She humped up and down, a slow, luxurious pace, relishing the feel of Mel's asshole wrapping her cock.

And combined with the pressure of Delta's member pressing into hers? In getting to share a partner, as Delta had suggested so many times, but which was finally happening? And in such an exciting way?

Zoey nuzzled her chin in Mel's shoulder and picked up speed. Atop the slimegirl, Delta also gave into her urges. Supporting herself by her hands and knees planted into grass, the foxgirl pistoned in and out of Mel's pussy. Each stroke had a thick shaft of girl cock rubbing against Zoey's own, and the sensation whited her mind out. With so much crammed inside Mel, she was even tighter than usual—and the slimegirl already had an incredible grip.

"So … good …" Delta groaned. "Fuck, Zoey. Your cock feels so good against mine." She buried her forehead against Zoey's, to the side of Mel's own head, and the three girls panted and whined as all of them humped and thrusted against each other. "This is even better … than when I had yours. How does it feel so good?"

Their speeds increased together, pleasure intensifying. It didn't take any time at all for Zoey to feel Delta's cock starting to twitch. Squeezed together inside Mel, she could feel each motion, each jerk of Delta's cock as she rapidly approached orgasm.

Zoey sympathized. Delta had a tiny amount of experience wielding a cock, but not nearly enough to resist this event.

"Cant help it," Delta moaned. "Sorry. I'm—I'm cumming."

"So quick," Zoey tutted. "But go ahead."

Crammed inside Mel, and squeezed so tightly against Zoey's own cock, she felt Delta's member swell in imminent orgasm. The foxgirl slapped herself as deep as she could, her ass straining and she arced her hips forward. Zoey kept pumping, massaging Delta's cock with long strokes, her thick shaft running along Delta's with each shove into Mel's too-full insides.

Delta came. Her body quaked and twitched as she emptied herself, spurting thick strings of seed into Mel's womb. Zoey felt the heat of her payload as it spilled into Mel. Through her green, see-through body, she watched Delta coat Mel's pussy with her white cream. The sensation, and imagery, made Zoey moan, her own climax spurred on. Her hips moved faster and harder, pushing Delta's cock against hers in a way that sent sparks dancing through her body.

Mel fell apart next. Her body tensed and trembled as she cried out in pleasure. Her asshole clenched down on Zoey's cock, squeezing tightly as orgasm pulsed through her. Delta groaned, being likewise caressed, the renewed pressure milking out even more of her own finish.

It was finally too much. Zoey's climax rushed up to meet Mel's, and with one last thrust, she slapped her hips hard against Mel's ass and released her payload. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her as she filled Mel's asshole with her seed. The sensation was overwhelming, every muscle in her body tensing so hard she couldn't move.

The pleasure drained away, leaving Zoey spent. She lay beneath Mel, going limp. Delta lay likewise exhausted, skin glistening—half from sweat, half from Mel's sticky body. She didn't make to pull out. She and Zoey kept their cocks firmly inside the slimegirl, stuffing her full. The amount of white strings floating inside her bordered on comical.

"At this rate," Delta said, "we'll turn you into a white slime, not a green one."

Zoey laughed, pressing her forehead into Mel's shoulder. "Really?"

"Sounds like heaven," Mel mumbled. She wiggled her hips side to side, stirring Zoey and Delta's cocks around, and extracting two sudden moans. "You two aren't done already, are you? Get back to work. This is a boss fight, remember?"

"Oh?" Zoey asked. "It is? Then I'm supposed to take this seriously?"

"That sounds foreboding," Mel said. "Learn some new tricks?"

"You could say that. Here, tell me how this feels."

Focusing on the slimegirl—and admittedly still tired from her finish, but more than willing to push through—Zoey put her newest branch of magic to work. Not much more than an hour ago, she'd muted the aphrodisiac effect the vines had forced onto Delta. But the more intended use was surely the reverse: to inflame a target's arousal and sensation.

The spell gripped Mel, and the slimegirl shook between her and Delta, groaning loudly. "W-Wait. What is that?" she whined. "What did you do to me?" Her hips gyrated up and down, sliding Zoey and Delta's cocks around inside her. "G-Gods, what the heck? That's so—so much! Not fair."

"Fair? It's a boss fight, remember?" Zoey teased. She turned her eyes to Delta. "Here, help get her up."

Delta did so. They slid out of their partner in unison, freeing their thick payloads to pour out, which Zoey briefly admired. In short order, Zoey had picked the slimegirl up and spun her around, so her gooey tits pressed into Zoey's own. She lined her cock up to Mel's pussy, who desperately aided her—needing more than ever to have cock inside her, inflamed by Zoey's spell.

Zoey shivered as Delta's cum acted as lubricant, helping her slide into Mel's tight pussy. Delta didn't hesitate to join Zoey, claiming Mel's ass, likewise covering her cock in the fruits of Zoey's previous finish.

With them both inside, Zoey and Delta began to move. They thrust together, in and out of Mel's tight body. Her pussy clamped down on Zoey's cock, milking her with every movement, and her ass clenched around Delta's shaft, likewise pleasuring her partner. The slimegirl aided them, humping back and forth, caressing each of their cocks in both directions with each thrust of her hips.

The sensation, amplified by Zoey's spell, was too much for the poor first-advancement boss; barely moments passed before they had started, Mel was shaking violently in their grip, her third orgasm of the night crashing through her. Zoey seized Mel's mouth with her own and shared saliva as the girl spasmed. She and Delta pumped cock into Mel at a quick, satisfying pace, working her through it.

And to be fair to Mel, she and Delta didn't last much longer either. The feeling of their cocks sliding together while crammed inside Mel's tight holes was almost as compromising as an aphrodisiac spell. Mel's fourth finish rose up to meet theirs, barely a minute after her third, and the three girls groaned and shook together as they painted the slimegirl's insides with a fresh batch of baby batter.

Zoey and Delta pulled out with wet squelches, and cum poured from Mel's holes. Her normal imperviousness had taken a hit; she seemed almost dizzy from her previous two climaxes. Zoey's spell had taken it up a notch—to a degree Mel might never have experienced.

But after a second laying in the grass, panting, Mel elbowed up and locked eyes with Zoey.

"Before you win," Mel said, "don't forget. Gross stuff. I promised you that."

Zoey paused.

Right. That.

Well, since she insisted, Zoey supposed she would take her up on the offer.

Chapter 118

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Content Warning: Unusual penetrations.

Zoey wasn't sure why the idea was so enticing. Purely because of the strangeness? That was the only reason she could imagine. And maybe some curiosity. Because what would it feel like? It wasn't every girl that Zoey could stick her dick wherever she wanted. And from the sounds of it, into Mel's ear was going to be a special experience.

Mel posted up on her knees, kneeling with her back straight. The slimegirl deliberately positioned them pointing toward Rosalie. Zoey had definitely not forgotten about her girlfriend—knowing those blue eyes had been watching her and Delta double-stuff the slimegirl had been one of the many exciting parts to the event.

Though, this.

Zoey paused. "You're not going to … I don't know, see me weirdly if I do this, are you?"

Rosalie crossed her arms and leveled something close to a disdainful look at Zoey—in that typically way of hers that was way more adorable than intimidating. Her blush gave the masquerade away.

"Believe me," Rosalie said. "When it comes to your perversion, there are no more bars to be lowered. Have your fun." She rolled her eyes. "Besides, this is still technically a boss fight. Do what you need to win."

Zoey grinned. "Cool." She focused back on Mel, who was diligently keeping her head forward, her own excited smile on her lips. She seemed to be trying to goad Rosalie into eye contact, but the flustered girl couldn't manage it.

"Don't worry if I start acting funny," Mel said. "Getting my brains scrambled means I might not be able to talk, or whatever."

That made Zoey pause, but Mel tilted her head and pointed at her ear, and if she wasn't perturbed, there was no reason for Zoey to be. "Come on. Let's see what you can do. If I can still form words, it means you're not trying hard enough."

Flushing, Zoey shuffled up, trying to ignore—or maybe delighting—in the way violet eyes and blue eyes watched her. Really. This was embarrassing enough without an audience. Especially one that seemed so interested.

She had to widen her stance, and Mel angle her head, to get herself to the proper level. Slowly, she guided her cock tip into the green gelatin of Mel's ear, pushing away long, thick locks of slime-hair to make access. She stared at the sight for a moment, her cock nudging up against a tiny earhole, and wondered if she was really going to do this.

Gripping Mel's forehead and the back of her head with either hand, Zoey pushed her hips forward. She guessed she was.

She met resistance. Even malleable as Mel's body was, this hole simply wasn't meant for entry. Zoey pushed harder. Mel whined as the pressure, and as the restrictive entry started to spread. Zoey sucked in a breath of air as tightness wrapped around her cock tip, Mel's ear slowly opening up. She urged her hips forward and helped push Mel's head into her cock.

Gasping, Zoey's tip popped in. It was so tight. Mel's ear squeezed her cock on all sides, so many times more cramped of a space than her pussy or ass. A shiver wracked her as she stared down at her cocktip floating an inch inside Mel's head. She was inside. Inside Mel's ear. So weird. But also so good?

