Chapter 0 - Arc 3

3.01 - Trekking Back

 
“Snow,” Delta complained. “Fucking snow. Can’t ever have an easy exit realm, can I?”
 
Progress to the nearest outpost was crawling along, thanks to what Delta had complained about—and had been complaining about for the past hour. Unlike a forest, or even a rocky, hilly terrain, traversing across a snow-covered tundra meant sluggish, impeded advancement. 
 
Even worse, visibility was awful. Though far from a blizzard, a snow storm—snow drizzle?—occluded their sight for more than a few dozen feet in any direction. That would be annoying in the best of cases, trying to reach a destination a person knew by heart. But here? Lost in a foreign pocket-dimension, seeking signs of life to find an outpost? Even worse.
 
They might be walking for a while.
 
At least Delta’s complaining broke the monotony.
 
Not.
 
“Like, I don’t even care it’s hard to walk in. But it gets fucking everywhere. My eyebrows are frozen. This is so stupid.”
 
Now, Zoey considered herself a tolerant person. She didn’t mind when people complained. She did a lot of complaining herself in ‘bullshit circumstances’. But Delta had really been going at it. Her lack of filter didn’t, apparently, only apply to saying crass things or making inappropriate observations. When she was uncomfortable, or displeased, she had no problems voicing it.
 
To anyone in ear shot.
 
Honestly, Zoey was surprised Rosalie hadn’t said anything. That might’ve been the most damning indicator to how lost in thought she was. Had Delta been this loud and persistently complaining on their trip to the shard, rather than away from it, then Rosalie would’ve been all over her. It would’ve been twice as noisy—three times, even, as they bickered.
 
Instead, Rosalie trudged along through the snow, setting a pace Zoey found difficult to match. She hadn’t spoken more than a few times, and only practicals: confirming Delta’s questions on what supplies she had available, should they need to stop for the night without fighting a path to an outpost.
 
At least they were well supplied. Though freezing in this pocket-realm, all three of them were dressed for the weather. Inventories really were an amazing thing.
 
Zoey had her own boots from her shopping earlier. She’d needed to borrow a coat from Rosalie, though—their preparations for Zoey hadn’t been completely thorough. Next shard, Zoey would need to finish gathering supplies.
 
If there was a next shard.
 
Which was the reason for the silent trek in the first place.
 
“Okay,” Delta said. “I’m fed up with it.”
 
“We didn’t notice,” Zoey said dryly.
 
“Not the snow. Though don’t even get me started on that.”
 
Started? Zoey thought. Delta had a little more than ‘started’ on the topic. 
 
“Then what?”
 
“You two.”
 
“Us two?”
 
“I bit my tongue long enough. You’re both being insufferable.”
 
Zoey’s irritation spiked—‘insufferable’? “Says you?” she shot back. “You haven’t stopped whining once.”
 
“Look,” Delta said. “I’ll do it myself, if you won’t.”
 
Zoey didn’t like where this was going.
 
“Zoey,” Delta started with faux-ceremony. “I’m not sure wayfaring with you is a smart idea. You suck ass at fighting, and you’re way too inexperienced. Either we only tackle lower advancement shards, or we spend some time getting you caught up before we go on our next. I’m not going to get you killed.”
 
“Now isn’t the time for this,” Rosalie said. There was no bite in her voice, which was honestly concerning.
 
“Sure it is,” Delta said. “What the fuck else are we doing? We’ve got hours more of kicking our feet through snow, so let’s air this out.”
 
“I don’t think there’s anything to say,” Zoey muttered.
 
Zoey couldn’t see it past Delta’s pulled-up snow coat, but she imagined her rolling her eyes. The way she threw her hands into the air and shook her head, too, didn’t leave much for interpretation.
 
“What, is chilling out for two weeks the end of the world? You have a rune that makes ours evolve faster—I could even argue it’s the logical choice to take it easy. Smart in the long term. Get you comfortable with the basics, then you won’t croak it by accident. Does Princess really need to rush through the ranks that badly?”
 
“Yes,” Rosalie said shortly.
 
A pause.
 
“And why?” Delta asked. “Because Daddy’s got big expectations? Who the fuck are you, anyway?”
 
No response. Not that Zoey had expected one. 
 
“Like she said, it’s not the time for this,” Zoey said.
 
“Kay. Well. That shard was closer than I wanted. I’m not—”
 
“It was aberrant,” Rosalie interrupted. “It cloned us, so it was unusually strong. Because we are unusually strong, relative to who would delve a second advancement. It was a fluke.” It sounded well-rehearsed, like Rosalie had been going over the point in her head.
 
“And what, you think there won’t be more ‘aberrant’ shards? When it comes to her?” Delta jabbed a thumb at Zoey.
 
Rosalie’s non-response answered for her.
 
“So,” Delta said. “I’m not getting her killed. We stick with first-advancement shards, or we train her up. Not even to being competent, just to the point  …” Delta waved her hand, not spelling it out.
 
To the point she’s not dead weight, Zoey finished for her. 
 
“Some defensive spells is the obvious one,” Delta said. “Something passive, so if an attack slips you, she’s not toast. That’s the bare, bare minimum.”
 
“She has no idea how spellcasting works,” Rosalie said. “And only has an ice aspect. A passive armor skill would take weeks to learn.”
 
“I learned the ice spike pretty fast,” Zoey said. “It’s that much harder?”
 
Rosalie shot Zoey an irritated look. “Yes. Significantly. Or I would’ve had you learn it.”
 
That was fair.
 
It sucked not having a clue what anyone was talking about. Zoey couldn’t even contribute to the discussion, because she didn’t know what the alternatives were. She couldn’t weigh their options, because she hadn’t a clue what each was. How long would ‘bare competency’ take in spellcasting? In learning basic awareness, footwork, melee skills—other adventuring cornerstones?
 
So she went quiet again, letting Rosalie and Delta bicker.
 
“I don’t see why ‘weeks’ is such a big deal,” Delta said. “I know you’re trying to be the next big thing, but that shit takes years, even for the best. So what’s a few weeks to let Zoey figure things out?”
 
Zoey had an idea of Rosalie’s reasoning, at least. Zoey didn’t know much about Rosalie—her past, she meant; Zoey knew plenty about her in the ways that mattered—but Rosalie had given a few hints into her circumstances. Namely, that she was supposed to be returning to her family, and that her ‘solo adventures’ through the Fractures were something they would frown upon.
 
At a guess, worse than ‘frown upon’. And Rosalie’s only excuse for denying that directive—not heading to them immediately—would be if she returned from her bout of rogue behavior with significant progress made. Rosalie had said she shouldn’t be delaying more than a few weeks at the worst, so if they burned up that whole time with Zoey learning how to cast a few defensive spells, and how to handle herself, then Rosalie would have no excuse to offer her family. Speed mattered.
 
“My reasoning is none of your business, is it?” Rosalie said.
 
And she wasn’t particularly interested in explaining any of that to Delta. Zoey didn’t blame her. And she didn’t blame Delta’s irritated reaction, either. 
 
“Look,” Delta said, turning to Zoey. Their trekking through the snow came to a stop. Her orange eyebrows were, as she’d complained about, frosted down. She wore a black cloth over her mouth to stave off the biting wind. “Don’t get yourself killed trying to keep up with her. Worst case, let her fuck off on her own. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out, but you’re not ready for a third-advancement shard. Or even another second, in my opinion. Not worth the risk.”
 
Delta wasn’t saying anything Zoey hadn’t gloomily puzzled over during the walk. Though, Zoey did appreciate Delta’s concern. Rosalie was undergoing a war of whether Zoey’s wellbeing or her life-long ambitions mattered more, and Zoey didn’t fault that, not really, but Delta—Delta’s priorities were clear. She was a dedicated wayfarer, but the health of her teammate mattered more.
 
“Like I said,” Zoey sighed. “I think we’re better off talking about this later. We’re all in a bad mood. I think some sleep will do us well. Let’s focus on getting to an outpost.”
 
She half expected a snippish response from Rosalie, agreeing with Zoey and antagonizing Delta, but she stayed quiet. She’d been tight-lipped the whole way through, which had been why Zoey’s stomach had been squirming so much. Zoey was much happier to see Rosalie in a snippish mood than a silent one—the latter was the clearly more troubled.
 
Delta looked like she was going to push the point—but she shook her head and turned back forward.
 
They continued trudging through the snow.
 
Zoey pulled her coat tighter.
 
###
 
The wind and snow settled, eventually, opening visibility up and removing the worst of the harsh weather—the biting cold that cut through even her thick jacket, and the flakes of ice collecting in her eyebrows and zipping into her eyes. 
 
It was several hours more before they found a beacon, and subsequently started down the infrequently used road. An outpost came into view not long after, heralded by a plume of smoke curling up into the winter sky, stark against the backdrop of white.
 
They didn’t talk much. Even Delta’s complaining cut off. Zoey was grateful for that, and also not. Because neither of her teammates were the silent type, and seeing them … well, not be them, was unsettling. 
 
How’d it go bad so fast?
 
And it wasn’t anyone’s fault. That was the worst part, somehow. She couldn’t find any blame to dole out, which had Zoey’s bad mood settling in the pit of her stomach and spoiling. It’d have been easier with something to direct her annoyance at. But even when she tried to face it inward … again, she could hardly blame herself for being a novice spellcaster, a poor adventurer. Though some did latch, there; rationality rarely won out in this kind of situation.
 
They shook off the snow at the doorway, then wiped their boots down under a frowning innkeeper’s gaze. Once done, he nodded for them to come in, and they checked out rooms for the night. It’d been a long day, and each of them were ready to sleep. It had been Zoey’s suggestion to let their thoughts settle in the first place. 
 
Rosalie accepted Zoey’s offer to share a room. That was something. Rosalie was conflicted, and for good reasons, but Zoey knew she didn’t want to split up—that rather, it might be a necessity, both for purpose of her advancement, and Zoey’s safety.
 
They went about their nightly routines. Seeing Rosalie ready up for the night stung, somehow, like Zoey was being teased with the domesticity of what she might’ve been able to have, but which had good chances of being lost.
 
Things didn’t take a heated turn, laying together in bed, for obvious reasons. Zoey supposed they’d had plenty of that in the shard, anyway.
 
It took a while to fall asleep, but she did. Zoey had exhaustion on her side.
 
3.02 - Future Plans
 
Zoey woke first. She drifted to consciousness, morning sunlight trickling in through the window, pressed in by a soft body.
 
Her eyes opened to a sleeping Rosalie.
 
Zoey sighed.
 
They’d gone to sleep on separate halves of the bed, but had, of course, intertwined while asleep. She and Rosalie had become easily acquainted with each other’s bodies, so night-time cuddling was an inevitability.
 
Zoey basked in the moment. Sleep-addled and her brain not fully roused, the arguments—dilemmas—of yesterday didn’t breach the warm glow of Rosalie tucked into her. 
 
It was crazy how different she looked, asleep. Even more than most people, Rosalie walked around wearing an expression carved from steel. ‘Gentle and serene’ was a description ill-fitting her. And while Zoey wanted to draw out a more easy-going side of Rosalie, she knew that wasn’t Rosalie at her core. Zoey needed to accept that if she ever wanted … something with her. 
 
Rosalie was married to her work, to use a comparison Zoey could understand. Maybe romance was possible, but trying to claim first priority in Rosalie’s life would be selfish. She’d trained her entire life for wayfaring, and had responsibilities to her family, besides. 
 
Zoey sighed a second time, and maybe it was louder than she meant, because the blonde woman in her arms stirred.
 
Pale, ice-blue eyes blinked up at her. Zoey simply studied her back, watching the crease-lines return, the sleeping serenity melt from her face.
 
Rosalie sighed, then snuggled in closer.
 
Zoey squeezed back. “Morning.”
 
“Don’t remind me.”
 
Zoey chuckled, pressing her forehead into Rosalie’s. She closed her eyes.
 
They mutually enjoyed each other’s warmth, ignoring the problem hanging over their heads. 
 
“One of my runes evolved,” Zoey murmured.
 
“Mine as well. Which?”
 
“How would I know?”
 
A pause, then a soft snort. “Right. Another thing you need to learn.”
 
A short silence at the reminder of Zoey’s deficiencies. 
 
“You can check,” Zoey offered. She didn’t bother asking what Rosalie’s evolved rune had provided. She was, unsurprisingly, tight-lipped about her skills, even to Zoey.
 
‘Even to Zoey’. Zoey had only known Rosalie for a handful of days. Even if they’d become fast … friends? … she was overestimating what, exactly, they had together. Why would Rosalie share her runes and skills in detail? In her culture, it was apparently a deeply intimate secret.
 
Like had happened a few times before, Rosalie’s finger went to Zoey’s forehead. There was a brief pause as she scanned Zoey’s tabula anima.
 
She stiffened.
 
Then shot up in bed, throwing the covers off.
 
“What is it?” Zoey asked, sitting up herself. Rosalie’s shocked reaction—though her face stayed calm, but in a frozen-disbelief kind of way—had worked to get Zoey’s heart pumping. The tenderness of their intimacy faded away, and the cold air of the inn room seeped in.
 
Rosalie opened her mouth, then closed it.
 
“What?” Zoey repeated. “It’s that weird?” She’d grown used to expecting strange things from her class and circumstances, but so should Rosalie have.
 
“Not weird,” Rosalie said. Her brow furrowed. “ … convenient.”
 
Convenient? 
 
“Clue me in?”
 
“Your Rune of Bonding evolved,” Rosalie said. “The newest skill is called Growth.” She rattled off the next as if she were reading from a page: “Shards provide additional experience for each day spent between entry. Applies to both rune-holder and bonded targets.”
 
Zoey absorbed the announcement, stunned. The implications were obvious. ‘Convenient’, Rosalie had said. A solution, dropped into their lap, just like that?
 
After all that agonizing over Rosalie’s need to be quickly progressing through shards, an explicit incentive to take things easy had been provided through her class?
 
