Chapter 0 - Arc 4

4.01 Interlude - Gnawing
 
 
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.
 
4.02 - The Prize, a Favor
 
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?
 
4.03 - ❤ Sabina's Special Room
 
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.”
 
4.04 - ❤ Milking Session
 
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.
 
4.05 - Strip Spars
 
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.
 
4.06 - Strip Spars II
 
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.
 
4.07 - Business Plans
 
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.”
 
4.08 - Casual
 
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.”
 
4.09 - Chats
 
“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.
 
4.10 - ❤ Ménage à Trois I
 
“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.
 
4.11 - ❤ Ménage à Trois II
 
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.”
 
4.12 - ❤ Ménage à Trois III
 
“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.”
 
4.13 - ❤ Ménage à Trois IV
 
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.
 
4.14 - ❤ Ménage à Trois V
 
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.
 
4.15 Morning After
 
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.
 
4.16 Obvious Reagent
 
“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.
 
4.17 - ❤ Quiz I
 
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.”
 
4.18 - ❤ Quiz II
 
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.
 
4.19 - ❤ Interlude - Taste
 
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?
 
4.20 - Easing In
 
“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.
 
4.21 - ❤ Spectacle
 
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?”
 
4.22 - Dreaming
 
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.
 
4.23 - Kali
 
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.
 
4.24 - ❤ Dream Delving
 
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.”
 
4.25 - ❤ Audience
 
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.
 
4.26 - Visit
 
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.”
 
4.27 - Divine Meeting
 
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.
 
4.28 - To The Rescue
 
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.”
 
4.29 - ❤ Gooey Explanations
 
“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.
 
4.30 - ❤ Working It Out
 
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?
 
4.31 - The Truth
 
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.
 
4.32 - Overdue Talks
 
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.
 
4.33 - Back to the Beginning
 
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.
 
4.34 - ❤ Vines, Properly
 
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.
 
4.35 - Post Vines
 
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.
 
4.36 - Solo Fighting
 
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.
 
4.37 - Broken Loot
 
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.
 
4.38 - Reunion
 
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?”
 
4.39 - ❤ Collecting the Bait
 
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.
 
4.40 - ❤ Lured Out
 
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.”
 
4.41 - ❤ Goo-Girl Says Thanks
 
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.
 
4.42 - ❤ Two Girls, One Slime
 
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?”
 
4.43 - ❤ Double Stuffing
 
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.
 
4.44 - ❤❤ How To Give Head, The Other Way
 
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.
 
4.45 - Return
 
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.
 
4.46 - Interlude - Exploration
 
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.
 
Author's Note:

That completes Arc Four. Just as a heads up, this story is kept most up to date at:

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