"Woah," Mel said. "If you weren't so big, this would be so much … much …"

Mel's muscles went limp as Zoey pressed forward, her words abruptly cutting off.

"Much …" Mel slurred.

Zoey slid several inches deeper, getting her cock deep into Mel's head. She was vaguely alarmed at Mel's sudden loss of speech, but she'd been warned of that, and the texture of Mel's ear was almost overwhelmingly pleasurable. She couldn't stop if she wanted to. Panting, Zoey's hips worked back and forth, sliding her member around Mel's brains. There wasn't any blockage—Mel's anatomy was realistic in some ways, but not her head, apparently—but the feeling was still vastly different from anything else Zoey had experienced.

"So," Delta asked. "How's it feel?"

Zoey glanced up at her, and, face red from excitement, couldn't even find it in herself to be ashamed. "Pretty amazing. Kinda … bumpier than usual. And way tighter." She moaned as she worked into a faster pace. "Hard to describe it, exactly."

"Gonna try going all the way through?"

Zoey paused. She hadn't even considered that, for some reason. She was more than willing to try it out, though.

She pushed her hips forward, sinking her cock toward Mel's other earhole. Pressure once again assaulted her cock tip as she shoved her way through that restrictive opening, and Zoey's cock popped through, back into air.

For a moment, Zoey relished the sight. Penetrating Mel's head all the way through, her cock suspended in green gelatin. Strange, but erotic. Her life in general, these days.

"Now that's something," Delta said admiringly. "Get going. Let's see you stir her up."

Zoey didn't need to be told twice.

She worked into a rhythm. In long strokes, she penetrated inside and out of Mel's head, squelching her way through her tight earhole with each thrust. Gooey insides caressed her cock, and Zoey grunted and panted as she got into it. She adjusted position, gripping Mel even more firmly, who went further and further limp with each stroke stirring around her brains.

Zoey was admittedly a bit worried about how she seemed to be fucking the slimegirl into near unconsciousness, but Mel had warned her, and she couldn't stop if she wanted.

"Come share with me," Zoey grunted. "Let's fill her up together."

Delta, apparently, had been waiting for the request. She shuffled up eagerly, lining her cocktip up. Zoey took a brief second to admire the pale member jutting from between her foxgirl teammate's legs. That sight wouldn't ever get old—but for now, it was even more exciting for its newness.

Zoey watched Delta's face as she pushed into Mel's ear. Her eyebrows pressed down and her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, a shiver wracking her. An orange foxtail whipped left and right, showcasing how overwhelming the sensation was. Zoey sympathized.

Delta's cock slid into Mel's head, brushing against her own.

The two of them got to work. Their cocks rubbed against each other as they violently stirred Mel's brains around. Grunts, slaps, squelches, and panting filled the air. A limp slimegirl let her head be pumped into from two directions, still conscious, but only barely, and unable to form words or even keep her head up unsupported—Zoey and Delta had to hold it still as they slapped forcefully inside and out.

"C-Close," Delta said. "Same time?"

"Yeah. R-Ready too. Go ahead."

With Delta's cock rubbing against her own, she felt the moment the foxgirl's orgasm hit. Zoey gave in at the same time. The first thick white strings spilled into Mel's head from Delta's orgasm, and Zoey followed a moment later.

The two girls worked their hips slowly back and forth, caressing out two thicks payloads into the slimegirl's ears. Their cum mixed around, tinting the green girl white, strands floating around—and more and more ejecting by the second, the coaxing sensation of Mel's ears working out an even more potent payload than usual.

Finally expended, they pulled out and admired their handiwork. No longer supported, Mel collapsed into the grass, seeming dazed—even vacant-eyed. Honestly, Zoey felt close to how Mel looked; that had taken a lot out of her, too. She'd been squeezed dry.

She knelt down and inspected her, though. The total vacancy in her eyes was concerning, regardless of how she'd been warned. She shook Mel's shoulder. "Mel? All good?"

Fortunately, she received a response quick enough to prevent a panic, because after a violent twitch of her limbs, Mel's eyes started to clear.

"Oh … oh. Oh!" Mel shook the haze off slowly—or at least part of the haze. She pushed up and rubbed both sides of her head. "Oh, wow. You two really didn't go easy on me, huh?"

Zoey blushed at seeing all the sticky strings floating around inside Mel's head. "Um. Yeah. Couldn't help ourselves. Sorry?"

"Sorry?" Mel almost seemed offended at the word. "It was amazing." She paused. "Even if I can't remember most of it." She shakily stood. "Okay. That favor's payed for. But we're not remotely done."

Zoey hadn't thought they were. Mel wasn't nearly that satiable. This boss fight was far from over.

"You know," Delta said suddenly. "You're always acting like you have cum for brains, but now you really do."

Mel and Zoey paused.

Mel burst out laughing. Zoey shook her head in exasperation.

"Guess I have an excuse, now," Mel said. She stood, then threw herself at Delta, knocking the foxgirl over. Without even time for Delta to respond, the slimegirl had her lips wrapped around Delta's cock. With her ass sticking up in the air and waggling Zoey's way, Zoey could intuit what her job was.

And this event wouldn't be done then, either. Based on the last time Zoey had fought Mel, they still had five or six climaxes to work out. This slimegirl succubus was a definite handful.

Chapter 119

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It took a few more rounds, but Zoey and Delta fucked the slimegirl into submission. The solid, dark-green orb in her chest quickly turned red, then shattered, leaving her a half-formed mess. As the last time Zoey had defeated Mel, her mind was turned into as much of a sludge as her body. Getting fucked to the point of so-called defeat left her unable to move, and only half able to form words.

But in a good way. Mel looked like she'd been left out on a hot day, her sticky body melting into a puddle, but a very satisfied, well-fucked puddle. Honestly, Zoey felt a bit the same.

"Before you go," Mel mumbled. "Take this … wanted to give it to you…"

Holding out a hand, liquid green goo poured from Mel's hand, separating from the rest of her body. At a gesture from Mel, Zoey crouched down and took the glob of slime, thought was confused by the event.

"It's me," Mel said. "I can't leave my shard, but maybe a part of me can? Don't know," she mumbled, half to herself, her eyes fluttering. "Talking's … hard. Keep her well fed, okay?"

Zoey blinked as she took the words in. The puddle of goo was Mel? Right now, it was mostly formless, just green liquid. But that would change if she kept it well fed? And change how? As in, turn into a mini-Mel?

"Fed with what?" Zoey asked.

Mel gave her a look that suggested she was stupid.

"Right. Dumb question."

"And come visit in your dreams, here and there," Mel said. "Though I don't sleep much. Might be tricky. Okay … that's it …" she sighed contentedly. "Thank you again. Now, taking a nap."

With a last mumble of satisfaction, the goo-girl lost consciousness, her humanoid form almost fully dissolving into slime.

"Huh," Delta said. She crouched down next to Zoey and inspected the puddle of goo in Zoey's hands. "So it'll grow into a second Mel?"

"I guess?" Zoey asked. "I'll have to ask her, once she's less …"

"Fucked to mindlessness?"

"That."

Rosalie joined Zoey to the left, also crouching down. "Well," she said. "I'm glad we've apparently saved this friend of yours, but we didn't get many answers. And have something watching us, now? Something that eats shards? I feel like we've glossed over that."

"We're not glossing over anything, blondie," Delta said dryly. "We were just a little busy."

Rosalie huffed. "Regardless. What are we doing?"

"Let's get moving, first," Zoey said. "Get our gear back. We need something to hold mini-Mel, too." She tilted her cupped hands and shook them back and forth, watching the thick liquid jiggle. It was highly viscous; it refused to separate or spill between her fingers.

"I assume the chests are still under the lake," Rosalie said. "Is that going to be a problem?"

Zoey frowned, understanding the real question. Would the slime rejoin to the lake, if she brought it in? She doubted it."Think we're fine. Swimming's gonna be hard, though, with my hands full."

"Put it in your inventory?"

"Already tried," Zoey said. "Can't. It's a person, I guess? She's a person?" It was an unexpected event, and Zoey wasn't entirely sure how to talk or feel about it.

Delta said, "Kay, well, I'll tug you along, then. I can swim for two of us."

Rosalie stood. Instinctively, she offered a hand to help Delta up, who, after quirking an eyebrow, accepted it. Hilariously, Rosalie blushed at her casual show of camaraderie, then glared at Delta to make up for it. Zoey found the interaction cuter than she probably ought to.

"To our loot, then," Zoey said.

She couldn't help but glancing to the tree line, searching it, as if expecting to find their mysterious voyeur. Obviously, she didn't.

A short trip through the thick goo of the slime lake, and the squad of three emerged into a familiar loot-chamber, a shimmering black portal situated on the far wall—their exit back out into the Fractures.

After the devastating event of Rosalie and Delta getting dressed, and Zoey no longer getting to steal glances at them whenever she wanted, the three of them restocked their inventories with their gear. Shortly, they were ready to get going. Zoey placed mini-Mel—which was just a pile of formless green goo—into an alchemy-reagent collection jar, then tucked it into a satchel, since it couldn't go into her inventory. She was stuck carrying it around the normal way.