It was as if a meddling goddess was trying to keep her and Rosalie from splitting up. 
 
Was it even that, though? Or a coincidence? Zoey’s Rune of Bonding had already indicated its purpose was to aid her and her bonded targets. Alacrity, her first-advancement skill, specifically evolved bonded target’s runes faster. So this newest one fit with that. The skill had hardly come out of nowhere. Zoey could even make the argument it was a natural extension. 
 
But the how didn’t matter, did it?
 
A grin crept across Zoey’s lips.
 
“That’s good news, right?” Rosalie surely had to have understood the implications behind Zoey’s skill—that it solved their dilemma. Or … maybe not solved. But alleviated? It might not make up the entire difference—constant, vigilant wayfaring might provide more experience than the skill’s ‘between-shard’ bonus offered—but at least it was something. It was a reason to stay together.
 
“Good news,” Rosalie echoed. She chewed her lip, as if hesitant to let herself be happy at the development. “It depends on how significant the bonus is.”
 
“Knowing my class?” Rosalie had made it clear that Zoey’s skills were powerful, both by nature—the ability to amplify experience gained—and by potency, like how her Lust resource made her spells much stronger than a regular caster’s ought to be. “It can’t be weak, that much feels safe.”
 
Zoey could tell Rosalie agreed, but she still seemed hesitant. Zoey got the feeling after so much deliberation, having a neat solution like this had triggered some dubious part of her nature: a slowness to let herself be hopeful.
 
“It … likely wouldn’t be,” Rosalie said, almost begrudgingly. “But how strong?” She shook her head, as if contradicting herself. “Like you said, considering your other skills … your first-advancement skill already had my own rune advancing, which is absurd.”
 
Zoey, at least, wasn’t as slow to celebrate. The smile finished creeping across her face, and Rosalie frowned at her, as if annoyed Zoey wasn’t having the same doubts.
 
“It’s worth testing,” Zoey said, rolling her eyes. “It means we can … put this decision off, in the worst case. Let the bonus build up, then, say, a week or two from now, go on our next. If the extra experience isn’t worth it …” she shrugged. Problems for later. After mulling over a seemingly impossible problem to solve—at least for Zoey, since the dilemma was entirely with Rosalie’s internal motivations—having even a half-solution elated her. Zoey practically vibrated with excitement.
 
She shuffled forward and grabbed Rosalie’s hands. Her demeanor was finally breaking, a hesitant smile touching her lips. 
 
“I suppose … what you’re saying does make sense.” She wavered, some of her growing optimism disappearing. “But it doesn’t bother you?”
 
“Bother me?”
 
“Why don’t you mind? That I … might have chosen to leave.”
 
Zoey paused. “I mean, I understand your reasoning. You made it clear what your priorities are from the moment I met you. And …” Zoey hesitated on saying the next part. “And we aren’t girlfriends, are we? So we don’t have any obligations to each other.”
 
“I suppose we don’t.”
 
Rosalie didn’t hide the disappointment in her response. Or maybe, Zoey thought, she didn’t realize there was disappointment to be hiding.
 
Zoey grinned, the briefly serious moment passing, and Rosalie’s reaction highly encouraging. “Not until we go on our date, anyway,” she teased. “We’ll talk about titles then.”
 
Rosalie’s cheeks colored. She glanced away and cleared her throat. “I suppose we will.”
 
Which was a more direct response than Zoey had expected. Her smile continued to widen. If that irritating goddess did meddle, maybe I have thanks to say. Not that it made up for the whole memory-editing stuff … but those were separate issues.
 
“When do you have to be back, anyway?” Zoey asked.
 
“Back?”
 
“To your parents. Family.”
 
“Oh. I don’t know. Like I told you, I’m not supposed to be delaying at all.”
 
“But the more you progress, the more your time away can be excused?”
 
“Up to a point. Past four or five weeks, they’d start to worry.” Her brow furrowed. “I suppose I ought to get in contact. Explain my situation in … roundabout verbiage. But I’m just not sure how I would, while maintaining discretion.”
 
Zoey nodded along. She, obviously, couldn’t provide insight there. “Okay. So, assuming this skill does give us reason to stick together. What’s our future long-term?” 
 
For once, Zoey was willing to rock the boat. The agonizing of the past sixteen hours had shown just how big this crush of hers had gotten—an admittance she’d been shying away for her own sake, in case things hadn’t worked out. 
 
Now, though, with a potential path forward, Zoey wanted concrete details. To know if a long-term was something that could happen, considering Rosalie’s family. Pushing too hard probably wasn’t smart, but Zoey needed to know there was a shot. Because why put herself through that crucible, otherwise? If even Rosalie herself admitted it couldn’t work out?
 
“Long-term,” Rosalie said. The words came out as if she hadn’t even considered it, which wouldn’t be a very Rosalie-thing-to-do. Then again, since it was a matter of the heart … ignoring it would be very Rosalie, wouldn’t it? Or maybe total ignorance—not ignoring it so much as being unaware. “I suppose … we would all need to head back to my family, together.”
 
Zoey grinned at the ‘all’. She’d included Delta. The two of them might not get along, but Rosalie at least saw her as a teammate, and not someone to ditch as soon as it became convenient. 
 
“It would be wise to do so, anyway,” Rosalie continued, though not with any enthusiasm. She seemed, to say the least, doubtful of the situation. “My family’s resources would go a long way to improving our advancement speed. Plus, I can’t—“ she hesitated.
 
Zoey waited patiently.
 
“I can’t rely on not being recognized forever,” Rosalie finished. “So I should return because of that, too.” 
 
Zoey nodded. That made sense. Rosalie obviously didn’t think it likely, but it was a ticking time-bomb: something that could happen at any moment, should they get extraordinarily unlucky. She could be recognized. “You said we’re in enemy territory. The … Striders Highguild? And your family is aligned with the Deepshunters?”
 
Rosalie nodded once, slowly. She was eying Zoey for a reason Zoey couldn’t place. Fortunately, Rosalie formalized the odd look into words: “You aren’t curious?”
 
“Curious?” Oh. “Who you are, you mean?”—Rosalie nodded—“Sure. But you don’t want to tell. So.”
 
“And it’s that simple?”
 
“You aren’t pestering me for my secrets, are you?” Zoey pointed out.
 
Because their encounter with Not-Zoey had been revealing. She’d alluded to Zoey’s secrets, and how they were ‘bigger than Rosalie’s’. Zoey could plug her ears, close her eyes, and hum to block out the noise of the world better than most people could, but in that particular event, even Zoey had no hope that Rosalie had simply forgotten. 
 
Maybe Zoey could hope that Rosalie simply thought the reflection was lying, sowing dissent so the fight went better, but that was far-fetched, considering how bizarre Zoey’s circumstances were. And while Rosalie had been surprised by Not-Zoey’s claim, she hadn’t seemed that surprised—more like something had been confirmed for her.
 
“I suppose I haven’t,” Rosalie said.
 
A silence.
 
Zoey squeezed Rosalie’s hands—she was still holding them from earlier. “But our future. If it works out.”
 
“Right.” Rosalie collected her thoughts. They brushed past their respective secrets. Though, Rosalie’s would presumably be revealing themselves sooner or later, simply by the fact they’d be meeting her family.
 
Zoey should probably come clean before then, too. Obviously she could trust Rosalie, by this point. The reason Zoey hadn’t, yet, was for a few reasons. One, the absurdity—the lack of reasonableness, and that Rosalie might outright not believe her. Though that might’ve been smoothed over with recent events. Second, though: Ephy’s commandment not to share her past with anyone. 
 
She hadn’t emphasized it particularly hard … but disobeying a goddess’s instructions might not be the wisest course of action. Then again, fuck her, right? It wasn’t like Zoey had any great fondness for the woman who’d lobotomized her. And she needed Zoey—presumably. Zoey had been chosen her champion, and that made her not disposable.
 
Still, Zoey didn’t know what kind of power or influence she had. Could she make Zoey’s life harder if Zoey upset her? Was she even watching Zoey? Would sharing her history with Rosalie upset her in the first place? Or had the secrecy request simply been intended for the general population—that Zoey shouldn’t go blabbing her circumstances to anyone who wanted to hear?
 
Something to mull over later.
 
“I suppose,” Rosalie said, “assuming this skill does what we hope, then our future plans would be … get you trained up, explore perhaps one, two more shards, then head back to Deepshunters territory.” Her nose wrinkled. “Deal with the whole … family situation, and explain why I’ve chosen you two as my teammates …”
 
Right. Her family would be picky about who she teams with, wouldn’t they? Zoey might have to focus on making a good impression. That would be … an ordeal, she suspected. Christ. And even more for Delta. First impressions to someone like Rosalie’s family? Not easy to pull off, at a guess, and Delta wasn’t particularly tactful. To put it lightly.
 
“… then continue more of the same. Further training, further advancement.” She shrugged. “Wayfaring,” she said, as if summing things up. A grimace. “With some politics mixed in. Though you two shouldn’t have to deal with much of that.”
 
Zoey suspected they’d be caught along by that whirlwind whether Rosalie intended them to or not. 
 
Still, though.
 
A potential future with Rosalie—that was all Zoey had needed to hear.
 
3.03 - Breakfast Together
 
It wasn’t until she and Rosalie met up with Delta that Zoey realized the two of them were holding hands. The fox-eared girl’s lips curled in amusement, giving a pointed flick of her eyes at their entwined hands.
 
“I’m taking it you two worked something out, then.”
 
Rosalie blinked down at her and Zoey’s hands, which apparently had gone forgotten for her, too. She withdrew, flushing, but otherwise pretending nothing had happened, in classic Rosalie fashion. 
 
“Zoey will explain,” Rosalie said, sniffing. “But yes, we have. Let’s get breakfast. I’m starving.”
 
Down in the lobby, served three steaming plates of ham, eggs, and hashbrowns by the innkeeper, Zoey, Rosalie, and Delta convened at a table tucked in the corner of the tiny inn’s lobby. The innkeeper had barely left before Delta leaned forward and said, “Okay, spill it. Wasn’t expecting you two to be all bright and happy. What changed?”
 
“Zoey’s rune advanced,” Rosalie said. “It provided … a neat solution.”
 
“That’s fortunate,” Delta said, eying Zoey. “But I can’t imagine how.”
 
“It’s odd,” Rosalie said. Then, apparently not wanting to hold this conversation herself, or maybe honest in how hungry she was, she picked up her fork and pointedly tuned them out. 
 
“Odd,” Delta repeated, turning to Zoey. She snorted. “Yeah, what isn’t odd with you?”
 
Should Zoey take offense at that? Probably not. It was a fair enough accusation. “It’s, uh, a skill that gives bonus experience the longer we go between shards.”
 
“What?”
 
“That’s … more or less it. Isn’t very specific.” To Zoey’s knowledge, runes rarely were. The details had to be discovered through experimentation. “So it might not even be a perfect solution. But,” she shrugged. She didn’t need to finish the statement. Even a potential solution was better than the dilemma they’d been in before.
 
“Huh,” Delta said. “Okay. So?”
 
“So?”
 
“We’re sticking together?”
 
“That’s the plan?”
 
“Are we getting more?”
 
“More, uh, team members?” Zoey glanced at Rosalie. “That’s a group decision, I guess. Do we need more?”
 
Rosalie shrugged. She was shoveling down food with an abandon that was, honestly, a break in her normal composure—enough to give Zoey pause. Zoey wasn’t sure what to make of it. Maybe the solution, the relief, had been even greater for Rosalie than Zoey had thought. She did seem to have an ease in her shoulders, a slouched, relaxed posture, that Zoey hadn’t seen … maybe ever. 
 
Zoey fought away a grin. Rosalie might have recognized the dilemma, and been genuinely considering leaving, but it had been something causing her deep conflict. She didn’t want to leave—enough that even if it had been common sense to do so, she still might not have.
 
“Only if we can find someone worth our time,” Rosalie grunted. She made a noise of appreciation. “This is good.” She skewered another slice of ham and shoveled it into her mouth. 
 
“Easy there, Princess,” Delta said, eyebrows raised. She’d noticed Rosalie’s odd mood too, the break in her typical composure. “Don’t you need to breathe?”
 
“Or less,” Rosalie said. “I could go with less teammates, too.”
 
Unlike her usual scathing comments, this one almost seemed playful. Delta’s eyebrows continued to creep up, and she grinned, turning to Zoey.
 
“So. She got lucky this morning, did she?”
 
Rosalie choked on her food. 
 
Though God knows why, Zoey thought. How could Rosalie have reactions like that, still? Rosalie had literally had fourteen inches of her cock inside Zoey yesterday, and Delta had watched the whole thing. The implication they’d slept together shouldn’t be something that had Rosalie sputtering.
 
And they hadn’t even slept together this morning, even. It was an incorrect assumption. The past twelve hours had been perfectly chaste. Maybe the first twelve hours of theirs that had been so.
 
“Let me correct myself. Less teammates would definitely be better,” Rosalie shot at Delta, when she’d controlled her choking. “Very much so.”
 
Delta rolled her eyes and turned back to Zoey. “I know a few people, if we do want more. And you need a tutor. Could kill two birds with one stone—we need a primary spellcaster. DPS focused.”
 
Zoey blinked at the casual use of ‘DPS’. 
 
Why were gaming terms so baked into this world? She didn’t think ‘damage per second’ was an acronym that should arise naturally, even accounting for the game-like mechanisms this world operated on. Even LFG had stretched Zoey’s disbelief, but it made some sort of natural sense. DPS, not as much.
 
“Aren’t I the spellcaster?” Zoey asked, obviously not bringing it up. “It’s normal to have two?”
 
“I’m assuming you’re gonna end up support focused,” Delta said. “Can’t say for sure, with you still on first advancement, but it seems safe. Princess makes an adequate tank, too, though we might want a dedicated one. Two damage, off-tank, tank, support.” 
 