"None of our items are broken, like that remote vibrator is," Zoey commented. "That's good."

Rosalie made a noise of agreement. She'd had the same worry. Who knew what would happen to their items when stored inside a shard that was on the fritz?

"And Mel's gonna be fine, now?" Delta asked. She sounded genuinely concerned for the woman. Though she'd only just met Mel, the slimegirl had, apparently, made an impression. Which was fair, considering how many places she'd let Delta stick that tool of hers—which had disappeared by now—and how enthusiastically.

"As long as our guest follows," Zoey said. Or, hopefully. She was still confused on the details, there. Mel had only given her theories, and exactly what the shard-eater wanted, or what she even was, was up in the air.

"And do we have any guarantees of that?" Delta asked.

"I guess Mel will let me know. I'll check in with her in a dream, like she said."

"Right. You can do that. Pretty useful." Delta paused. "You know, we need to experiment. Wouldn't mind having you visit my dreams. What can we do with it?"

"There's a limit to how much you can change," Zoey said. "The fantasy has to stay mostly to what the target was already in."

"So if we want to do anything crazy, I have to get good at forcing myself to dream whatever I want," Delta said.

Zoey laughed. Of course that was the conclusion she made. "Yeah, I guess."

"Focus, please?" Rosalie asked. With everyone having gathered their gear, and gotten dressed, she gestured for them to step through the portal. "This guest of ours. We need to discuss her."

Zoey briefly considered returning to the surface of the shard and gathering some alchemy reagents, or otherwise exploring, but she thought it was best to get going. Mel needed to recover, and staying in a damaged shard just seemed unwise. Plus, they wanted to bait the shadow-creature out as soon as possible.

They exited the shard without ceremony, and after a briefly disorienting experience, the three girls were dropped into the middle of an arid landscape, sun beating down brightly from above.

"Good, it's not snow," Delta said, squinting at the sudden assault of light—as all of them were. She stretched widely, basking under the sun with a content look, and even after all of the events prior, Zoey couldn't help but sneak an admiring look at the way her shirt lifted up and revealed a hint of abs. Rosalie caught her, but as always, hardly seemed upset, just exasperated.

"But yeah," Delta said. "The guest. Let's see." She cupped her hands to her mouth, then shouted, "Hey! Cum vampire! You hungry yet?"

Rosalie pinched the bridge of her nose, and Zoey just laughed.

"I don't think it'll be that easy," Zoey said.

"That's a no?" Delta shouted into the empty air, ignoring Zoey. She shrugged. "More for me and blondie, I guess."

"Will you please take this seriously?" Rosalie asked. "The world is ending."

"Allegedly," Delta said. "The world is allegedly ending."

"You saw the broken item. And the warnings of Ephythithys? There's surely more of them."

"More cum vampires?" Delta said. "Zoey's really going to have her hands full." She placed a hand above her forehead to make shade, then peered around. "I say we go this way." She pointed at a seemingly random direction.

Or, maybe not random, because Rosalie nodded in agreement and set off. Zoey followed, mentally bracing herself for another long trip through the wilderness.

"Okay, but taking it seriously," Delta said. "We're lacking information big time. Only real way forward, the way I see it, is baiting the vampire out. Having a talk."

"Mel couldn't find a way to talk with her, so how could we?" Rosalie asked. "She had to use Zoey's … substance … just to get her to show herself."

"And we have an infinite supply of Zoey-cum," Delta said, not half as hesitant to be crude as Rosalie. "Goddess-certified fresh, always on tap."

Rosalie growled at the ridiculous phrasing, and Delta smirked in return, pleased she'd gotten a rise out of the blonde—not that she ever had problems with that.

"Still don't think it'll be that easy," Zoey said. "Clearly she doesn't want to be seen." She remembered the horrified expression on the woman's face, seeing Zoey and them watching her—at Mel's trick having worked. Then the way she'd vanished into nothingness. "Don't think it'll work the second time around."

"And we're assuming she did follow us," Rosalie pointed out. "That's not guaranteed."

As one, the three of them peered around, seeking out a mysterious follower. Of course, they saw nothing but arid landscape.

"Well," Delta said. "We'll do our best to make her talk. If we can't, we'll look for information some other way." She tilted her head. "You know, maybe those cultists were right. The ones going on about how the Fractures are decaying? Maybe it's this."

Rosalie didn't immediately dismiss the idea, though she seemed doubtful. "Cultists and doom-sayers are as old as time."

"It's some kind of start," Delta said.

"Are you suggesting we volunteer? Join them? A cult?"

"Not necessarily. But check it out. It's the only starting point I can think of."

Rosalie couldn't argue that, though it seemed like she wanted to, merely because Delta had suggested it. Eventually, she nodded.

"It'd be a start," she said.

Chapter 120

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Sol knew she was being played by that slimegirl, but that did nothing to change the reality of the situation. She couldn't let that walking producer of literally divine energy—the most incredibly potent essence she'd ever tasted—simply walk away and be lost to her. She had no choice but to follow the woman out of the shard and into the Fractures.

And it was for more reasons than just personal interest. The dark-haired woman was proof that her suspicions were correct: that there was, indeed, a second deity interested in this world. More importantly, one that didn't seem interested in abandoning the decaying realm to its fate. The exact details of who and why, she hadn't a clue. But for the good of her people, she needed to investigate. It truly wasn't just her fascination in the party of three; this was as much a practical and selfless mission as anything.

The problem would be meeting Mother's directives. She couldn't reveal herself. Her people's strategy was fairly consistent: gnaw on the edges of a world, weakening it over years or even decades, before swooping in and finishing things off when the world's energy had been greatly dampened.

It wasn't only a tactic to mitigate how many losses they would take in the resulting violence, but sometimes a downright necessity. While Sol's people were far stronger than the average resident of this world, not only were there many times more of them than they, but the strongest of these individuals also seemed to be enormously powerful. These pocket-dimension shards were exceptional at imparting latent energy onto their delvers: the residents of this world could grow strong enough to cause even the elites among the Famished problems. Not Mother, of course, but Mother was bound by the rules of all divinities.

So revealing her people's presence was something that couldn't happen. It was Mother's highest directive.

That said, clearly there were extenuating circumstances. And Sol could keep an eye on these three women without revealing herself—or at least revealing herself in truth. As much as secrecy was needed, so was discovering what was going on with another Prime's involvement.

She would infiltrate their society and report back later.

It was, even she could admit, something of an excuse. She'd wanted to explore more of this society since arriving to this world—a desire she had for any world her people invaded, but especially this one, being so much more interesting than the others.

She'd always been more curious than her brothers and sisters. They were too occupied with their hunger—and so was Sol, to a degree, though by the standards of a Famished, she supposed she had far better control of herself. The excessive curiosity made hunger somewhat easier to stave off.

Plus, her thoughts were cleared after having been so thoroughly fed. That delightful load the slimegirl had poured into her mouth would last her days. She'd have to figure out how to extract more in the future, but for now, she was satiated. Divine essence went a long way.

The question was, how would she pull it off? Keeping her true nature hidden while infiltrating their society? There was a reason it wasn't something her people usually attempted.

She imagined she'd have to masquerade as a human, and in a more direct manner than usual. While her people excelled at stealth, lurking in the shadows might not be the most tenable option. She was more than capable of evading the notice of these relatively low-powered individuals—though the blonde woman concerned her somewhat, especially as she would continue to grow and feed off the shards and environment like all residents of this world did—but Sol didn't have total confidence in remaining invisible to other more powerful individuals. And since they were presumably headed back to their proper society, there would surely be those she couldn't deal with so easily.

Hence, a more traditional sort of stealth. Masquerading as a human and integrating rather than relying on her abilities to stay hidden. It wasn't something the Famished normally did, and especially not Sol, being the Fourth Daughter and prone to more restrictions, but again, there were extenuating circumstances going on—and Sol thought she could manage it. Though young, she thought she did have a better grasp on alien minds than most of her brothers and sisters.

It would still be tricky, though.

Her plan formulated as she followed the three women across the Fractures. Watching them was endlessly intriguing. Sol had cognitively absorbed a crude, if notable, portion of human culture upon taking their form, but it was unrefined and riddled with holes, so observation would do wonders for further learning.

That statement became doubly true as they reached the first outpost. Sol couldn't help the sinking feeling in her stomach as she ignored Mother's instructions by so freely exploring the tiny settlement, but exhilaration outweighed it. She snooped around and observed the various people in their day-to-day life. Most were settling down for the night, with the trek to the outpost having taken several hours and the sun setting in the meantime.

As for the party of three she was stalking—Zoey, Rosalie, and Delta—Sol watched them with just as much interest, if not more. Their nighttime activities weren't so relaxing. Sol watched that event with great interest. It seemed mostly focused on the blonde woman, with Zoey and Delta teasing her about having been 'pent up' from not joining in with the slimegirl.