She glanced at Rosalie, who shrugged in agreement. “Uninspired. But adequate.”
 
“And since we’ll be hanging around town for a while …” Delta trailed off. “How long, anyway? It gives bonus experience, up to how big of a break?”
 
Well. Rosalie needed to be heading back to her family eventually. “A few weeks? Two, to be safe?”
 
Again, Rosalie shrugged. “Two weeks is fine.”
 
Which brought up another point. More important, even, than how they’d be occupying and training Zoey in the short term. “You don’t have any attachments to Treyhull, do you?” she asked Delta.
 
Delta blinked. “I mean. Few friends, contacts, know the area. Nothing anchoring me. Why? Trying to set up somewhere else?”
 
“Eventually, yes,” Rosalie replied in Zoey’s stead. “After the next shard, I’ll be heading to family.”
 
“And taking us with?”
 
The seventh shrug of the conversation. “Zoey would want you to come. And you’re … acceptable, in the strictest sense of the word.”
 
“Aw. Stop it, princess. You’ll make me blush.”
 
It seemed in face of the biggest problem being solved, Rosalie had taken an unusually hands-off approach to their planning. That the ‘real problems’ had been solved and the rest was, more or less, simply details. And while details were something Rosalie normally loved to manage, Zoey suspected Rosalie would only become opinionated on them down the line. Right now, she was basking in the convenience—and relief—of the seemingly unsolvable suddenly solved.
 
“Though,” Delta said, leaning back in her chair. “Meeting the family. That’ll be fun.” A short pause, then, “I’m great with parents.”
 
“Uh huh,” Zoey said.
 
Delta flashed a grin at her. “What?” she said. “Does something about me imply ‘bad with polite company’?”
 
“Everything?” she suggested.
 
“Well … yeah,” Delta said. “Guilty as charged, I guess.” 
 
“It’s going to be a disaster,” Rosalie said. “I don’t even want to think about it. Next topic.”
 
“You haven’t told us who you are, yet,” Delta said.
 
“No, I haven’t.”
 
A pause. Delta waited.
 
Zoey veered them off the dangerous topic. Rosalie seemed to intend to tell them eventually, but not yet. “You know someone,” Zoey prompted. “A mage. That can train me? And join the party?”
 
“Yeah,” Delta said, frowning, but giving up on pushing Rosalie. Purple eyes turned back to her. “She’s a bit of … a personality. But I like her.”
 
“What’s she like?”
 
Delta frowned. “I don’t like making people’s minds up for them. So you’ll meet her and decide yourself.” A smirk crept onto her lips. “Or, if you meant in a different way—well, you appreciate all shapes and sizes, don’t you? She’s a bit flat, but let me tell you—you’ll like what you see.”
 
“Not what I meant,” Zoey said, amused. Though, inappropriately, and shallowly, she did appreciate the fact Delta seemed to think she was attractive. Considering the sort of dynamic Zoey’s class filled, that would make things easier. “But you think she’ll … be fine with everything?”
 
“I’ll be the one to tell her,” Delta said. “I’ve known her for a bit. Done some wayfaring together. It’ll go down easier coming from me.”
 
“Go easy on the details,” Rosalie said. “Zoey’s class needs to stay a secret.”
 
Delta rolled her eyes. “I’m not a blabber-mouth like your girlfriend, so don’t worry.”
 
Rosalie snorted.
 
Delta—and Zoey—waited.
 
Rosalie stiffened. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
 
“She isn’t?” Delta asked.
 
Rosalie gave her a disdainful look, and spared some of it for Zoey, too.
 
Like usual, it was up to Zoey to drag things back. “What class is she?”
 
“Maddy? Illusionist. Not the heaviest DPS, but seems like you’re capable of some yourself, so I think it balances out.”
 
“Illusionist. Huh.” Inappropriately, Zoey’s mind wandered to what kinds of things an illusionist could do in the … less appropriate sense of fighting. Then—fuck it, right? Sex was clearly a part of their profession, so long as Zoey accompanied her team into shards. So she voiced it out loud. “Something like that might be useful in boss fights. Dunno how, but versatility never hurts.”
 
“That’s true,” Delta said. She leaned forward conspiratorially. “You’re not the only one who’s thought it. I have it on good authority she doesn’t wear clothes—just wears an illusion around.” 
 
“Are you serious?” 
 
Delta shrugged. “Maybe I just made it up. What do you think?”
 
Zoey narrowed her eyes and tried to read Delta … but she couldn’t. 
 
“But yeah,” Delta said, laughing. “I bet she could do all kinds of freaky things. Illusions are useful. She’s in high demand, so she might be hard to snag.”
 
“Have you two … ?”
 
“Fucked?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Nah. We’re just friends.” A pause. “Not that I wouldn’t.”
 
“Is there anyone you wouldn’t?” Rosalie muttered.
 
“This is where I say you,” Delta shot back. Then, a sideways grin. “But some lies are too blatant, even for me.”
 
Delta’s response had Rosalie’s face turning red with comical speed. As usual, she pointedly didn’t reply, focusing instead on her plate of food.
 
Which reminded Zoey of yesterday’s escapades. Zoey wondered how thoroughly the body-swaps had affected Rosalie. Rosalie definitely had appreciated using Delta’s body. In a way, she’d lost her virginity—cock-virginity, at least, for an awkward way to put it—to the fox-girl as much as she had to Zoey. It’d been Zoey piloting Delta’s body, but it had to be hard for Rosalie to ignore the fact it had been Delta’s body she’d been thrusting into.
 
And she was blushing a little too brightly at Delta’s teasing for Zoey not to think Rosalie might return the sentiment—that Delta wasn’t a ‘hard no’, either. Their personalities might not mesh, but attraction? It was there. Maybe it had always been, but it’d become more pronounced since the events of the last shard.
 
Zoey would have to keep working that angle. It’d already been established that polyamory was more common in this world than Zoey’s, and Zoey would be ecstatic if these two girls could work out their issues—grow closer to each other. In … a few senses of the word. Because a threesome with Rosalie and Delta? Where everyone was enjoying each other, rather than just Zoey and one of them at a time? 
 
Er … probably best Zoey didn’t think about it. She might have received those ‘Panties of Holding’, but she didn’t have them equipped. Hardening would be as insanely obvious as always.
 
“Back to Maddy,” Zoey said, maybe a bit too loudly to not be suspicious. “If she’s an illusionist, she’ll still be able to train me?”
 
“Mages are mages,” Delta said. “Sure. Not perfectly, but yeah. The bigger question is, how are you going to keep topped off?”
 
It took a second for Zoey to understand. Right … because I need to collect lust to keep casting spells. Presumably, during a training session, she’d be pelting off spells faster than normal. So even more recharges would be necessary.
 
“Better put the moves on her,” Delta smirked, “because I’m pretty sure me and blondie are gonna have our own stuff going on.”
 
Rosalie nodded in agreement.
 
“And what will you be doing?” Zoey asked, curious. 
 
“Training. Research,” Rosalie said. “Vetting for a fifth member, our tank—if Delta doesn’t have one.”
 
“None good enough for your standards,” Delta admitted. “Tanks are hard to find.”
 
“And other things,” Rosalie continued. “I might have an excuse to not rush shards as fast as possible, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be advancing through alternate methods.”
 
Zoey’s own plans would include alchemy, spell casting, and general combat training, so she’d have a packed schedule too. Plus, hopefully, that date with Rosalie—she assumed that was still on the table. Which, speaking of, she needed to work something out.
 
And hopefully some outings with Delta. She wanted to get to know her teammates better. In a more casual scenario, not this hectic life-and-death frenzy that had been the standard. Something calm. Easy-going. She didn’t think this fantasy world had movies, but something of the sorts. A play? That’d been the standard in old-times, hadn’t it? 
 
Or a picnic? A picnic sounded nice. Anything with Rosalie or Delta sounded nice. They were just … enjoyable to be around.
 
That crush might be expanding to two girls, from one.
 
“And you?” Zoey asked Delta.
 
“Get wicked drunk?” she said, shrugging. “You’re free to join me. Besides that, the usual. Some of what blondie said. I’m not wholly a slacker.”
 
Zoey laughed. 
 
Getting wickedly drunk … honestly, didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. Maybe she’d spare a night to take the offer. Rosalie wouldn’t approve of the lack of studiousness … but on the flip side of that coin, Zoey also planned to be chipping away at that aspect of Rosalie. She needed to learn to cut loose.
 
It might take some effort, but either way, she was excited to try.
 
3.04 - Intermission, Introspection
 
It was pretty inconvenient being spat out in a random pocket-realm after finishing a shard. As far as ‘enjoyable game mechanics’, Zoey would give that one a zero out of ten.
 
The good news was, the exit-realm was usually in the vicinity of the entrance-realm, for a loose sense of ‘vicinity’. As in, it wasn’t likely they’d be spat out halfway across the world—though apparently possible—but rather a short distance, perhaps a half-day travel from where they’d started, on average.
 
Fitting to that norm, the trip back to Treyhull took about seven hours. They set off early, just after eating breakfast, accompanied by a golem-woman who wasn’t a tenth as talkative as Zoey and Rosalie’s first guide.
 
Which was fine. They made conversations themselves, the tall, bulky woman setting a quick pace, with the three of them trailing behind at enough of a distance to have privacy in what they were saying. Zoey appreciated the lack of mindless chatter, honestly. 
 
The trip was less exhausting than the first. Zoey still needed to lean on stamina potions to some extent, but not half as much. Her feet got sore slower, as did her muscles. Her progression through advancements—to second, now, technically—had come with benefits. Though her class wasn’t focused on physical durability or speed, she’d grown stronger passively. To a lesser degree than a class like Rosalie’s or Delta’s would’ve provided, but noticeable nonetheless.
 
Plus, a mundane sort of growth. She’d been on her feet constantly since arriving in this world, and partaking in all sorts of … physical activities. She’d grown passively more durable, and acquired better mental endurance, too—she could push her aching muscles to the back of her mind.
 
In the meantime—during the walk—Rosalie and Delta haggled how the loot split would work. While final decisions couldn’t be made until they’d had the items appraised—both for price, and effects—they could still work out plenty of the details in advance.
 
Wasn’t that hard, even, since Rosalie kept her stance from earlier: she didn’t care about low-level loot, beyond selling it for supplies. By the sounds of it, she had enough coin on her person that wasn’t particularly concerning, either.
 
And, knowing Rosalie’s social status—even if not specifically—money wouldn’t be a problem for her once she returned to her family. So the whole thing, Rosalie didn’t care much for.
 
She still bickered and haggled, but Zoey got the sense she did it to annoy Delta, and out of an ingrained need to ‘stay even’—to get what she felt she was deserved. 
 
Zoey’s and Delta’s splitting of loot was the trickier one. Initially, Delta had claimed she cared about practical loot, and that Zoey could have all the lewd items. Unfortunately, she seemed to be reversing that opinion. 
 
Which was good news and bad news. Good news because Delta taking a higher interest in sex items was … well, Zoey wasn’t going to complain. Bad news, because Zoey wanted all of the lewd items; pretty much all of them seemed fun in some way or another. It was implied she and Delta would share them as available, but ‘ownership’ status needed to be doled out. 
 
Zoey hoped Delta stuck with the team for … well, ever? Until the world was saved, whatever that meant? … but Delta was more practical than to take her continued presence in the party for granted. So, well-defined bounds of who owned what, should the party split. It looked like they’d be sticking together for the short term—maybe even medium and long term—but anything could happen.
 
Zoey got all the alchemy reagents. She also got the panties of holding. Delta had wanted them too, because they worked for a pussy as much as a cock, but Zoey actually needed them; they were convenient for when Zoey had to keep her secret … well, a secret. 
 
And sure, she’d made the previous determination to keep her secret ‘on display’ on the off-chance someone saw and took interest, but for situations where Zoey legitimately did want to keep her equipment down-low on the down-low … say, for example, when Zoey finally met with Rosalie’s family … the panties became less convenient and more a necessity.
 
So Delta parted with them reluctantly. She did, however, extract a promise that Delta got to ‘have Zoey’s cock’ when they’d been identified and declared safe by Fe. She was … surprisingly tight-lipped on what, exactly, she planned to do with it. Knowing Delta, Zoey was about as scared as she was excited. Zoey suspected ‘taking it around town’ to use as a living strap-on might be the smallest of plans Delta had.
 
Rosalie hadn’t been pleased about that—about not getting to be the ‘Keeper of the Cock’—but Delta had sneered that Rosalie ‘would get her turn, too, blondie, so chill out’. Rosalie seemed satisfied by that, which, uh, also concerned Zoey, honestly. Not as much as Delta … but still concerned her. 
 
Not that Zoey was complaining, per se. Just, a bit conflicted about what ‘free use’ of Zoey’s cock meant, without her being present. Or a two mile radius, even.
 
Much as Zoey hadn’t wanted to, she’d needed to share. Delta got some of the loot. Namely, the Ink of Empowering Degradation, and the Mirror of Deep Echoes. The last, of course, being the crown-jewel. Delta had been willing to trade almost everything else for it.
 
Her reasoning had been pretty simple. It’d been something she’d already explained, the moment she’d seen the item. 
 
It was a way for Delta to have a cock.
 
Zoey was a bit amused at how much Delta had enjoyed being in Zoey’s body. Maybe even more than Zoey, who had been a bit slow to warm up to the idea, Delta liked having something extra between her legs. The Mirror, which let her take someone’s body, meant she’d have a way to do that, through Zoey.
 
Or turn into a guy, Zoey guessed. Would Delta do that? Zoey was pretty sure she’d rather just take Zoey’s body. She had … a lot more down there than most did, anyway. And both parts, not just one—which she suspected Delta would prefer. Zoey’s disorientation in having both parts was lessening, but hadn’t fully gone away. 
 