Sol watched from the shadows, and, to her embarrassment and small dismay, a large portion of the event seemed to be Zoey and Delta goading Rosalie about how she was probably being watched, and wasn't that exciting? The blonde woman seemed to have mixed feelings, but it didn't stop her from begging to have the taller woman's cock stuffing inside her, or spreading her legs for what Sol could assume was her own viewing pleasure, especially as the event got more and more heated.

Sol would admit the teasing and taunting from Zoey and Delta on how their 'spectator should come join in' was quite nearly effective on her end, consequences and Mother's directives or not. But she somehow forced herself to stay hidden and instead satisfied herself with watching.

Though seeing so much divine essence pouring into the blonde woman's pussy, who wastefully just let it fill her up rather than consuming it, was a source of no small amount of incredulity from Sol. She knew humans couldn't digest the essence in the way she could, but it still seemed like some sort of sacrilege to waste it in that way.

The blonde woman had at least enjoyed it in a more carnal manner. Still, Sol's heart hurt seeing it drip out, then shortly be cleaned up by towels. Satiated or not, she wouldn't have minded another snack—she would have made so much better use of Zoey's finish than the blonde woman had.

More than being fed, too, she had wanted to join in for other reasons. She was unusually attuned to this body's emotions; lust was shockingly stronger inside her than most other forms she'd adopted. And that was only growing more true as she spent time around the champion of the lust goddess. Sol was vaguely concerned about what that meant, but she couldn't find it in herself to see it as a bad thing.

The next day, Zoey and her team continued the trek forward with the help of a guide they enlisted. Hours of quick travel later, they'd arrived to a stunning city suspended in the canopies and branches of gargantuan trees. Sol's exploration of their society began in earnest, and she also settled on what her future plans would be.

While revealing herself to the goddess's champion was off the table for now—though she doubted she'd keep to that conviction forever—she needed to get a better handle on this world and its various races. How else would she properly masquerade herself or lie to Zoey and her team, when she eventually decided on how to handle that situation? Subterfuge could only be learned through experience.

To help with her future missions, she rummaged around inside the three girl's inventories. It was a rather tricky feat, sliding into that dimensional working, but she had experimented with it while they were sleeping, and none of the three seemed to be aware she was doing it. She didn't have as great of hopes managing that against more powerful people, but these three were, while not outrageously low-powered, far from the strongest this world had to offer, and so she could get away with some things she couldn't elsewhere.

She borrowed a few items from Zoey. Namely, some of those potions she'd given to Delta to grow that appendage between her legs. If Sol was going to explore this 'city of Treyhull', then she might as well have a few tools to make the event more interesting. She was a curious girl. And in the same manner they had teased Rosalie about, Sol was also quite 'worked up', after all the events of the past two days.

She'd already decided to ignore Mother's instructions, so she might as well enjoy herself. A new weapon to aid her in her exploration of Treyhull would be quite welcome, in that regard.

Chapter 121

Chapter Text

With everything they'd learned, a long discussion on future plans was in order. Fortunately, the many-hour trek back to Treyhull afforded them plenty of time to do so.

Zoey, Rosalie, and Delta trailed far behind their guide, who stalwartly forged ahead, in order to buy some privacy for what were obviously rather sensitive discussions. Yelling about the end of the world to some random Fractures guide would hardly result in anything truly bad happening, if Zoey had to guess, simply because they'd be thought insane, but still, by principle it was the sort of thing they ought to keep close to their chests.

"First order of business," Zoey said. "Are we staying in Treyhull, or heading straight to Mantle?"

They'd initially planned on staying in the treehouse city for a while longer, but with looming threats like the 'cum vampire'—Delta's term had unfortunately stuck—they'd picked up in their shadows, and her and her people's—if there were indeed many, rather than just the one—inscrutable goals in this world, it might be time to accept their vacation had cut off early, and that heading for Mantle straight away was the better plan.

"It's complicated," Rosalie sighed. "There's obvious reasons to do so. This isn't something that can be treated lightly. Shards decaying? Items unlinking from whatever system they operate on? A fundamental breakdown of how our world works is horrifying. News of that does need to be brought to those who can best handle it."

"But there's also selfish reasons not to rush to Mantle," Zoey finished for her. "There's Maddy, Sabina, and you—you still want to get to fourth advancement before returning home."

Delta snorted. "Gotta show off. Return home the hero."

Rosalie flushed, and Zoey was amused to see that there might have been more truth in that than statement than even Zoey had expected. "It's not that simple," Rosalie said. "It'd be a demonstration of Zoey's usefulness. My family is … difficult. Having proof of significant progress will smooth over any compunctions they have with my choice of teammates."

"So it's only a bit about the ego," Delta grinned. "Well, that'll help with Zoey, then. What about me?"

"What about you?"

"Yeah, you're right. Don't need anything special. I'm great with parents. They'll love me."

By Rosalie's expression, her raised eyebrows and vague amusement, Zoey could tell that probably wasn't going to be true. Delta had a certain charm to her, but one that would mesh in whatever high society Rosalie came from? That was yet to be seen.

"It comes down to how urgent all this is, I guess," Delta said. "Can we afford to put it off for another week?"

"No way of knowing," Zoey said. That was the big problem. "But from the sounds of it, this isn't something brand new. It's not a horrendous rush."

"Hopefully," Rosalie said, still chewing over the real answer to the question—what their plans would be.

"Wish our friend would come and fill us in," Delta said loudly into the air, pointedly glaring at random places in the distance. "We'd pay handsomely for the information. Well, Zoey would." Her fox-tail swished in amusement as she smirked at Zoey.

Unfortunately, their attempts to bait their visitor out had been fruitless. She wasn't even a hundred percent positive that the vampire was following them at all. Only an itching paranoia that they were being watched suggested Mel's bait had worked. She'd check using a dream potion later. Still, Delta seemed more than happy to tease the invisible spectator with bribes of Zoey's cum.

Though the foxgirl actually seemed somewhat miffed she wasn't taking them up on their offer. Not just because they did need the information on what was going on, but because Delta wanted to, at a guess, have some fun with her. To be fair, so did Zoey—the quick glimpse she'd caught when Mel had baited her out had set a good impression. Plus, a woman who seemed to literally get drunk on cum? That sounded like a good time.

Like usual, though, the bait failed, and so the conversation continued with only a short lull. They'd have to come up with something smarter to draw her out—or maybe they just needed to wait for her to get hungry enough.

"I guess that maybe it's not treating this with due urgency," Rosalie said, "but another week to properly convince Maddy, for you to work on your combat readiness, and to charge your experience boost so I can hopefully hit fourth advancement on the last shard before leaving for Mantle."

"That thing's really so amazing," Delta sighed suddenly. "I can't believe I hit third advancement from a first level shard. Barely did anything down there. You've convinced me about the goddess stuff—no way a normal class could be that strong."

"And we can maybe have Fe look into the broken item?" Zoey asked. "Or is that a bad idea?"

Rosalie frowned. "I think it's better we have my family's connections handle that."

"Fe's trustworthy," Delta disagreed. "And it's a week of wasted time otherwise. Maybe it'll break entirely if we wait."

Rosalie pursed her lips, but clearly couldn't disagree with the second half—though Zoey sensed she disagreed at least partially with the first. "We'll let her look at it," Rosalie conceded, "but spare her the full details."

"That the world's ending? Yeah, didn't plan on it."

"So we'll spend one more week sorting our business out," Zoey said. "Not rush to Mantle."

"I think it's better if we draw the vampire out, anyway," Rosalie said. "If a week passes and she's still staying hidden, then we'll have no choice. But dealing with that mess here, rather than at Mantle, is vastly preferable."

"That's the plan, then."

Check out the item, deal with the vampire, and handle other mundane business—Maddy, Sabina, and continuing to train.

They arrived early the next morning to Treyhull. After getting rooms at the Guild, they went straight to Fe. Beyond the broken item being one of their only clues into what might be happening to this world, and thus the most urgent, it was also time-restricted—even a brilliant woman like Fe would need some days to carefully experiment with such a bizarre piece of equipment.

The sheepgirl was, naturally, aghast. The mangled insertion of information that came with [Inspect] was effectively an eldritch horror to locals of this world, Zoey could infer from Rosalie and Delta's reactions, and the effect seemed twice as pronounced on Fe, who studied artifacts for a living.

Fortunately, it wasn't just horror, but an equal amount of fascination. Fe practically begged to study it, all fees waived. Zoey made sure to emphasize that it was dangerous, and that they really didn't know what was going on with it, but it was a pointless warning—Fe seemed practically offended to be told that, with how glaringly obvious the item's instability was.

In terms of filling Fe in, they only told her they suspected something strange was going on with the item's energy—that it might have been drained or distorted by some powerful force. Fe questioned them on that, but after some deflection, could tell they were hiding things, and while curious, didn't press. She promised to keep the item a secret and to study it carefully.

She inquired over any regular items they might have found, but unfortunately, this hadn't been that kind of trip. They hadn't wanted to spend more time in the broken shard than necessary—it was clearly unstable, and any items that came from there would be suspect.

Zoey hadn't even followed through on gathering alchemy ingredients, like the vines' aphrodisiac, because of her worry. Though maybe further research specimens for Fe and Sabina to pour over would have been useful. Regardless, they'd been eager to get out of there. Mel needed to start repairing herself, and they'd had a vampire they'd wanted to bait out of the shard as soon as possible.

After handling the item, the squad of three broke up to handle their own respective businesses. Despite the craziness of the past day, it seemed they would be reverting to their previous schedule. Zoey was admittedly concerned about the lack of urgency, but they were certainly planning on handling the issues that had cropped up, and weren't just ignoring it.

On Zoey's docket, Sabina was up next. She found the alchemist in her workshop, unsurprisingly toiling over a work bench with her usual intense focus. The woman had completely forgone the pretense of running an outward facing shop by this point; the sign was turned closed and the curtains drawn, seeming nearly abandoned. The door was unlocked, at least, and Sabina clearly heard her coming, because she was looking Zoey's way when she swung around the corner into her laboratory proper. She'd also, of course, announced herself with a tentative call.

"Good," the stern gray-eyed woman said on seeing her, not sounding surprised in the slightest. "I was wondering when you'd be back." Rummaging into a lab pocket, she pulled out a vial and tossed it to Zoey. "Drink this."

"Good to see you too," Zoey said with some amusement. Sabina's no-frills behavior was as endearing as always, and the way she paused, then inclined her head in proper greeting after a second, realizing she'd skipped a step of social nicety, was agonizingly cute.

She inspected the potion.

[Potion of Duality: Two weapons are better than one.

Zoey paused. "Wait. Does this mean what I think it does?"

"Catalyzed from the twinrose reagent you brought me earlier," Sabina said. "And yes. It grows a second cock."

Wow.

That was, uh, a lot to take in.

Then, Sabina's words hit her. "Wait, you want me to drink it? Now?"

"I need to gather further ingredients," Sabina said. "You've been gone. I'm running low. Constant experimentation burns through supplies." The older woman glanced at her, something approaching a smirk on her lips. "It's my understanding most people would be delighted at such a welcome-back."

Zoey paused, then grinned. She vanished her pants and her portal-panties—of which Rosalie was the current owner of the linking plate—to reveal her bare lower half. Sabina glanced at her exposed member with vague interest, though she kept her usual passivity. Zoey downed the potion and threw the vial into her inventory.

"Delighted," Zoey said. "Yeah, that's one way to put it."

Chapter 122

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The transformation only took a few moments, but the sensation was a bit disorienting. As when Delta had grown her own equipment, several loud, rather inappropriate noises escaped Zoey as she wiggled in place, having to rest against a nearby counter to stay standing. Zoey thought the experience might be even more intense for her, since creating a second weapon of her particular size took some additional effort.

Before she knew it, not only was she the wielder of a single fourteen-inch girl cock, but a second had joined it.

"Well?" Sabina said. "Come here. Let me see." She stayed at her workstation, carefully measuring and distributing ingredients, but an interested glance toward her told Zoey she was invested in what was going on, for all her stoicism might suggest otherwise.

Happy to show off, Zoey approached, her two members stiff and at attention. They were stacked on top of each other, which was how Zoey had hoped it would be. The ideas were already spinning around in her head. What would this be like, with Rosalie and Delta laying on top of each other? Even thinking about it made her dizzy. Both cocks had a bead of precum leaking from their tips in anticipation.

Though she supposed thinking about other girls when Sabina was here was a bit rude. She pushed those thoughts away. Instead, other ideas intruded. Two cocks for two holes. If her partners had thought they'd been stuffed full already, how would they fare against two of these monsters? Would there be enough space? Just how much of a bulge would it create? Zoey was intensely interested in finding out.

"They're not identical," Sabina noted. "Come here."

Zoey did as she was told. Sabina stripped off her gloves, ignoring her previous work, then bent forward and inspected each of Zoey's cocks with a keen eye. The clinical nature was, like usual, as exciting as if Sabina had been drooling over them, though Zoey wasn't sure why. She was given the impression of a pretty doctor giving her a less than appropriate inspection. She gripped each of Zoey's cocks and turned them side to side, cataloging the result of the potion.

"Not identical," she confirmed. "Veins in different places. Marginal curve variance. Nearly identical volume, though, from initial appraisal." She leveled a serious look Zoey's way. "More importantly, I'm hoping for double output. We have collections to make up for."

"I've been studying," Zoey said with a grin. "So hopefully I can get pretty far in the quiz." She hesitated. "Well, couldn't study that much, but definitely here and there." There'd been downtime during the trip. She'd managed to do some reading while plodding along back to Treyhull, though it wasn't the easiest task. She would quiz herself while walking and reference the alchemy book to verify.

"A diligent student," Sabina said approvingly. "Come. I've got something else for you."

Zoey was instantly intrigued by that statement, considering the previous 'something' had been a potion that doubled her up on cocks, and she followed Sabina out of her laboratory and up to her living quarters—and finally to her special room. The usual racks and shelves of lewd equipment had her heart slamming in her chest, her two cocks throbbing in anticipation. But more importantly, where the adjustable metal chair usually sat, a different device had been arranged. Sabina's plan today wasn't, apparently, to strap her down and deviously milk her, but rather, something else.

The structure came up to her hips and had a large cylindrical component resting on four bolted-down legs. A pink, bumpy opening was at the mouth of the device, and it had two handled bars for grabbing onto. It didn't take a genius to tell what it was meant for. An extraction device that Zoey could stand and hump herself into, emptying herself into the plastic-looking bulge at the other end.

"Wow," Zoey said.

Sabina tsked, sounding amused. "That's for if you do well," she scolded. "Don't forget. Progressive rewards. Keep you focused on your studies."

"The rewards are supposed to be you," Zoey said. She coughed. "Not that it doesn't seem fun," she said, glancing at the toy. "But it's definitely you I'm interested in."

Sabina's cheeks colored at Zoey's bluntness, and that had been exactly the point. She'd bludgeoned one reserved girl with compliments, and it had worked wonderfully—so why not two? Sabina was certainly not Rosalie, but that particular strategy, she felt would be effective here.

"Well," Sabina said. "We can work me into the event somehow, then. Perhaps I'll lay on top of it and you can use your imagination." Her composure had recovered quickly, ignoring Zoey's bluntness, and she turned an immaculate, quirked black eyebrow Zoey's way. "Worry about getting that far in the quiz, first, ambitious student of mine. Here, take a seat." She gestured at a chair tucked against the wall.

Zoey obeyed and sat. To her delight, Sabina followed, straddling her lap, and sandwiching Zoey's two cocks against her ass. She was still fully dressed and in her lab coat, but Zoey knew the first quiz questions would quickly rectify that.

"Waiting and ready," Zoey said, grinning up at her. "Let's hear it." Without her hands strapped down, she couldn't help but resting them on Sabina's hips. The urge to adventure further was pretty intense—especially with her stern teacher straddling her bare cocks—but she kept herself in check. The foreplay of the quiz was, honestly, nearly as much fun as the rewards.

Like usual, the first question Sabina asked her was as simple as they came: something Zoey should have known simply from Sabina's first introductory lesson. Her reward was a stripped lab coat and Sabina's body on display. Her lacy black bra and underwear were something that made Zoey miss the second question, which Sabina scolded her for but secretly seemed pleased by.

Zoey ran her hands across Sabina's stomach, thighs, and hips as she followed up with the second question, and surprisingly, Sabina didn't stop her. Zoey suspected that for all Sabina seemed to be less affected by lust than most girls, she'd also been looking forward to this. Maybe some experiments with lewd ingredients had gotten her worked up at some point, even. Surely playing with aphrodisiacs and sex potions all day had to have some accidental results.

Still, Zoey didn't let her hands wander too freely: Sabina was letting her enjoy her body more than usual, but she knew she was bound by the usual rules. Answer questions, get rewards.

The fourth question was where the real fun began. Rather than Zoey's hands doing the exploring, Sabina herself became adventurous. Lifting her hips up to free the two impressive members trapped and throbbing beneath her ass, she wiggled Zoey's cocks up between their bodies and started stroking away. In a rare display, Sabina was even the one to become distracted—she stroked and rubbed Zoey's two cocks, sandwiching them together and two-handing it, and otherwise enjoying herself as she explored, and only two minutes later did Sabina blink, then look up at a smirking Zoey and realize she'd forgotten to ask the next question.

She took it in her usual unruffled manner, though did seem somewhat surprised at herself. Sabina wasn't the kind of woman to lose focus often. Two fourteen-inch girl cocks, though, was apparently enough of a fascination to break that trend.

She asked the fourth question, teasing and stroking the ridges of both of Zoey's cock heads with her fingers, and Zoey couldn't help but think that was outrageously unfair. Having two members pleasured was, in fact, twice as difficult to resist, and her only saving grace seemed to be that how much pleasure she could tolerate also seemed to have doubled. She briefly wondered whether a climax meant they'd both go off, or just the one that'd been taken care of.

As expected, question four indicated things were ramping up, and Zoey needed to chew over her answer before giving it. Of course, if she hadn't had Sabina on her lap, twisting her wrists and doing her best to chase away Zoey's higher-cognitive abilities, then she could probably have answered in a much smoother manner. Not that she was complaining, but she did feel like this arrangement made her seem slightly less versed on the topic of alchemy than she actually was. She was no expert, she knew, but she had been putting good effort in.