After the discussions on loot—because that could only last so long, considering a seven hour trek through multiple pocket-dimensions—their talks turned more practical. They hammered out the details behind their schedules, how they would handle their return, and the coming ‘break’. 
 
Exact details depended on whether Delta had an easy contact through her friend—Madeline—to train Zoey. Rosalie had questioned Delta whether Maddy was a ‘sufficient tutor’, and Delta had assured Rosalie she was skilled, but more importantly, ‘a sweet girl, and trustworthy’. Rosalie had seemed briefly hesitant, but while she didn’t get along with Delta, she respected her professional opinion—hence why she’d teamed with Delta in the first place.
 
Speaking of Rosalie and Delta’s ‘getting along’, the friction seemed to be easing up. Zoey doubted they’d ever be all smiles and bright-and-gooey with each other, but they were falling into a type of friendly bickering, rather than hostile. Like siblings, almost, though that was definitely not a good way to define the dynamic, now that Zoey put more than a second of thought into it. Definitely not sisters.
 
Because, Zoey noted, Rosalie’s eyes were catching on Delta’s hips, ass, and bust with far greater frequency than before. Rosalie’s fucking of the fox-eared girl’s body, through Zoey, had done a great job at warming her up to Delta—or at least her body. Which Zoey counted as a big win for team dynamics. And more selfishly, a big win for herself. Zoey couldn’t wait for the first time they all decided to be together, and not in a ‘watch each other while the other two go at it’ way.
 
During the lulls—the long breaks in which they simply trudged forward, not speaking—Zoey did some mental planning for her date with Rosalie.
 
It was a big event. A world-ending event. Something that had Zoey’s stomach clenching whenever she thought about it. How in the world was Zoey supposed to come up with something that could impress Rosalie? Zoey wasn’t an anxious person by nature, but the idea of taking Rosalie out on a date had her sweating.
 
Rosalie was … well, possibly this world’s version of royalty. Or, probably not that intense. Delta’d simply said she suspected high-ranking guild officers, so, shit, Zoey didn’t know—a senator’s daughter, to use an Earth equivalent she could understand?
 
Zoey was just some girl.
 
Or, she guessed not really, anymore. She was the chosen paladin of the goddess of sex. Not ‘some girl’. But she still felt that way. 
 
Rosalie was just—so amazing. It would be impossible to come up with a date that could show what Zoey felt.
 
Slowly, Zoey came to the conclusion trying too hard was exactly how things would go wrong. And trying too hard, trying to take Rosalie somewhere fancy, classy, and live up to her status—Zoey shouldn’t. Couldn’t, even. Rosalie had grown up with old money, status, and under excruciating standards.
 
What Zoey should give to her was a normal date. 
 
A picnic at the park. Feed the ducks, bask in the sun and the fresh air—something low-key, relaxing, without expectations. Maybe Zoey would bring along a poetry book and read sappy stanzas to her, see how long Rosalie could keep a straight face, thinking Zoey was serious. Hell, knowing Rosalie … it might work. Either way, the blush it would draw out would be amazing.
 
But something organic. Something neither of them had to pretend for. She thought Rosalie would appreciate that. And they had something, didn’t they? Just being around each other, naturally? Forcing things would be how it went wrong.
 
Rosalie had said ‘a girlfriend of hers would need to try her hardest’, and Zoey would. But not in a way that was contrived—that wasn’t Zoey. Zoey would put the work in, have a nice day planned, but it’d be something Rosalie’d never experienced: something calming, low-key, where she could breathe.
 
And that decided, Zoey was suddenly not that stressed. 
 
3.05 - An Accident?
 
The long trip up Treyhull’s titanic stairway, carved into the center of one of the jungle-realm’s enormous trees, sucked as much as the first time, but at least it heralded their return, and a relaxing—hopefully—two week break. 
 
Apparently, there were elevators, or magical equivalents, but however rich Zoey suspected Rosalie to be, she was surprisingly miserly; they took the stairs rather than the easier, more expensive, way up.
 
They said their good-byes to the guide at the Last of the Forest’s guildhall. Rosalie paid the woman’s fee, then some extra as a standard-expectation tip, and she parted without fanfare. Zoey briefly wondered whether she’d be resting in the city for the night before heading back out, or whether the golem woman would returning to her snowy outpost without break. She did seem unruffled despite their trip, and her stoic nature gave Zoey the impression she’d chosen her career because she liked the long hours of silent trudging.
 
From there, they split up, to Zoey’s slight disappointment. Rosalie headed off with their mundane equipment, intending to drop it off with Anja. Zoey and Delta, on the other hand, were tasked to handle the other half: the identification of lewd items through their other contact, Fe.
 
The store was unusually empty. There were neither patrons, nor Fe herself standing behind the counter. Slow day, Zoey guessed, since it was definitely open. She and Delta peered down the various aisles, and around the store, seeking the owner out.
 
They found Fe bent over—in a highly compromising position—in the corner of the shop, apparently trying to get to a hard-to-reach spot at the back of a shelf. Cleaning? She seemed to be wiping it down, but it was hard to tell for sure. Items were piled on the ground, to be re-stocked shortly. At a guess, Fe had taken advantage of the slow day to get some freshening up done.
 
Compromising. Zoey might’ve understated it. Fe was wearing a short skirt today, and—don’t ask her how—it seemed to have flipped up and bunched at the top of her lower back as she vigorously cleaned away the deep recesses of the shelf. Her enthusiastic motions … made the sight even more difficult to ignore. Her ass laid on plain display, pale blue panties squeezing and shaping her cheeks in an agonizingly amazing way, and her plush curves bounced with the rough back-and-forth scrubbing movements.
 
Delta, of course, was delighted—she shot Zoey a grin with raised eyebrows. She opened her mouth to say something—and Zoey could imagine a dozen taunts, or lewd comments she might give—but she paused, then thought better of it. Delta might have some issues with keeping her mouth under control, but she wouldn’t outright harass a stranger. However … amazing … the sight they’d stumbled on, Fe wasn’t part of their group, and unasked-for comments about her body wasn’t something socially permissible, even to Delta’s filter-lacking tendencies.
 
Zoey took one relief in the situation, at least. After so much degeneracy and lewdness, a bent-over girl with her panties showing wasn’t quite such an appealing site that Zoey couldn’t keep herself settled. With the Panties of Holding still not identified and tested—the reason they were here—she still had to keep her reactions under control, unless she wanted a fourteen-inch pillar in her pants becoming even more noticeable than it was normally. And seeing how Fe was a professional contact of theirs, Zoey needed to keep things friendly.
 
Though, still a close thing. Not an easy task to keep calm. Fe really did … have a lot going on. And she was seriously working away at the tough stain she’d run into.
 
Zoey cleared her throat. “Uh, Fe?”
 
The plush sheep-girl startled, then banged her head against the upper shelf—she’d been deep between them, hence her compromised, bent-over position—in surprise.
 
“Ow!”
 
“Are you—!”
 
Fe staggered out from between the shelves, rubbing her head. Her skirt corrected itself, partially, flipping back down. Fe finished settling it, tugging and smoothing it out, though passively, an idle correction, as if she hadn’t realized what had happened, or that she’d fixed it. 
 
That was for the best, Zoey guessed. Though how she’d ‘accidentally’ had her entire ass on display was … a bit suspicious, if Zoey were honest. Not really something that ‘just happened’, she felt like. Even if Fe seemed more ditzy than most. But what was Zoey implying? That Fe’d been hoping for someone to walk in on her like that? Her banged head—still being rubbed in pain—contradicted that.
 
“Zoey,” Fe said, blinking. “You’re back.” The bright smile that appeared on her face didn’t seem like a customer-service reaction. It had Zoey’s own smile appearing. “And company.” Fe turned to Delta.
 
Delta quirked an eyebrow at Zoey, a quick aside, before addressing Fe. It could’ve meant anything, but by the teasing smile threatening to break out on her lips, Zoey suspected it was something not entirely appropriate. Something along the lines of, ‘wow, you didn’t tell me your identifier was hot’, or, ‘that’s a big smile you got there, Zoey. Should I be worried for blondie?’
 
“Hey,” Delta said. “Delta, Zoey’s teammate. It’s nice to meet you.”
 
“Fe. And you as well.” Fe’s attention turned back to Zoey; she seemed eager to get to the meat of the conversation. “Successful adventure? That means you two have artifacts for me?” 
 
Her interest, Zoey noted by the gleam in her eye, definitely wasn’t all business. While she’d be getting paid to identify their items, Fe was clearly interested for … more personal reasons.
 
Zoey, briefly, and as she had a few times before, wondered what exactly ‘testing’ entailed. Fe had seemed genuinely shocked at Zoey’s half-joke that it would require ‘cleaning’ afterward … but how else were items like theirs identified?
 
“Several more,” Zoey confirmed. 
 
There’d actually been a few pieces of equipment, this time, that had straddled the line between ‘mundane’ and ‘not’, which the three of them had puzzled over who—Fe or Anja—would be better suited to inspecting. Though some armor was plainly lewd—Rosalie’s vine armor to name the most obvious, which literally wiggled around in her during the middle of a fight—they’d receive a smattering of less inappropriate armor, too. Thigh highs, bras—metal and not—with their centers missing, and other lingerie-like items. 
 
While not as bad as literal butt plugs, erotic piercings, and such, and so Anja probably wouldn’t have too flustered of a reaction, they’d still decided to drag anything questionable to Fe. Fe was slightly more pricey—as a specialist in the strange—but they weren’t struggling with funds, so they’d agreed to take it to the person better suited for it. 
 
Fe put up her ‘busy; please wait’ sign on her counter, then brought Zoey and Delta along to the back room, where, like once before, Zoey and Delta emptied their inventories of the appropriate items and laid them out in two separate piles, belonging to their respective members. 
 
Fe’s eyebrows crept up as she inspected each. She didn’t touch anything, only leaned forward and turned her head side to side as she appraised the items. She didn’t blush, which Zoey gave her credit for, considering  how bizarre the items were. Like usual, a consummate professional.
 
“And I don’t know if it’s too much trouble,” Zoey said, “but is there any chance we can get these in specific handled? Early?” She held up the linking plate and the panties. “They’re, um, convenient. How long would one item take, if we pay extra? Could you have it done in the next few hours?”
 
Fe scanned the two objects, presumably inspecting them, then her eyes flicked to Zoey’s crotch before hastily correcting back up. “Oh,” Fe said. “Convenient. Um. Because. Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t normally do rush orders like that. Next-day is the best I do, usually.”
 
“But you’ll make an exception?” Delta interjected, leaning forward with a hint of a smirk on her lips. “Because you sympathize? With Zoey’s big inconvenience?” There was a little too much emphasis on the word ‘big’—it drew another flick of Fe’s eyes to Zoey’s crotch, and the first hints of a blush.
 
Zoey wasn’t sure what Delta was doing. Teasing Fe, obviously. But why? Delta had seemed previously determined to keep things professional—if there was a chance to tease Fe, it would’ve been catching her bent-over by the shelves.
 
“And,” Delta said casually, “she can show you how it works, if it helps speed things up. Helps you understand the item.”
 
The pink spread, and a third flick of Fe’s eyes.
 
Zoey said, confused, “I can?”
 
“I suppose I do sympathize with her predicament,” Fe said. “And for a repeat customer, it would be a show of good faith to make an exception. And you’re right, demonstrating would … would help me understand the item’s use more clearly. Expedite the process.”
 
Oh.
 
Zoey understood what was happening. Apparently, Delta had a better read on Fe than Zoey did. Up to this point, Zoey had thought Fe’s slight awkwardness simply a result of their circumstances—because they were strange. But Delta’s prompting—and Fe’s response—had made things clear.
 
“Perfect,” Delta said, the grin becoming more obvious. “We’re all professionals here. Go ahead and show it off, Zoey. She needs to understand what she’s in for.”
 
But, uh.
 
Show it off? Just like that? So abrupt?
 
Zoey was supposed to pull down down her pants and demonstrate the item’s use, while Fe was staring at her with big eyes, and a quickly growing redness in her face? Delta had produced the most flimsy possible excuse to set this up. And it had worked?
 
Then again, a chance to show off for Fe? Her heart rate picked up, and by no conscious decision—obviously—her cock started to swell inside her pants. Delta grinned at her, standing next to Fe. She was delighting in the situation she’d instigated. Happier about it than Zoey, even.
 
“Right,” Zoey said. “Demonstrate.” 
 
Well. Might as well get to it. She fumbled with her belt, then unlooped it, setting it on the long desk with the unidentified artifacts. Her boots came next, kicking them off, and her pants and boxers after that, both in one smooth motion.
 
And so she was naked from her waist below, besides her socks. Somehow, wearing a shirt and socks made her feel ten times more exposed than if she’d been stripped naked. 
 
Her cock stood at full attention, and Fe’s eyes were glued to it. The flush now suffused her entire face, and she seem enraptured. Delta also gave it an appreciate look, but mostly she seemed to be enjoying Fe’s reaction. 
 
Zoey wasn’t quite sure whether this was more awkward or hot—or maybe, it was the first making the second so much more intense. Their explanations for this had been contrived, and Fe accepted them so quickly; she’d wanted to see Zoey expose herself.
 
Which … still didn’t make being the only one half-naked in this room any less awkward, but Zoey’s perverted side was enjoying things. Exposing herself to someone like Fe, who was entranced by the member sticking out, fourteen inches of throbbing excitement. 
 
Not to mention the thick black writing on her pelvis. ‘DELTA AND ROSIE’S FAVORITE TOY’. It was an impossible thing to miss, and Fe definitely hadn’t. 
 
Zoey wasn’t sure how to address that, so instead she ignored it, grabbing the panties off the table, then stepping into each of the leg-holes and tugging the pink fabric up. She guided her cock into the black portal, and, like the item’s description promised, fourteen inches of cock sprouted from the white linking plate, right in front of Fe.
 
3.06 - Item Testing
 
Despite knowing through the item description what would happen, the arrival of Zoey’s cock—transported through space—onto the white plate next to Fe had her eyes widening to a comical size. She stared, stunned, at the thing jutting in front of her.
 
Zoey’s skin tingled with the idea she was exposing herself to the curvy sheep-girl. Honestly, she was surprised by how turned on she was. After being in so many more perverted situations in the past several days, something as simple as whipping her equipment out shouldn’t have had her heart hammering. But it did.
 
Maybe it was that it didn’t relate to any ‘shard shenanigans’. There were no excuses to hide behind, not really. Delta’s segue of ‘item testing’ was blatantly a cover, something Delta had offered teasingly to Fe to give a feeble reasoning for Fe to not seem overly eager. By the expression on Fe’s face, she knew it as well as the two of them.
 
Delta grinned and cozied up to Fe, slipping an arm around her waist. The action produced a squeak, but only from surprise. Fe didn’t protest; she let Delta invade her personal space.
 
“Looks bigger, somehow, when it’s separated like that,” Delta said. “Doesn’t it?”
 
“It, um, certainly does.” Fe swallowed. “I can see what you mean by this artifact being a convenient find. It would help … hide things.” She shot a wide-eyed look at Zoey, and said, half-apologetically, “honestly, I thought you were doing something to make it more obvious, but you weren’t, were you? It’s just that big. How does it even fit in your pants?”
 
Fe’s eyes turned back to Zoey’s cock. Her brow scrunched down, her flustered demeanor draining to something more serious. “But such a strange effect. And powerful. Spatial dislocation, from a second advancement shard? Restricted to … genitalia … but nonetheless, unusual. Perplexing.”
 
She spoke with a nearly clinical tone, like Fe had fallen back into professionalism to save herself from embarrassment. She did seem overwhelmed. As much by Zoey’s partial nudity—and fourteen inch cock sticking into the air—as, it seemed, by Delta, and her closeness, the way she’d wrapped an arm around her waist and cozied up to her. Fe definitely didn’t seem unhappy about Delta’s quick advances. Just … overwhelmed. 
 
“Go ahead,” Delta said, teasing Fe. “Work your magic. Experiment with it.”
 
Fe squeaked again, for no discernible reason. If Zoey had to guess, Delta’s hand had snuck down and done something Zoey hadn’t seen. 
 
Fe shot a bashful look at Zoey, then stepped forward and peered down at the base of the linking plate. 
 
She laughed once, as if at herself. “I realize we’re playing under a farce here,” she said. “But this really is so fascinating. Do you mind if I do test some things? It’s such a curious item.”
 
“Now, Fe,” Delta scolded. “You shouldn’t go around calling someone’s cock a ‘curious item’. People are sensitive about these things.”
 
Zoey gave Delta an amused look, then said to Fe, “Uh, yeah. Sure.” She was surprised Fe had come out and addressed the so-called ‘farce’ outright. Leave it to a scientist—because that was what Fe was, more or less—to let the erotic scenario she was flustered by to be sidelined by her inquisitive nature.
 
“The obvious first question,” Fe said, “is what would happen if we looped it back. As in, I took the … the …”
 
“Her cock,” Delta suggested.
 
The flush returned. “If I took your cock,” Fe said, tripping over the word, “and fed it back into the panties’ original portal. The opening seemed larger, there, so it would fit. But what would happen? There wouldn’t be space on the exit for a second transportation.”
 
Zoey considered it. Her brain started to hurt. “Nothing that risks cock-vaporization, please.”
 
“Cock vaporization?” Delta asked, quirking an eyebrow.
 
“I mean. Yeah. Who knows what would happen?”
 
“My intuition says it would refuse access,” Fe said. “Act as a physical wall, perhaps, or a repulsive field that grows in strength. But I suppose it’s not worth field-testing. I can run analyses to find answers without risking … risking  …”
 
“Her cock,” Delta suggested.
 
Fe didn’t blush, this time, only side-eyed Delta, lips turning up in. “Her cock,” she emphasized, not stuttering like the previous time, “suffering any undue damage.” She refocused on Zoey’s member. “But more than that, I wonder—is the transport two-way?”
 
Zoey blinked. “There’s no portal on the linking plate, so I’d figure not.”
 
Fe nodded. “I suspect so, but still try?”
 
Some awkward repositioning, and Zoey bumping her cock into smooth plate glass to little success, which had her feeling more than a bit silly, and they confirmed a ‘no’. 
 
“Then my next question is, while active, can attached items transport back?” Fe cleared her throat. “Do you, um, mind?” She gestured at Zoey’s cock.
 
Zoey didn’t know exactly what she was asking, but she trusted Fe to not do anything crazy. “Go ahead.”
 
Tentatively—and with some of the blush that had settled returning—Fe reached out and wrapped cold, tentative fingers around Zoey’s cock. “Now, um, withdraw?”
 
“Pull out?”
 
“I want to see if my hand comes through. Perhaps skin-to-skin contact would allow it?”
 
“This is,” Delta said, “a lot less sexy than I was hoping.”
 
“Oh, we’ll get to that. I’m just curious about—“ Fe froze. Lost in her analytical mindset, the first part of what she’d said had slipped out without thought. She tripped over her words as she continued, pretending she hadn’t said anything. Zoey’s heart-rate picked up, again, at the implication ‘more’ would be coming. Doubly compromising, seeing how Fe’s hand was on her cock. Delta was right; for their circumstances, things hadn’t taken as lewd of a turn as Zoey would have expected. “—about how it functions. Like I said, it’s a fascinating piece of equipment.”
 
“A fascinating piece of equipment? It’s definitely that,” Delta said. “Oh, and the portal panties are pretty cool, too.”
 
Zoey shook her head at Delta, then, doing as told by Fe, she leaned back while pulling her panties down, awkwardly trying to get her cock out of the portal. It was a long, unwieldy thing to finagle out. 
 
She only withdrew a few inches before her efforts were blocked.
 
“Mm,” Fe said. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” Her hand had jammed at the linking plate. “Though …” She let go of Zoey’s cock, then spat in her palm. She rubbed the slippery liquid into Zoey’s sensitive member, and Zoey gasped, softly, in surprise as much as at the sensation. “Try now?”
 
Zoey pulled out. Sure enough, Fe’s spit had come along for the trip. A small patch of her cock glistened in the light.
 
“So bodily fluids work,” Fe said, brow furrowing. “Arbitrary. So arbitrary. But I suppose artifacts are, as a whole. It’s why they’re so fascinating.” Her head tilted. “I wonder, is there a range distance? And would ink work—is any unobtrusive substance permitted? Does the effect function between realms? Shards? It could be used as an incredible long-distance communication tool, if so. If … an absurd one.”
 
“Way less sexier than I thought this’d be,” Delta repeated. “But honestly, kinda living for it. Nerd out. It is pretty cool.” She grinned at Fe. “Plus … and this is just my experience … but the nerdy girls are always the freakiest. So this is promising.”
 
Fe blushed, obviously not standing a chance under Delta’s proximity, and her teasing smirk. 
 
Zoey was honestly a bit jealous at Delta’s confidence, how quickly she’d spotted that Fe would be okay with this, then how easily she’d acted on it.
 
While Delta had obviously intended to drag things back to the lewder starting point she’d set up, Zoey could wait a few more minutes. Though she definitely appreciated Delta’s … what, wing-manning? She was trying awfully hard to get Zoey’s cock wet, for her … Zoey was also as intrigued by this item as Fe. She’d gotten accustomed to magic in a small way after the time she’d spent in this world, but the novelty was hardly gone entirely.
 
“The question we really want answered,” Zoey said, “is whether I can put the linking plate in my inventory while active.”
 
“Oh,” Fe said. “Huh. I wonder. You haven’t tested it?”
 
Zoey raised her eyebrows.
 
“Safely,” Fe amended. “Not with your entire …”
 
“Cock,” Delta supplied for the third time.
 
“Not with your entire cock,” Fe said, shooting an exasperated look at the fox-girl whose arm was still around her waist. Delta gave her a sideways grin, which had even Zoey’s heart skipping a beat, and she wasn’t the one it’d been leveled at.
 
“I don’t think she wants to lose any part of it,” Delta said, for Zoey. “I realize she’s got plenty to spare, but still.”
 
Fe rolled her eyes. “I mean, less dangerous than that, even. Worst case could still be uncomfortable, and hurt, but you two are adventurers, aren’t you? Bunch up a bit of your foreskin and stick the tiniest bit through—then deposit the linking plate. Worst case, you take a health potion to clean up some minor tissue damage. Hardly anything at all—bit of blood, sure, but.” She shrugged. 
 
But as adventurers, Zoey finished, she and Delta had obviously seen worse.
 
And Fe was right: it was a safe worst-case. Obviously the idea of having a tiny portion of her foreskin … severed … wasn’t the most thrilling of ideas, but with magical items like health potions, it was hardly something Zoey couldn’t get over. It would heal right back. And she might not be a real adventurer, but she’d seen more gore even yesterday, fighting through the shard, and against Not-Zoey. 
 
“Huh,” Delta said. “Yeah, that makes sense. I guess we should’ve thought of that.”
 
“Trying to be clever about testing artifacts is usually a poor idea,” Fe said, “and bringing it to a specialist is a good standard to operate by. It’s easy to get yourself hurt, or have unforeseen complications cropping up. But in this case, I don’t think so. It’s a simple, straightforward test.”
 
“Should I do it?”
 
“I could run standard analysis,” Fe said. “I will be, anyway, I presume, since you’re hiring me. So there’s no need. But it would’ve been an effective field test, should you have needed to know.”
 
“Here’s a scientific question,” Delta announced loudly. “There’s a fourteen inch cock—that belongs to a girl—on your table, and you don’t have your mouth around it. What’s up with that?”
 
Fe paused. Her eyes turned to Delta, then Zoey, and she reddened until she was the color of a tomato.
 
“You know,” Fe said. “That is a rather salient question, isn’t it?”
 
3.07 ❤ Friendly Fire
 
This took way longer than it should have, Delta thought. 
 
Delta had had her suspicions on Fe’s attraction to Zoey the second the two of them hard arrived to her store, and Fe’s face had lit up. Before that, even. The debacle with her flipped-up skirt was highly suspicious. Fe couldn’t have known the two of them were going to be the next in her shop, sure, but she’d been in a little too compromising of a situation for Delta to think it had happened naturally. 
 
A certain wide-hipped artificer, Delta suspected, had a thing for exhibitionism.
 
Which, Delta thought … good choice.
 
The nail in the coffin, though, had been when Zoey had brought up the ‘convenience’ of the item they’d found. How the ability to store Zoey’s ‘big problem’ away was something she wanted sooner rather than later. Fe had taken too much interest, there, and her eyes had wandered down to Zoey’s crotch, and stayed, for a little too long.
 
So, how had it taken ten minutes of item-testing musings to get here? Especially when things had started so auspiciously. Delta had thought they were going to get to the good stuff right away.
 
Because Zoey had been determined to cockblock herself. She’d had her equipment laid out in front of Fe, and she’d chosen to … chat about item theoreticals? For several minutes?
 
What was wrong with her? 
 
At least Delta had gotten them back on track. 
 
Fe wrapped a hand around Zoey’s cock, and she stared down hesitantly at the veiny, impressive member. Delta’s heart skipped a beat, sympathetically. Honestly, she wasn’t sure why she was so into this. Why did the idea of getting Zoey’s dick wet turn her on? She’d love to take credit for ‘being a good friend’, but that was only half the truth. Delta liked helping Zoey out, but Fe’s hand around Zoey’s cock did about as much for her as it did Zoey, if she had to guess.
 
“C’mon,” Delta murmured into Fe’s ear. “Don’t be shy. Get down there.” She was still pressed into the shorter girl, and had been since all this had started. Delta was a bit offended her proximity had gone ignored, Fe’s curiosity over the item taking higher priority. Having her body pressed into Fe’s should’ve gotten her all heated up. And it had … just not enough, apparently, to overrule her curiosity.
 
And no, Delta wasn’t pouting about it.
 
“It really … is so big,” Fe mumbled back, amazed. Now that her analytical brain had shut off, replaced by her much more primitive, animal one, Delta’s briefly subdued arousal stirred back up. 
 
Zoey’s too. A bead of precum had sprung up at the tip of her gigantic cock, and it twitched in excitement at the imminent activities. 
 
Delta ran her pointer finger across it, collecting the liquid. “Here,” Delta said. “Try.” 
 
Fe didn’t hesitant. She opened her mouth. Delta rubbed the thick droplet of pre-cum around on her tongue, and Fe sucked, her powerful, slippery appendage rubbing circles around her finger. Delta’s heart skipped a beat at the eagerness. 
 
It really is always the nerdy ones, Delta thought.
 
“That’s a good girl,” Delta said, rubbing her finger around Fe’s mouth, letting it be sucked on. “You like how it tastes?”
 
Fe nodded mutely, face burning. 
 
“You can have more, you’ll just have to work for it. Now get down there.”
 
Fe didn’t need further prompting. Fe leaned forward, hand still wrapped around Zoey’s base, and she pressed her lips to Zoey’s cockhead, giving it a gentle kiss. 
 
Delta was torn between which of the two girls’ reactions to watch—Zoey’s, or Fe’s. She settled on Zoey. Zoey’s eyes widened as Fe’s lips split open, taking Zoey into her mouth. She breathed in, back arching in pleasure. She was dressed from the waist up, and was wearing panties, so not much was showing. Honestly, that did even more for Delta, though. Seeing her groan in pleasure while mostly clothed, and, seemingly, though obviously not actually, having nothing done to her. 
 
“There you go,” Delta murmured, wrapping a hand into Fe’s fluffy white hair, between two curled horns. She pressed down, urging Fe deeper onto Zoey’s cock. “A good businesswoman would go all the way, wouldn’t she? All about keeping customers satisfied, right?”
 