Satisfied with Zoey's response, Sabina stood. "Okay, then. You can play with the big toy. You've earned it. Come here."

She stood and swayed her hips over to the center of the room, and Zoey eagerly followed. And she definitely wasn't imagining it—she could tell Sabina was looking forward to Zoey slapping her hips into that thing as much as she herself was. Her stoic teacher was a bit worked up and wanted to watch Zoey have fun. Great news.

She wondered, briefly, what the next rewards would be. How was Sabina going to 'work herself into the event', assuming she kept getting questions right?

Chapter 123

Chapter Text

"Let me get you properly ready," Sabina said, squirting lubricant into her hands. She worked the liquid around in her palms, then gripped both of Zoey's cocks and spread it in with long strokes. She squeezed and rubbed each of Zoey's members against one another, helping further work it in.

The sensation was pretty foreign, having her own cock rubbing against her own cock, and she shivered under the assault. That it was Sabina who was stroking her was, of course, also a source of the compromising waves of pleasure.

Thankfully, Zoey was becoming somewhat of an expert in resisting her building climax. Her days as a quickshot were fortunately over—except in the most extreme cases. Which, admittedly, this might qualify as, having both a second appendage and being played with by Sabina.

"There," Sabina said, satisfied at having lubricated Zoey up. She stepped aside, and with a hand on Zoey's ass, pushed her forward toward the contraption.

"Where'd you get this thing, anyway?" Zoey asked with some amusement and some anticipation. "Doesn't seem like the usual sex store fare."

"Custom built. Rush order."

"Just for me?" Zoey laughed. "You're too caring."

Sabina's lips quirked, then she gripped each of Zoey's cocks and pointed them toward the waist-high contraption's entrance. Sabina guided her in, pressing her ass with her other hand to urge Zoey to take a step forward.

Zoey shivered as her two cock tips rubbed against the soft, bumpy material that adorned the inside of the metal device. She grabbed each of the handlebars and spread her stance, getting herself better situated. Sabina was just as eager. More so, possibly, because she moved behind Zoey, then pressed her pelvis into Zoey's ass and forcibly pushed Zoey all the way in. Zoey gasped as her cocks were squeezed in by pleasurable material, all fourteen inches surrounded in less than a moment.

"It was meant for one," Sabina said. "That potion was a recent development. But I assume the tight fit is a good thing?"

"Y-Yeah," Zoey stuttered out, shuddering at the extremely cramped hole Sabina had pushed her into. One thick girl dick pulsed against the other, heads rubbing against both each other and bumpy material, and Zoey realized that her earlier musings about having become a pro at 'lasting' might have been a lie.

It was especially unfair how Sabina wrapped her arms around Zoey's stomach, then started pulling her out of the contraption—then pushed back forward with her own hips, guiding Zoey in.

"I set the pace," Sabina said. "If you start thrusting by yourself, you fail."

"I take it back," Zoey gasped. "Not a caring teacher. A wicked one."

"Question five," Sabina said, sounding pleased at Zoey's response. "And make sure to think it over. Don't get distracted, now."

Sabina set a slow, luxurious pace, gently tugging on Zoey's stomach to unsheathe her, with her tits pressed into Zoey's back, then a firm pressure of her pelvis on Zoey's ass to bury her all the way back in. Each long, slow stroke in the cramped space, and guided by Sabina, had white-hot sparks of pleasure dancing across her body.

Behind her, Sabina tutted. Two firm taps against Zoey's bare stomach brought her back to reality. "I said focus," her teacher scolded. "Don't you want to go faster?"

"One more time?" Zoey groaned out, realizing she'd, again, missed whatever the question had been.

This time, she managed to hear and understand the words that came out of Sabina's mouth. Through great effort she found a reply. As expected of the progressing difficulty of the quiz, it wasn't just distraction that posed a threat, but that Sabina was working into questions that brushed against the edges of her knowledge.

Zoey got the sense both of them were equally pleased she'd got it right. "Adequate," she said, which might not be praise from many others, but coming from Sabina, Zoey knew it was, "so here. Your reward." Sabina unwrapped her arms from Zoey's waist, then swung a leg over the contraption and climbed on top of it, straddling the metal while facing Zoey. She scooted forward, then leaned back and rested her heels on Zoey's hips. Zoey went dizzy at the sight—at Sabina's spread legs. And especially at Sabina's next words. "And you can remove these." She tugged on her panties' waistband.

Zoey didn't need to be told twice. She tugged Sabina's panties down, baring her teacher's pussy. For a long moment, she simply admired it. Freshly shaven, the desire to reach out and play with Sabina was indescribably intense. Her cocks throbbed in longing. She wanted so desperately to bury herself in her teacher and rut like an animal.

"My, that's a nearly predatory expression on your face," Sabina said, sounding amused. "You aren't imagining anything too uncouth, I hope?"

The instinct was too potent to ignore—she needed to channel her arousal in some way, else she'd lose control. Something close to a growl escaped her throat, and she grabbed Sabina's hips and tugged the woman closer to her, so her bared pussy pressed against Zoey's stomach. In a desperate, animalistic motion, she pulled back fourteen inches, then slammed forward back into the machine.

The assembly rattled at the impact, and already Zoey had pulled back for another vicious slap. It wasn't Sabina's pussy, but with both her cocks wrapped in a too-tight space, sliding around and against each other, it was enough to satiate her in some small way. She admired the way Sabina's tits bounced with each impact, and the surprise in her eyes.

"It's a sturdy device," Sabina said, "but I'm not sure it can hold up to a wayfarer, Zoey."

Zoey gripped Sabina's waist harder and picked up speed. The metal legs holding the machine groaned and complained at her rapid movements, the abuse she delivered as she humped desperately into its tight depths. Getting to grab Sabina's hips and watch her body bounce with each slap of her hips was almost intoxicating. The older woman slid across the metal cylinder, being pushed with each impact, only to be pulled back forward by Zoey's firm grip.

"Next question," Zoey growled. "And I want your thighs if I get it right." She couldn't settle just for using her imagination. She wanted to feel Sabina in some way.

"I don't think that's how this works," Sabina said, raising an eyebrow.

Zoey replied only in the form of picking up speed, her hips shoving back and forth with primal need.

"But I suppose I can make an exception," Sabina eventually said, shivering in an uncharacteristically telling display. Zoey losing control was having an effect on her.

The question that followed nearly made Zoey laugh. It had no business coming this late into one of Sabina's quizzes.

"Going easy on me?" Zoey said. "Maybe you want to feel me, too." Spurred on, Zoey slowed down her frantic humping and ran both her hands across Sabina's thighs, then across her pelvis creases, her thumbs brushing dangerously close to her exposed pussy. It was by far the most daring she'd been, and Sabina shivered a second time. "You want to feel me between your thighs. My hips slapping into you."

"Answer the question," Sabina said simply.

Zoey did. It was easier than the previous one, barely a struggle even in her addled state. Sabina nodded in satisfaction before she'd turned around so her stomach was on the metal of the device, then started shuffling down. Zoey helped situate her, and soon, her teacher's soft thighs were dangling off the edge, perfectly lined up to the machine. Zoey grabbed each of them, then pressed them together, sandwiching her two cocks between them.

The agonizing softness, and having Sabina's ass pressing into her stomach, laid out across a machine and ready to be thigh-fucked, was too much for Zoey. She grunted and got to work, the arousal taking control of her entirely. If her movements had been eager before, now they were frantic. Zoey's two cocks slid between her teacher's thighs and inside the tight pressure of the contraption, and it completely erased her thoughts. Grunts, moans, and slaps filled the air, along with the creaking of metal, as Zoey pistoned her hips with total desperation.

Her climax built moment by moment, and she was vaguely aware of Sabina trying to ask the next question in the series, but even her teacher seemed to realize the futility in continuing. She laid atop the machine and let Zoey use her.

The desire to pull out of the toy and claim Sabina's exposed ass and pussy was almost overwhelming, but she of course fought it away—however difficult. She couldn't completely restrain herself, though, and her hands wandered off the handlebars and started exploring Sabina's body. Her teacher didn't protest that, and Zoey fondled her underneath her bra, tweaking and playing with her nipples as Zoey panted and moaned, climax quickly building. Her cocks twitched inside their confines, and she could tell she didn't have much longer.

"Here it comes," Zoey murmured, bent over and humping desperately. "Here's your load. You ready?"

Sabina turned and looked at her. Even the stoic woman had found a blush, by this point; her thighs being rutted into so frantically, and Zoey's lower stomach slapping into her raised ass, was something even she couldn't keep a straight demeanor through. "More than ready," Sabina murmured back, gray eyes locked to hers, happy, like usual, to indulge Zoey—to play into the fantasy. "Go ahead and fill your teacher's tight pussy up. Stuff her womb with your hot cream. It's your reward for being such a good student."

It really was criminal how eager the woman was to say such phrases—especially with her usual cool composure. It completely took Zoey apart.