With a gag, Delta’s insistence—both verbal and physical—succeeded: Zoey’s cock slid into Fe’s throat. Delta watched her throat distend out with the size of the object invading it. As amazing as Zoey’s size was for pleasure, the sights it provided was just as fun. The way Delta could see Zoey’s cock go deeper, inch by inch, forcing Fe’s throat out to accommodate. 
 
Delta rubbed her other hand against Fe’s throat, massaging Zoey’s cock through Fe’s skin. Zoey groaned in the background, and it wasn’t only Zoey the feeling was too much for; Fe gagged, and not softly, but enough to have her head jerking up, needing Zoey’s cock out. Delta was a bit disappointed, of course, but while she was happy to help push someone outside their comfort zone, she wasn’t going to literally force Fe to choke on Zoey’s cock.
 
You know. Unless she wanted to.
 
Fe had a brief coughing fit, saliva dripping from her lips into her hands as she hacked away. Zoey’s cock glistened with her spit to about the halfway point—which would’ve been ‘all the way in’ for a regular cock. Fe had her work cut out, if she wanted all the way down. 
 
Delta ought to help her out.
 
“Here,” Delta said. “Get down on the table.”
 
Fe obeyed, again, instantly. As Delta had picked up on, she liked being bossed around. Delta grabbed Zoey’s cock, then cleared space for Fe as she situated herself. 
 
“Turn around.” 
 
Fe did, so she was laying on her back. A few more instructions, and Delta had Fe situated in the position she wanted.
 
Fe laid across the table, stomach facing up, and her head leaning over the ledge. Delta grabbed Zoey’s cock by the plate-glass base, then lined its tip up to Fe’s mouth. Fe opened eagerly, neck pointing to the ceiling, and Delta pressed Zoey’s cock forward.
 
She pushed the object in, slowly but insistently, watching it cram open Fe’s throat. 
 
Delta was fucking Fe’s throat … with Zoey’s cock. For a second, she admired the surreality of the situation, that the dildo in her hands wasn’t a dildo, but Zoey’s actual cock. And she was getting to pleasure Zoey by stuffing open the sheep-girl’s throat with it.
 
Seriously. So awesome. Delta could get used to the items these lewd shards spat out. 
 
Delta bottomed Zoey out, letting the glass touch Fe’s lips. She admired the way her throat bulged out, and the way Fe tried to fight against her gag reflex. 
 
Then she pulled out, and thrusted back in. Fe gagged at the sudden motion, but her hands didn’t shoot up to ask Delta to stop. 
 
Delta thought she had a good read on people. She liked taking charge, and urging her partners to go further than they would on their own, but she wouldn’t ever force something. She watched Fe’s reactions carefully—as she did all of her partners—for indications that her roughness wasn’t something Fe wanted.
 
But the way Fe squirmed didn’t leave much up to interpretation.
 
Delta worked into a rhythm, face-fucking Fe with eager thrusts of her arm, sliding Zoey’s cock in and out with quick squelches, and a background chorus of Zoey, groaning in pleasure, which Delta couldn’t see, occupied with the sheep girl.
 
The world’s best, and weirdest, sex toy.
 
Delta glanced over. Zoey had leaned against the table with both hands, face pointed down as she panted. Her hips wiggled side to side in pace with Delta’s thrusting. The weirdness of all this thrilled through her. This wasn’t a toy she was thrusting down Fe’s throat, but Zoey’s actual cock. 
 
Delta picked up speed. The squelching noises of Fe’s violated throat became louder. So did Zoey’s moans. 
 
Fuck, Delta was so turned on. Why was this so hot?
 
Fe’s hands went up, grabbing Delta’s wrists, and Delta pulled Zoey’s cock out of her throat. She sputtered, like before, as she sucked in oxygen. Fe was eager, but eagerness didn’t mean she didn’t need oxygen.
 
Zoey panted in the background, taking her brief reprieve.
 
Delta didn’t give her long. With Fe having recovered, she pressed Zoey’s cock back against her lips, then back into her throat. She was even rougher, this time. She worked Zoey’s cock into Fe’s tight hole with loud squelches, saliva flying from her lips with the jerking forcefulness of Delta’s movements. Fe didn’t protest. She took Zoey’s cock in and out of her throat like she did it for a living. Delta was legitimately impressed. Fe was, as making itself amazing clear, no amateur to face-fucking. Delta’s assumptions from earlier had confirmed themselves. Nerdy girls … what did the world do to deserve them?
 
Delta slid Zoey’s cock out, letting Fe catch her breath. She set the object to the side, then walked to the opposite end of the long table, to where Fe’s feet were hanging off. She unlaced Fe’s shoes and tossed them to the side. Fe, after catching her breath from her throat-fucking, got to work eagerly, helping undress herself. She knew where Delta was going with this. Fun as a blowjob was, all three of them wanted to get to the good stuff.
 
Fe’s lower half exposed, Delta grabbed Zoey’s cock, then slapped it down on Fe’s stomach. The hot, veiny member stuck up to the base of her breasts. Zoey’s cock was impressive even laid out against Delta, but on a shorter girl—Fe was even smaller than Rosalie—its size seemed downright absurd.
 
A normal girl would’ve commented how it wouldn’t fit, seeing it stick up so far up her body. Fe just started panting, then looked at Delta with begging eyes.
 
Delta slid Zoey’s cock down her stomach, until its shaft was pressed into Fe’s pussy. Delta rubbed the object up and down, delighting in the way Fe wiggled side to side, looking for better friction. 
 
Man. She really wants this. 
 
Delta didn’t blame her.
 
“Lean up,” Delta said. “Don’t you want to see her reactions?” Zoey was standing to Delta’s side, now, so Delta couldn’t see what Zoey was doing, or what faces she was making. But if Fe leaned up, she could. 
 
Fe did so. She got up on one elbow, propping herself up just enough to see Zoey. Their eyes locked, and Fe’s blush deepened. 
 
Delta dipped Zoey’s cock down even further, pressing the tip against Fe’s lower lips. Delta shook it side to side, gently, digging her cock head between soft folds, and just barely starting to spread them—half penetrating Fe, but not. Fe groaned. Behind Delta, Zoey was making similar noises. But Delta was mostly interested in Fe, at this point. Getting Zoey off was just a bonus.
 
“Ready?” Delta murmured.
 
“P-Please.”
 
Delta pushed forward, sinking Zoey’s cock into Fe.
 
Her experience in the shard, with the oversized toy, might have instated a new fascination in Delta—in watching large objects bulge skin outward. Zoey’s cock wasn’t as absurd as the one Delta had ridden, but it was still huge; as Delta pushed forward, sliding Zoey’s cock into Fe’s warm, tight walls, her stomach pushed up in pace with it, Zoey’s member providing a visible indicator of where, exactly, it was venturing. Inch by inch.
 
Delta placed her hand on Fe’s stomach, following the bulge upward as it traveled. She rubbed in circles against Fe, massaging Zoey’s cock through the skin in the same way she had when it’d been in Fe’s throat. 
 
Fe shivered, placing her free hand over her mouth as she squeezed her eyes shut. Taking Zoey’s cock wasn’t an easy thing, even accounting for Zoey’s skill. It had to hurt, at least in some small way. Hence Delta’s slow advance. 
 
The white plate hit Fe’s lower lips, Zoey’s cock fully inserted.
 
Fe released a breath, the growing pressure finally ceasing. Her shoulders slumped down. 
 
Delta got to work.
 
She pulled out, then pushed back forward, sinking fourteen inches back into Fe. Fe cried out and collapsed back onto the table, no longer propping herself up to see Zoey. 
 
Hips could only work so fast. Delta’s pumping arm, using Zoey’s cock as a toy, could move much faster.
 
Delta jerked Zoey’s cock in and out of Fe, fascinated in the way it crawled up her stomach then down with each rapid thrust. The lewd noises of the two girls picked up at the same speed as Delta’s vigor: the room went from breathless moans, gasps, and groans to outright cries of pleasure. Zoey’s cock squelched with Delta’s rapid, urgent thrusting.
 
While the woman laid out onto the table was a rapturous enough sight, Delta turned, glancing to her side. Zoey was fully hunched over, now, forehead pressed into the table as she gripped the ledge with white knuckles. Her hips jerked back and forth as if she were the one providing the motion that was giving her pleasure, not Delta. And instinctive reaction—she couldn’t help herself from making her hips move, not with her cock sliding in and out of Fe.
 
And fuck, it was hot.
 
For all Delta hadn’t even so much as touched herself, she felt awfully close to coming undone herself. If these two girls were finding this a tenth as scorching as Delta, then—
 
Fe cried out, hands scrambling at the table. “Fuck! Yes! Please!”
 
Then that. Fe fell apart under Delta’s thrusting, her back arching as she started to spasm. Zoey’s breath was growing ragged, too, so she was close herself—but not there, yet. Delta continued to pump. She massaged Fe’s stomach as she did, jerking Zoey off with her hand even as her cock pumped into Fe’s insides.
 
Finally, by the raggedness of Zoey’s breathing, Delta could tell she was a second from coming. She pulled Zoey’s cock out. They hadn’t explicitly discussed where to finish, and Delta had realized too late, so the pulling out was the obvious course of action … much as she’d like to pump Fe full. 
 
Delta pressed the linking plate into her own stomach, stabilizing it, and got to work milking out Zoey’s finish. 
 
Fe’s climax had already wracked through her, and she’d clearly started to grow sensitive, so she didn’t complain about Delta pulling Zoey out. She seemed vaguely not-there, anyway; her finish had crashed through her, leaving her seemingly half-conscious.
 
Zoey’s cock swelled, and something crashed to the floor as Zoey’s scrambling knocked some piece of equipment off the crowded table.
 
Here it comes.
 
Delta watched with fascination as the first hot string burst from Zoey’s cock and sprayed onto Fe’s stomach. White liquid coated the sheep-girl’s body in long, sticky strands. Stomach, tits, face, hair—it got everywhere. Intentionally. Delta sprayed her down. And since this was Zoey’s cock, it just kept coming. Plenty of ammunition to drench Fe with. Delta savored in the sight.
 
Then, halfway through using Zoey’s cock as a spray-gun … the intrusive thoughts won. An idea popped into Delta’s head, and she’d always been horrible at controlling herself. Still pumping her hand to work more of Zoey’s payload out, Delta pivoted, lips curling in amusement, and she pointed Zoey’s cock at Zoey herself.
 
Delta laughed delightedly as she hosed Zoey down. The first string caught her on the shoulder, and Zoey, realizing what was happening, staggered up from her keeled-over position.
 
“D-Delta,” she groaned, legs shaking, and holding her hands up as if she could fend Delta off. “What the fuck are you—“ The next string sprayed across her shirt, drenching her, and to her credit, her hands did block some of it.
 
“Come on. You like it.” Zoey’s legs were shaking with the strength of her orgasm … and the way her cock was pushing out hot strings in such powerful spurts gave it away, too. “Open your mouth.”
 
Zoey tried to defend herself for one or two more spurts. Delta’s hand milked expertly away, working as much as she could. She wanted more ammunition. 
 
Whether intentional or not—whether it’d been the pleasure Delta’s hands provided that opened Zoey’s mouth as she whined out her satisfaction—Delta’s next shot was perfect: Zoey’s cock ejected her own hot seed across her face, and into her partially opened lips.
 
Zoey’s complaints fell away. She let Delta milk her cock out onto her face, giving in, closing her eyes as Delta coated her. Her mouth fell open, and plenty of her own cum sprayed into her mouth, which she let happen. Her legs—and body—were shaking so hard Delta was amazed she was even staying upright. 
 
Finally, Zoey’s twitching finish left her. Zoey leaned heavily onto the table. Her eyes were glued shut by the seed covering her face, which she shakily worked at cleaning away. 
 
Delta spared a glance for Fe. She was seated up, having likewise cleared her eyes so she could open them—having been as coated as Zoey. Her face burned red. She’d liked what she’d seen: Zoey’s reactions at Delta emptying Zoey across her own face.
 
“Man,” Delta said, admiring the glistening cock in her hands. “I really, really love this item.”
 
3.08 Alchemy Tutelage
 
“That cheap?” Rosalie asked. “Huh. I expected her to charge more. Our yield was larger, this time, and higher complexity.”
 
Zoey and Delta shared a look. Delta grinned, then turned back to Rosalie and said, “Guess she was feeling generous. Maybe something put her in a good mood.”
 
Rosalie narrowed her eyes, sensing something in Delta’s words, but she didn’t care enough to pursue. She brushed past it.
 
It wasn’t like Zoey was trying to hide what had happened at Fe’s workshop—Rosalie didn’t care if Zoey got around, only the manner in which she did, as with the dressing room attendant—but explaining their encounter with Fe wasn’t something Zoey could just blurt out. 
 
‘Hey, she probably gave us a discount because Delta fucked her brains out. Using my cock.’ 
 
Yeah, that would go over well.
 
And what an odd sort of an encounter it had been, too. Zoey had just stood there; she hadn’t interacted with Fe at all, besides some blushing, steamy looks. Delta had been the one to use her cock to fuck the sheep girl. And what a sight it’d been, especially when paired with how she felt every jerking plunge of Delta’s arm.
 
Portals. Pretty neat stuff. Zoey was really coming around on the stranger set of sex items they were receiving. Variety was the spice of life, and all that. Delta’s adventurous spirit was rubbing off on her; Zoey thought she’d like to try out some weirder items, if they received them.
 
“So,” Rosalie said. “You’re headed to Sabina, next?” Zoey nodded, and Rosalie turned to Delta. “And you, to Maddy?”
 
“That’s gonna be a fun talk,” Delta said, and somehow, she sounded like she meant it. Zoey had found it seriously awkward to explain her class to Delta, but Delta didn’t seem to hold the same reservations. Though, Zoey supposed, it wasn’t her embarrassing situation to be in; it wasn’t her class. But even if it was, Zoey thought Delta might find it hilarious to explain. Clearly, ‘shameless’ was a term well-applied to her orange-haired team member. “I wonder how she’ll take it,” Delta said. “I don’t think she’s a prude, but she doesn’t get around, either. A sex class might be a bit much for her.”
 
Rosalie didn’t seem concerned. “There’s always other options. And she only needs to train Zoey—joining the team is peripheral.”
 
Though, Zoey thought, she still needed to work out how to ‘recharge’ during practice. It only worked with bonded targets, and asking Maddy to take care of it—a stranger—would be going way too far. 
 
Zoey figured she might as well bring it up. Because there was a solution.
 
Zoey cleared her throat, though, hesitant at having to broach the topic. Delta was the shameless one, not her. “Uh. Recharging, during lessons. I think there might be a way to handle that? Without locking one of you down.” Having to accompany her, Zoey meant. “The portal.”
 
“Escort it around, and any time it gets hard, take care of it?” Delta asked, grinning. “Yeah, I was thinking that, too. Probably our best option, so you don’t run out of juice. But who? Me, or Princess?”
 
Rosalie sniffed. “It depends when. That’s hardly something that can be handled out in public. But I suppose if I must, I could work the event into my schedule. Perhaps during training.”
 
“Don’t sound too excited,” Delta grinned. She saw through Rosalie’s colored cheeks as easily as Zoey; the idea of needing to remotely ‘take care’ of Zoey titillated her. “But yeah. Comes down to scheduling,” Delta agreed. “Can be either of us. We’ll figure it out when I talk to Maddy, get a time she’s available.”
 
Zoey nodded, and a brief silence settled across the trio.
 
“Okay,” Delta said. “Sounds like we have our plans. Meet up at the Guild, whenever, we’ll figure out our next steps.”
 
###
 
It was a bit odd being on her own.
 
Zoey had been accompanied nonstop since her arrival to this fantasy world. Either Rosalie, or Delta, or Not-Zoey—but besides small moments here and there, picking out clothes or shopping, Zoey hadn’t struck out on her own in any meaningful way. Now, winding through the crowded streets and bridges of Treyhull, Zoey was alone. Unaccompanied.
 
It felt weird, honestly. And she must be growing stupidly co-dependent, because not a few minutes after parting, she already missed Rosalie and Delta. To her credit, how couldn’t she?
 
Navigating on her lonesome was the smallest amount intimidating, too. There were maps and navigation boards scattered throughout the expansive city, but Rosalie had been the one to handle it, before. Not that it was overly complicated—the city was designed with visitors in mind, considering the nature of the Fractures—but still, Zoey had gotten used to relying on Rosalie for … well, everything. Zoey hadn’t needed to be independent in about any way.
 
She found her way to the artificing district, only making a few wrong turns. She’d never been someone with a great sense of direction. If nothing else, seeing more of the city was exciting; though after a few days the majority of the novelty had worn off, exploring a fantasy world was far from something she’d accustomed herself to. And Treyhull—The City in the Trees—had plenty to admire.
 
Sabina's store was in much the same state as she remembered. While Sabina had a reputation for competency—hence Fe's recommendation of her—that reputation, Zoey had learned, extended only to the alchemy portion of her career. The shopkeeper portion, she couldn't be much worse at.
 
The storefront was in poor condition. The windows had visibly not been cleaned in ages, and while not in outright disrepair, the wooden planks were in need of freshening up, too. Nestled between several stores in much better shape, Sabina's neglect was all the more apparent.
 
Zoey wondered why she spent so little effort in maintaining her store and performing her peripheral duties as an alchemist. Even if she found them tedious or ill fitting of her, a prospering business would allow her to continue her research and advance her runes. That, at least, she should care about.
 
Maybe it wasn't intentional so much as outright ignorance? That seemed unlikely, but then again, Sabina had an air about her of … well, Zoey wasn't sure she was putting this the right way, but from the few interactions she'd had with the tall antlered woman, she didn't seem to think or behave like most people. Her hyper-fixation for experimentation seemed even more prominent than could be excused for a scientist, as Fe.
 
She'd remembered to flip over the 'OPEN' sign, at least.
 
The bell fixed to the top of the doorway rang as she stepped in. 
 
Zoey scanned the interior of the messy alchemy store, looking for Sabina, but she was nowhere to be found. Approaching the cashier's desk, Zoey called out, "Sabina?"
 
"One minute," the delayed reaction came.
 
While Zoey waited for Sabina, she perused the shop. Her two visits to Sabina’s store had been short, and she hadn’t looked around much. Seeing how Sabina was to be her tutor, she would be becoming acquainted with this space. Zoey didn’t know how in-depth she would be going with her crafting rune, but she wanted to give it a fair shot. Maybe Ephy had given it to her for a reason. Assuming Ephy was, in fact, behind the runes she’d received.
 
The store was a mess, in the same way as the outside. Shelves lined the walls, stuffed with potions, ingredients, and contraptions of various shapes and sizes. Utensils for alchemy, undoubtedly, and other strange miscellanea, but Zoey hadn't a clue what each was for. The large cauldron she kept in the corner of the store boiled at a steady, controlled rhythm. Like usual, Sabina had an active brew going, though she'd left it unattended. That part, Zoey didn’t worry over. Sabina might have demonstrated a lack of care in many things, but her ability to brew—that much, she had a pristine record. 
 
Eventually, Sabina appeared, emerging from the back room.
 
What struck Zoey first, like usual, was her height. Zoey had already been tall for a girl before her transformation, and Ephy’s reworking of her body had added a few inches on top of that, from what she could tell. Sabina, however, towered over her, even still. Towered over everyone, just about. Six three? Maybe taller. And her antlers, which branched out another foot or more, added to her frame.
 
Even so, Zoey wouldn’t call her ‘imposing’, necessarily. She was too stick-thin and elegant-looking to be intimidating. But … maybe for a sense of the phrase. She certainly drew attention wherever she went, Zoey felt safe in saying.
 
She was wearing her usual lab gear, which was curiously similar to what Zoey might have seen back home: a white lab coat, goggles, gloves, and practical-looking closed-toe shoes. Ready for working with dangerous substances, which, though Zoey was no experienced alchemist, she assumed there would be plenty of. If nothing else, working with cauldrons of boiling liquid justified the dress.
 
Her goggles were pulled up and placed on her forehead. Cold gray eyes appraised Zoey, and while Zoey wouldn’t call the woman’s figure intimidating, her eyes undoubtedly were. She had the sternness of an orphanage matron, or a school principal—or those were the images that jumped into Zoey’s head, at least. She brooked no incompetence, one could appraise on first sight, and while the woman’s impassive scrutiny of Zoey wasn’t disapproving, it was certainly … well, scrutinizing.
 
To sum it up, she was as hot as Zoey remembered. Zoey’s heart rate inappropriately picked up, and her response came a second slower than it ought to have.
 
“Uh, hey,” Zoey said. “I’m back.”
 
“I can see that.” Sabina’s gaze flicked to the slow-boiling cauldron in the corner of the room, then returned to her. “What did you bring?”
 
No niceties, or polite statements that Sabina was happy to see she hadn’t turned into monster food, but Zoey had expected as much. 
 
“Lots,” Zoey said. “Got a good haul, this time. Some interesting stuff. I was wondering, too, if you weren’t busy—maybe we could have our first lesson?”
 
Zoey realized now might not be the most convenient time. It was daylight hours, and, ostensibly, the time Sabina would be making her living by selling potions. At a minimum, she was working on a brew, as shown by the cauldron in the corner of the room. Then again, Sabina’s shop really didn’t see much traffic, and her active brew could maybe be made the lesson.
 
“Hm,” Sabina said, giving it a second’s thought. “Now is as good as ever, I suppose.” 
 
And yeah, it looked like it was fine. Convenient. And also concerning—seriously, why was this woman so bad at business? Sabina definitely should stay open; wasn’t she barely making ends meet, as it was? 
 
It was a hefty serving of ‘she simply didn’t care’, Zoey thought, but she also felt confident it was ignorance, too. As if the idea she needed to stay open and look for customers to make money didn’t even pass through her head.
 
It wasn’t really Zoey’s place, seeing how she barely knew Sabina, but she might try to broach the subject at some point. Maybe give her a few pointers, though that would be awkward—again, she didn’t exactly have the right, or her own experience managing a business. But obvious suggestions. Like cleaning things up. And … opening and closing at consistent times.
 
Honestly, a partnership might be useful, here. Zoey had some odd ingredients, and with Sabina’s talent with alchemy, they could coax out their uses. Lewd potions of all sorts … if Sabina straightened up her store, there might be money to be made, together. Money didn’t seem like a bottleneck, something Zoey needed to put significant effort into earning, but Rosalie didn’t have access to her family’s funds as it stood, and Zoey wouldn’t want to mooch off her anyway, when the time came that she did.
 
Maybe Zoey could make her own small fortune. Sex potions ought to sell well, wouldn’t they? It depended on just how rare these reagents were, she supposed, and whether there were equivalents to be found.
 
“Your yield,” Sabina said, walking to the counter, and dragging Zoey back from her brief contemplation. “Let’s see it.”
 
3.09 Second Yield
 
“The collection kit you gave me wasn’t much use,” Zoey said, setting it on the counter. “The shard, uh, took our inventories. That might be a recurring trend.”
 
Zoey hadn’t told Sabina what her class was, but she was aware that Zoey’s first shard had involved lewdness … if not the exact specifics. Zoey had also implied, before leaving, that she suspected the second shard would too. Knowing that Sabina was an intelligent woman, and that shards morphed themselves according to the people entering them, she had to suspect it was Zoey, or her teammates, influencing it to be so.
 
Zoey wouldn’t be surprised if she’d deduced the general shape of Zoey’s class, even. She seemed perceptive enough to. At the same time, she visibly didn’t care; she hadn’t questioned Zoey at all, or even seemed interested, beyond how the shards Zoey was venturing into provided unique ingredients. So maybe she didn’t.
 
“You found a similar shard, then?” Sabina asked.
 
“More or less.”
 
“So reagents similar to the first batch.”
 
Zoey nodded.
 
“Perfect.” Sabina seemed pleased.
 
Sabina’s satisfaction wasn’t from perversion—in wanting to experiment with what effects lewd ingredients could provide. Or … in a way, it was. But for the rarity, and novelty, more than the sexual aspects. Zoey didn’t know Sabina well, but that she enjoyed experimenting with rare and unique alchemy reagents was a given. She’d outright said so. It was one of the conditions of her teaching Zoey; Zoey had to provide her with a steady stream of interesting reagents for her to see the arrangement as ‘suitable’.
 
Zoey scooted the kit to the side. She probably ought to bring it along on future expeditions, even if she might never get a chance to use it. No reason to not. Inventories weren’t infinite, but they were pretty big. Plenty of room for the kit.
 
“So,” Zoey said. “I’ll get to it, then.” She hesitated, briefly, on what to drag out of her inventory and showcase first. She should work her way up. Start with the most normal reagents, then get to the … more disorienting ones. Like the gigantic toy’s cum, which Delta had extracted, and Zoey had scooped up in emptied-out potion vials. That would be interesting to explain to Sabina, who would undoubtedly want a full recounting of its origin, simply for practical matters.
 
Fortunately, Zoey didn’t get the sense Sabina would be awkward about any of this. She’d been stalwartly impassive when it came to discussions over the lewd potions and ingredients they’d worked with, in a similar way to Fe, but even more so. Zoey didn’t know whether that was because Sabina was unaffected, or if she was a hard woman to read. 
 
A bit of both, if Zoey had to guess.
 
So. Start with the normal stuff, work up to the weirder.
 
Zoey pulled out the small black bag, tied with a tan ribbon at the top, filled with [Pink Fairy Dusty]. She set it on the counter, and Sabina didn’t waste a moment to inspect the item—both, at a guess, the mundane sort of ‘inspect’, and the ability afforded to denizens of this world.
 
[Pink Fairy Dust]: A shimmering pink powder. Can be used to prepare potions that intensify, and crystallize, dreams.
 
“This one’s not explicitly, uh, lewd, but considering everything else we got, I think it’s safe to assume the effects won’t be … entirely normal.”
 
Sabina pursed her lips as she peered into the bag. She set it down, picked up long, flat metal utensil, then scooped up a tiny portion of the fine powder, inspecting the dust with a steady hand and a keen eye.
 
“Fairy dust,” Sabina finally said. “A common reagent, all things considered. But pink. I’ve never seen pink fairy dust. How intriguing.” She poured the powder back into the bag and tied it off, pushing it to the side. “I’ll trust your intuition. Though, what precisely do you mean?”
 
Sabina’s clinical nature helped Zoey not feel awkward about her explanations. And, sheesh, she had a lot worse to get through, so she better get used to saying embarrassing things without stuttering over herself. “Sex dreams? Maybe makes them more realistic? Can’t say for sure, but something like that.”
 
“We’ll prepare our bases with that assumption in mind, then.”
 
“Prepare our bases?”
 
Sabina paused. “Hm. Before brewing, a potion base needs to be primed with ingredients appropriate to the desired, or suspected, effect. And the proper liquid, as well. It influences what sorts of results can be coaxed from the catalyzing ingredient.” Sabina gestured at the fairy dust. “The ‘main ingredient’, in layman’s terms—the ingredients normally found in shard loot, rather than out and about in the Fracture’s natural terrain, or imported from Haven. We’ll discuss all this during our lessons. Not now. Please, continue.”
 
Zoey had to refrain from further questions. It made sense, of course, that potion brewing wasn’t just throwing a random assortment of items into a pot of water and hoping for the best, but the casual explanation implied brewing might be more complex than Zoey had thought.
 
Honestly, she was excited for it. The same as how she was excited to learn how spell-casting worked, in depth. Rosalie’s expeditious pace had meant Zoey hadn’t had time to learn her runes in any meaningful capacity. 
 