She groaned, then, cocks spasming, slapped viciously forward one last time, choosing to believe wholeheartedly it was Sabina's pussy her cocks were buried into, and not just the collection device. Her two members seized, and magma rolled through her veins as her climax crashed through her.

String after string burst into the plastic-like tip at the far end of the machine, and slow, long strokes helped work out the payload. She squeezed down on Sabina's thighs and worked her cocks between them, using her teacher's legs to extract as much pleasure as she could. Sabina suffered through it with a blush and a faint sense of exasperation—tolerating her student, as always. Why did that do so much for Zoey?

Finally, her muscles turned to jello, Zoey pulled out of both the device and Sabina's thighs.

"Alright," Zoey said after a few long moments of recovery, still lightheaded, and struggling to stay standing. "What was the question, again?"

Chapter 124

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The quiz took a sharp spike in difficulty upward, Sabina apparently wanting her thighs to have been today's ultimate prize. Zoey obviously didn't have a problem with that, especially when she got to use them one more time before the event was over.

The milking completed, Sabina inspected her payload, seeming pleased. "It does provide double output," she mused. "Keeping well supplied won't be much of a problem, it seems."

"Hope that doesn't mean less sessions," Zoey joked.

"There's no such thing as too much of a valuable reagent," Sabina said. "Especially when you might be disappearing for days or weeks as a wayfarer. Besides, the quizzes are as much to keep you working diligently as collecting a resource."

Zoey snorted. "It's doing the job, then."

She was half tempted to stick her nose in an alchemy book and simply study until her brain was mush, if it meant she'd finally get to go inside Sabina. Her thighs had been amazing, but the slow ramping-up that Sabina was teasing her with had Zoey almost aching whenever she thought of doing more. Even if she couldn't use her pussy, she wanted to at least try Sabina's throat.

Her thoughts were wandering, so she coughed and chased them away. Hadn't she just been milked dry twice? Or even four times, technically, with the double-weapon she'd previously been wielding?

"I assume you came for lessons?" Sabina asked. "Or do you have business to take care of? You did just return from an expedition."

The two of them had cleaned up and returned downstairs to Sabina's laboratory. She had resumed whatever reagent-preparation task she'd been working on prior to Zoey's arrival.

"I've got nothing super pressing," Zoey said. "So yeah. Lessons. And I also wanted to talk more about the business."

Sabina bobbed her head. "I've handled that while you were gone. I assumed you wouldn't mind."

"Oh? Handled how?"

"The tedious administrative tasks, mostly," Sabina said. "I've found and rented a location in the red light district. The fees were moderately high, but I'm certain that won't matter, considering the profit we expect to turn."

"You've been busy." Zoey was impressed—though she supposed she should have expected Sabina to work quick. She took her professional life seriously. In fact, Zoey wasn't sure how much of a 'personal' life Sabina really had. Certainly some, as the room filled with sex toys suggested, but at the same time, she was almost always working, as far as Zoey knew.

"I also got in contact with that friend of yours," Sabina added. "Adrienne."

That part caught Zoey even more by surprise. "You did?"

"Indeed. She'll be here in an hour or two to discuss details. It's fortuitous you returned from your trip when you did—I think you'd handle the hiring process better than I."

Zoey wouldn't exactly call Adrienne a friend. They'd had a single brief interaction. Still, Delta had suggested her, and Zoey would rather hire someone who she was at least peripherally aware of, rather than going through the ordeal of finding a stranger.

Plus, considering the details to the business, Adrienne might be a perfect fit. A saleswoman for the lewd merchandise they wanted to peddle would need to be comfortable with sexual matters, and Adrienne … well, that single interaction of Zoey's had been seeing Adrienne's dress, face, and hair covered in Delta's cum, only half cleaned off, and being worn as a badge of pride. Or, Zoey's cum, seeing how Delta had been borrowing her cock for the night.

So, yeah. Adrienne wouldn't have much issues with their business. As Delta suggested, it would probably be the opposite; she might be more than eager to jump into it, simply because it excited her. Zoey wouldn't be surprised if she made an enthusiastic saleswoman, going above and beyond what was expected of her to get potions off the shelves.

Her background as an accountant was the cherry on top. Sabina could handle the paperwork and administrative tasks, having run her own business for years, but the increased volume from Zoey's eventual contributions—because she didn't intend to be a novice student forever—would be eased with Adrienne's help.

The biggest issue would of course be relocation, since Adrienne might not want to pack up and head off to Mantle, but as far as Zoey knew, people who lived in the Fractures weren't usually strictly beholden to whatever city. Civilians came down to the Fractures for the increased profit, and rarely intended to live their lives here. Even the safest cities like Treyhull weren't really safe, not by surface standards.

Plus maybe Adrienne had an adventurous spirit, and would want to trek out to Mantle simple for the experience. Relocating might even be a bonus to her.

They'd find all that out during the interview.

"I've never really hired someone before," Zoey said, "but yeah, between the two of us, I'm sure it won't be a problem. An hour or two, you said?"

"Indeed."

"Plenty of time to get a few lessons in?"

"As soon as I finish this up," Sabina agreed. "Did you find any new reagents while you were gone?"

Zoey wrinkled her nose. "Unfortunately, no. This expedition was …" She struggled for how to put it. "I didn't find any new reagents," she settled on. She hardly mistrusted Sabina, but explaining her bizarre circumstances obviously wasn't on the table either.

Sabina didn't seem bothered. She nodded and continued with her work.

The following hour and a half passed in the typical manner. Zoey studiously attended Sabina as an assistant, occasionally being questioned or put on the spot to attempt some part of the alchemical process. She was already capable of making basic potions, and as the days passed, she was growing more and more comfortable making more advanced ones, too. She thought she might even be able to start creating her own lewd potions, rather than relying on Sabina.

She had mixed feelings on that, of course. Having Sabina make everything valuable meant they would make the most of their resources, but at the same time, Zoey wanted to be competent in her own right, and that would never happen if she gave any valuable reagents to Sabina and refused to try her own hand with them—and probably waste decent amounts of the resource in the process.

She'd probably settle for a middle ground. Let Sabina handle the bulk of the effort, but keep a portion, perhaps a quarter, for herself to mess around with, under Sabina's guidance. Her rune of alchemy wouldn't progress without challenging herself. She wondered when her next upgrade with that would come, and what it would be. Most people had to waits weeks, months, or even years for progression, but Zoey's class was broken. She'd probably get one before the week was up, and they headed for Mantle.

Soon, the chiming of a bell announced that someone had entered Sabina's storefront. Seeing how the sign was flipped close, Sabina having disregarded her previous public-facing efforts with the potential of their new business, it was almost certainly Adrienne.

Setting aside the alchemical tools and reagents they'd been using, each of them stripped off their gloves and goggles and walked out into the shelf-lined store proper.

Adrienne was, obviously, cleaned up and far better put together than their first meeting. Considering the disheveled, filthy, grinning state of the girl when they'd first been introduced, the difference was actually fairly stark; she looked like a different person. A young, cheerful professional, not the … well, unfortunately, the word that came to mind was 'cum slut', and Zoey didn't mean it in a degrading way, just—Adrienne had been a little too pleased to be caught with cum on her face to think of her in any other way.

Still, here and now, she obviously looked like any other young woman dressed up for an interview. She was taking the offer seriously, it seemed. She'd come in a short skirt—though not scandalously short—and a white blouse, which she'd left the first several buttons open on. Professional looking, if admittedly a little more eager to show off her body than some.

Mahogany ringlets framed her heart-shaped face, and she beamed at Zoey and Sabina as they walked out into the store. She'd been idly holding a briefcase with two hands, but now she shifted it to her left, then took a few steps forward and held out a hand. She exchanged handshakes with Sabina and Zoey, greeting them with a, "It's so nice to meet you, Sabina! I'll admit, this offer came as a surprise, but from what you included in your note, I have to say I'm super interested." Her eyes flicked to Zoey, and her smile took a slight turn toward 'sly', rather than simply friendly. "You find business contacts in the strangest places, sometimes. It's Zoey, right? I didn't forget?"

"It's Zoey," Zoey confirmed, amused at the brunette's words. Indeed, this 'business contact' had come from a rather unexpected encounter. That was probably doubly true from Adrienne's perspective. She'd just been on a shameless one-night fling, and now had a potential for getting into a bizarre, once-in-a-lifetime business—one that would pay outrageously well. Sex potions.

Er, had Sabina spelled that out explicitly, in whatever the 'note' was? Zoey realized she didn't exactly know how Sabina had gotten Adrienne here, and what specifically she had told her.

"This isn't super formal," Zoey said. "I don't think either of us really know how to run a job interview. So we're just gonna talk."

"Sounds fun," Adrienne said, flashing another smile. Zoey would admit she was charmed—and that the woman was far less flirty than she'd been expecting. Though of course her 'wild nights out' weren't how she carried herself in day to day situations.

"I have chairs in the back," Sabina said. "Please, follow me."

Notes:

Hi readers, I set up a discord to talk about my web serials (or other stuff) if you're interested. Check it out if you want :) https/discord.gg/45JRgrp2

Chapter 125

Chapter Text

Sabina led them into her laboratory, where she dragged out and set up a few foldable metal chairs. It wasn't the most professional environment, but Adrienne didn't seem bothered. Her attention seemed mostly focused on the organized clutter of Sabina's laboratory. She peered around at the alchemy reagents, potions, and other paraphernalia with plain interest.

Zoey wondered how intriguing the magical craftsman professions were to normal civilians. She knew they wouldn't find it as amazing as Zoey, who had grown up in a world without magic, but Zoey also got the impression stuff like alchemy was a field that only wayfarers were significantly occupied with, and that magical fields didn't have huge prevalence in everyday life. Maybe more in a big Fractures city like Treyhull, but still not totally mundane.

Settling down into the chairs, the interview began in earnest.

"Before we get started," Sabina said, "we should clarify exactly what this opportunity is. There was only so much I was willing to share through a messenger."

"Setting up a potion stand in the red light district," Adrienne said. "I can sort of infer what that means. But I'll admit, I'm curious about the details."

So Adrienne hadn't received the full picture, as Zoey had been wondering about. Though, the woman had put two and two together. It would have been hard not to, she supposed.

"It's what you'd guess," Zoey said. "We don't have a huge selection, but that doesn't really matter. We're pretty sure it's not available anywhere else," in fact, from what Sabina had said, Zoey's specialty might be unique to the entire world, "and so we don't think there'll be a problem in turning a profit."

"Can I ask what, specifically?"

Zoey shared a look with Sabina, who shrugged. She turned back forward. "Well," Zoey said. "We've got aphrodisiacs, sensitivity enhancers, infertility potions, and the opposite, fertility increasers. To name a few. There's lots of others."

Adrienne's eyes widened with each successive word, and she was leaning forward in her chair, eyebrows raised by the time Zoey finished listing off her even shortened account of their stock.

"Wow," Adrienne said. "And how strong are they?"

"Pretty strong," Zoey said. "They'll be popular. Sabina's working on improving the recipe, and also breaking them down into tiers of varying intensity. Because the strongest are already pretty crazy." At least, from what Sabina said. Zoey had unfortunately not had much time to experiment herself.

"Wow," Adrienne repeated.

"And there's stranger potions, too," Zoey said. "There's one in particular we think is going to sell out in record time."

"Oh?" Adrienne was visibly hanging on Zoey's words, not having to fake interest in the subject. Zoey's suspicion that the brunette would be interested in this business had quickly been confirmed. Not that she'd had many doubts.

As for the potion she mentioned … she coughed. "It grows a cock. On a woman. Fully functional, works like it ought to, pretty much indistinguishable from the real thing."

Adrienne paused, then blinked. She returned to her normal sitting position, seeming almost taken aback. Zoey was pretty sure that was from sheer strangeness, not disinterest.

"Huh?"

"Yeah," Zoey said. "Definitely one of our more exciting potions."

Slowly, Adrienne's expression morphed into a sort of delighted incredulity. "And it works on anyone?"

"It does. Or, at least, we think so."

"That's … incredible? Oh my gods." Adrienne shook her head. "I've never heard of anything like that. You two are going to be carting money around in wheelbarrows. How?"

"How we made it?"

"Yeah."

"Business secret?"

Adrienne wasn't put off by that response. "That's fair. But, wow. That's seriously crazy."

"Yeah. It is. Anyway, we just wanted to make sure you had the full picture. It'd be a bit awkward if you weren't comfortable with it. Because we're looking for someone to handle most of the stand, not just the finances portion. We know you work in accounting, but we're looking for someone to handle the business in general, sales included."

Adrienne nodded eagerly, auburn ringlets bouncing. "I can do that. I can definitely do that. Honestly, I was thinking of quitting even before this. Finding something more exciting." She laughed. "And this is definitely more exciting."

"There's one more caveat. We're probably not staying in Treyhull for long."

"Moving somewhere else? Back up to Haven?"

"Mantle, actually."

It was a somewhat sensitive topic, discussing a move from Striders territory to Deepshunters, so Zoey watched for any kind of worrying reaction. But Adrienne wasn't perturbed in the slightest; she just nodded. Rosalie had said that highguild relations didn't mean too much to civilians.

"I see," Adrienne said. "For the better market? And you're asking if I'd be willing to relocate, too, right?"

"That's the plan," Zoey said.

"Well, considering the opportunity, I could certainly be convinced. It depends on the details, of course. Hours, responsibilities, pay. Don't get me wrong, I'm very interested, but my family relies on what I send back, so I can't go around doing whatever I want."

"It's a strange job, needs you to move, and we're also hoping for some discretion when it comes to the details of the business," Zoey said. "More than that, we're expecting to make decent returns. So we'd be happy to offer you what you're worth." She looked at Sabina; they had discussed this before hand.

Sabina nodded, then faced Adrienne and said a number which meant little to Zoey. By the way Adrienne's eyes shot open, and almost full-on gaped at the alchemist, Zoey could tell it was a lot—more than Zoey had thought. She still didn't have a great handle on this world's economy. Rosalie had been handling most of their shopping, and likewise, Sabina the business details for this venture.

Adrienne recovered, though she blushed slightly at her reaction. "Well," she said, "yes, that would be comfortably in my range. That more than works."

As far as Zoey was concerned, that more or less concluded the discussion. Sabina, however, had a little more common sense, and she pressed Adrienne on her work experience and qualifications. Sabina came away from the exchange seeming satisfied, and after sharing a quick look with Zoey, Zoey could tell they were in accord. Adrienne had the job.

"The tent is set up," Sabina said. "And I'm finishing labeling the first wave of merchandise and packing it. We should be ready as soon as tomorrow. Will you?"

That was, of course, another problem. It would probably be bad form for Adrienne to just abandon her previous job on so little notice.

Adrienne hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't think my boss will be happy, but it's not like I'm turning this down. He's kind of an asshole, anyway."

Zoey snorted at that, and Adrienne flashed a smile in return.

"We should show you around," Sabina said. "The security measures, how to keep records, transactions. It's not complicated, and I've organized the process into notes should you need them, but it's still best we show you."

"Sure," Adrienne said.

A short trip through the city later, they arrived to Treyhull's red light district. There wasn't much activity, not even being noon yet. Most businesses were closed; such a district came alive in the evening at a minimum. That said, there were a few people wandering the streets, and not everything was closed; there was always patronage for brothels and such businesses, even if prime hours were later.

The marketplace Sabina led them to was somewhat busier, though still sparse. Tents and stalls crowded the street, lined in impromptu rows that Zoey suspected were frequently shifting. Not just the wares she'd expect to find in the red light district, there were tamer items on display: beauty products, perfumes, alcohol, clothing, and other such products.

Soon, Sabina had located their tent.

"We'll need to set up the marketing material, as well," Sabina commented. "Signage and such. Though word of mouth, I suspect, will get us far."

"When you're selling sex potions, I don't think finding customers will be a problem," Adrienne said wryly. "I'm kind of worried you'll run out before the day is half over." She shifted awkwardly. "I'll still be paid a salary, if that's the case?"

Zoey reassured her that she would. Adrienne would have a consistent income regardless of how fast their limited stock disappeared. They didn't have cartloads of the potions, but Sabina was an effective alchemist, and she'd been working diligently at creating a comfortable stock. And the potions were expensive, anyway; they wouldn't disappear if simply by the fact only wealthier clientele would be able to afford them. Regular folk could probably buy one or two as a special event, but Sabina knew the value of the rare items they intended to peddle and had priced them appropriately.

The inside of the tent was plain. There was a counter where Adrienne would handle transactions and a single rack for where potions would be stored, situated behind the counter. No frills.

"We'll be leaving in a week, so it's a minimalist set up," Sabina said. "A test run, so to say."

"More than enough," Adrienne said, scanning the small interior of the tent. She didn't seem put off by the somewhat cramped surroundings. She was just excited to be part of this, Zoey could tell—and only half for the impressive pay increase.

Sabina showed her around. Though plain-looking, running even a small store came with some overhead and administrative headaches. Sabina also demonstrated the security features—there was a magical glyph that set off an alarm on contact, which would alert guards to come running to the tent. A standard operating procedure for this world, Zoey could intuit.

Adrienne would store the majority of their stock in her inventory, pulling it out to refill the shelves when necessary. That took some trust on their part, since the brunette was carrying around a veritable pile of gold in the form of those potions, but she only had a portion of their total stock, so if she ran off with it, it wouldn't be devastating.

Still, Zoey acknowledged she didn't really know this woman in any meaningful capacity, and supposed being robbed was more than on the table. Zoey suspected Adrienne recognized a longer-term benefit to sticking around and joining the business in earnest, though, so she wasn't too worried.

Once Adrienne had been shown around and briefed, Sabina passed off some documentation for her to read through, the details to how Sabina wanted her to run the tent. That done, they said their goodbyes and Adrienne departed.

Since it wasn't quite time to head off and find Maddy, according to Zoey's typical schedule, they headed back to Sabina's shop. She could still get a few more lessons in. No point in being lazy. How else would she ever pass Sabina's quizzes?