Zoey pulled the next item out. 
 
[Twinrose]: An unidentified alchemy reagent. Two red flowers entwine into each other, preserved but delicate.
 
“Honestly,” Zoey said, placing down the two long, healthy flowers. “I’ve no clue what this one does. The description doesn’t give a hint, either.”
 
Like with the fairy dust, Sabina appraised the flowers with a critical eye. She treated the items as if they would crumble in her hands, though they were, as the description implied, healthy—preserved, two roses entwined, and while severed from their plant, perfectly lush. Certainly not at risk of disintegrating while being handled.
 
Sabina’s tendency to treat items like they were delicate was, presumably, a habit. Zoey ought to do the same. Imitating the masters—or at least, the highly proficient—was, as a general rule, a safe way to improve. And Zoey wanted to acquire bare competence in alchemy as soon as possible. 
 
Which was ironic. She’d told Delta a while ago, during that date of theirs, that Zoey had been a bit useless, growing up. She’d been too distractible, not motivated enough, and she hadn’t made much of herself … or been on a path to do so. But now, transported into a fantasy world, she was interested in applying herself?
 
To be fair, alchemy was a lot more interesting than professions back home. One of the benefits of being, y’know, transmigrated to a fantasy world, was that what everyone else saw as mundane … wasn’t to her.
 
“Curious,” Sabina said. “I suspect it needs to be prepared before the reagent will provide a hint in its description.”
 
“Prepared?”
 
“Diced, ground, burnt—so on.” She frowned. “Though, we have limited supply. Only two flowers. We’ll need to be moderated how we go about testing.” Sabina waved her hand impatiently, as if that would come later, and she didn’t want to discuss it, now. “Next, please.”
 
Zoey didn’t take offense at the brusqueness of the request. “This is where we get to the weirder stuff,” she said. “Our inventories were emptied, but I still kept an eye out for things that might make useful reagents.” Zoey coughed. “And, uh, this is what I collected.”
 
She pulled out four vials of white liquid.
 
[Imbuing Ejaculate]: A thick white substance extracted from an oversized pleasure appendage.
 
Like the first time she’d read the description, ‘oversized pleasure appendage’ was equally amusing as it was absurd. It was … certainly a creative way to describe that gigantic toy Delta had rode.
 
Sabina eyebrows went up, which was, all things considered, a more moderated reaction than Zoey could have hoped for. It wasn’t something easy to take in.
 
“Explain?” Sabina asked.
 
“Oh, boy,” Zoey laughed. She definitely felt awkward about doing so, but she might as well be a professional. “There was, uh, a giant … dildo. Made of white gel. One of my teammates … pleasured it, and it produced that.”
 
Sabina spared a glance for her, seeming amused for the first time since Zoey had met her, then turned her attention back to the glass vial, which she’d picked up to inspect. “I see. Did you collect the gel, as well?”
 
“I did, actually.” 
 
Another spared glance, this one appreciative. Zoey felt inordinately proud at that. She’d done something right, it looked like, since if that was where Sabina’s mind had gone, there must be high odds the gel would actually be useful—or have the potential for being so.
 
“Do you have, uh, paper or something? To set it on? I collected it … raw. With a knife.”
 
Sabina reached down beneath the counter and laid out a slice of brown paper. Zoey withdrew a hefty chunk of the material and set it down; it dampened the paper where it touched. It was the slightest bit sticky. Or lubricated.
 
Probably, some of it was … Delta. And the toy’s cum. Zoey ought to warn Sabina about that. She cleared her throat. “It’s, uh, not clean. Fresh from the vine.” Her cheeks colored, unable to help herself.
 
“Mmm.” Sabina wasn’t put off, though a pause, and a sideways glance, showed that she’d picked up what Zoey had implied. Zoey was grateful for her enduring nonchalance. “That’s what gloves are for, are they not?” She picked up the material and turned it around. Zoey wondered what she was looking for, whether her appraisal had some practical purpose to it.
 
Zoey supposed she could ask. “What are you looking for?”
 
“Anything unusual,” Sabina answered. “Quality and consistency of the material. Irregularities.” She shrugged, setting the material back onto the paper. “Nothing in specific, if that’s what you mean.”
 
Zoey nodded. “So you think it might … yield an effect?” Was that the way she should phrase it? Sabina didn’t correct her.
 
“Perhaps. Certainly a possibility. Is there anything else?”
 
“Just those four.”
 
Sabina nodded, not disappointed. “Four ingredients I’ve never seen before—or heard of. ‘Just’ isn’t the proper word to use. An exceptional yield.”
 
“Ah.” That was good. “Should I put it back?” She gestured at the gel. The material was kept supernaturally fresh inside her inventory, but it might dry up, left out.
 
“May I?” Sabina asked, instead.
 
Zoey paused. “Sure.” She didn’t have a problem with that. It was effectively her payment for having Sabina teach her. And their agreement from earlier still held; Sabina only wanted the ingredients to experiment with, but whatever she created would go to Zoey. 
 
Which, honestly, Zoey was excited for. The infertility potion had been useful, but not exciting. What would these ingredients do? What kind of lewd shenanigans was she in for? Potent sex dreams, from the sound of the pink fairy dust. Then again, was she not being creative enough? The effect might be even more interesting. And there could be a few different results of what they end up with.
 
Speaking of the infertility potion, though, there’d been another ingredient Zoey had dropped off with Sabina.
 
“Hey, uh,” Zoey said. “The coruscant flameroot. Did you get that figured out, while I was gone?” Sabina hadn’t managed to finish the potion with that ingredient, only the blossom blight, which had produced the infertility potion.
 
“Indeed,” Sabina said. “Here.” She deposited the rest of the items Zoey had presented into her inventory, then turned and headed for the backroom. She beckoned for Zoey to follow her. “Come see.”
 
3.10 Back Room
 
The backroom was, unsurprisingly, Sabina’s laboratory and storeroom.
 
Most eye-catching was the quantity of ingredients. Shelves packed almost the entirety of the wallspace, see-through and labeled, of varying sizes. Most were no taller and wider than her fist, but plenty varied, some up to a full dresser drawer. Inside, powders or pouches or other miscellaneous ingredients were tucked.
 
There were too many to pay attention to, following Sabina into her laboratory, but Zoey’s eyes snagged on a few of the labels, and the objects within.
 
Aetherium Geodes, one label read. Nestled behind the see-through plastic-like material that acted as a window to each ingredient, cracked-open rocks with jutting white-blue crystals sparkled. One drawer down and to the left, ‘Solis Regulus’, a bright gold powder filling the container to the half-way point. Even more intriguingly, a few drawers away from that, objects labeled ‘Moonlight Drops’, which were knuckle-sized glass orbs with crescent-moons glowing in their depths. Zoey was briefly perplexed, because how did the shape show so clearly on each orb? Regardless of their orientation? Some of them ought to be slivers, or not showing because of the angle, but instead, the crescent-moon stood out on each, the same size and shape. Like an optical illusion.
 
“Mm,” Sabina said. “Here they are.”
 
Zoey shook off her intrigue and tore her eyes away. There were a hundred more reagents she’d be fascinated to look over, and a dozen more things in Sabina’s lab besides that, but she’d come here with a purpose: the potions Sabina had made while she’d been gone. Presumably, Zoey would learn what some—probably not all—of these reagents did during her tutelage. 
 
Sabina was standing in front of a wide vial shelf. The wooden structure was as tall as Sabina, with slots for hundreds—maybe even a thousand or more—glass vials. To the left and right of the vial shelf, there were shelves for larger potions: flasks, beakers, and a variety of oddly-shaped glass containers. Some were full of different colored liquids, and some were empty.
 
Zoey took the four vials Sabina had held her way. 
 
[Potion of Vulnerability]: Apply to increase sensitivity of target area.
 
[Potion of Inflammation]: Consume to inflame sexual desires.
 
“Two mutations,” Sabina said. “Two of each. As you can see. It seems coruscant flameroot is a versatile reagent, and better yet, it takes very little powder to catalyze … I’m quite pleased. Perhaps I can tease out more effects over the following days. Certainly, I can improve the efficacy of each.”
 
“Wow,” Zoey said. She hardly had a baseline to go by, but she was impressed. She didn’t think most alchemists would have gotten so much done, so fast. “Uh, awesome.” Zoey would make good uses of these potions. “Can you make more?”
 
“The process has been documented. So yes. Easily.”
 
“Perfect.” Because Zoey wanted to use these for … less than practical purposes. Obviously, if Zoey had had a limited supply, she would have had to save them for shards. Against Not-Zoey, or Mel, for example, potions that increased sensitivity or lust would have been useful. But since Sabina could apparently make as many as she needed—or at least not a stifling restrictive quantity—then Zoey could use them just to have fun, and not feel overly guilty for being wasteful.
 
Aphrodisiacs. And sensitivity. Zoey wondered how potent each would be … and what kinds of noises she could extract from Rosalie with them. Or Delta. She would, at a guess, be just as enthusiastic to experiment as Zoey. 
 
Or Fe. After the events of earlier, Zoey assumed she’d be up for more. So many possibilities. Really, how did she get so lucky?
 
“But, how does it work?” Zoey asked. “The sensitivity potion? It says apply. How much?”
 
Sabina tilted her head. At a guess, Zoey had asked a question that was common knowledge. Sabina knew Zoey had ‘memory problems’, so she didn’t comment. “As with all potions, the effect will amplify, up to a maximum. In the same way a minor health potion’s dose is a single vial, and a second vial wouldn’t help further—you would need a more potent potion—a salve will absorb to a certain quantity … then provide no additional effect.”
 
“How much would it take? The whole vial?” Zoey had asked in the first place because that seemed absurd. If she was only applying it to, say, her nipples, then a full vial would obviously be too much to put in such a small area. “It scales with surface area?”
 
A quirked eyebrow. “Indeed. I couldn’t give specifics. Salves tend to go quite far. I suspect you won’t run out nearly as fast as the potions of inflammation.”
 
Zoey paused, briefly recognizing that Sabina was entirely aware that Zoey would be ‘making use’ of these potions, and undoubtedly knew what that entailed. She coughed, then brushed past the topic. “And do you have more of the infertility potions?”
 
Sabina nodded. “As the previous, it requires little of the blossom blight to catalyze, and I’ve been refining the process. With what you’ve provided,” Sabina paused, eyes flicking to the left, as if referencing her memory, “I could make perhaps four dozen more.”
 
Four dozen? That was a lot—certainly enough to sort Zoey out in the short term. But not an infinite supply. Would Zoey find more of the ingredient, eventually? She hoped so. The potions were critical, assuming she didn’t want to be knocking girls up left and right.
 
And, while the idea did excite her, in reality, it would be highly inconvenient to deal with. Delta, or Rosalie, wouldn’t be pleased if that happened … to say the least.
 
There were other ways to handle such an event—Callie, that dressing room attendant, had mentioned a ‘plan-B’ potion of sorts—but Zoey would rather have the assurance of her own solution. 
 
“Assuming you only want the infertility,” Sabina amended. “Less, if you want the opposite.”
 
Right. Because the ingredient could be catalyzed either way: both a lack of fertility, and a boost in it. “Uh, just the first,” Zoey said. 
 
“I assumed so. I have more, if you want to store them. Some weaker, some stronger. I made several batches.”
 
As she went about refining it, Sabina meant. It made sense some would be better and worse, depending on how well the experiments went. “Yes, please.” Might as well carry them around. Eventually Zoey would run out of inventory space, but that day wasn’t today.
 
Sabina rummaged around in the storage shelf, withdrawing vial after vial, which Zoey tucked away into that convenient pocket dimension. 
 
“I really don’t have to pay?” Zoey asked. 
 
“You paid through the opportunity to work with rare ingredients,” Sabina said dismissively. 
 
Zoey knew that, but she still felt like she was making off too well. She felt like she should pay Sabina … especially considering Zoey would be receiving lessons from her. The deal felt too one-sided. Even if Sabina didn’t think so, Zoey felt a bit guilty. Was she taking advantage of Sabina’s lack of interest—or lack of business acumen?
 
Then again, Zoey was hoping for a long-term arrangement with Sabina … one where they both made a hefty profit from the lewd ingredients Zoey was collecting. Zoey wouldn’t broach that topic for a bit, but if Sabina agreed, then with luck, they’d both make a pretty penny. That would be how Zoey paid her back.
 
“That’s it, for now,” Sabina said. “I will, of course, continue to brew. But my focus will be with the new reagents. That was enough?”
 
Sabina had handed off more than enough to keep Zoey supplied for the short term. “Yeah.” 
 
“Then, lessons?”
 
“If you’re free.”
 
“I’ll work as we talk. At your skill level, a lecture is what will serve you best. You know too little to perform even basic experiments.”
 
That was fair. Again, Zoey didn’t take offense at the directness. In a way, Sabina was like Delta … though in a completely different way of ‘overly honest’. Sabina was clinical and, rudely though accurately, insensitive. Delta, on the other hand, was simply blunt and opinionated. At least from the appraisals Zoey had made. It was a bit crazy to think about how she’d only known Delta for two days. It felt like much longer.
 
Zoey followed Sabina out of her laboratory. It seemed she wouldn’t be closing shop for the lesson, as Zoey had first assumed. Zoey supposed that since she was going to only be lectured at, that was fair. She had a lot to learn before she could dive into the nitty-gritty. Before she could dive into the ‘practical’ experiments, even.
 
Zoey’d never liked sitting and listening to lectures, but in this instance, she thought she’d handle it fine. She was excited to learn.
 
“The basics, first,” Sabina said. “The general process. Realize I’m skipping over nuance, here. Generalizing.”
 
“An overview,” Zoey said with a nod. She pulled out a notebook and pen—one of the many items she’d bought during her and Rosalie’s first ‘preparation’ shopping trip—and cracked it open to the first page. Zoey had a fine enough memory, she guessed, but she didn’t want to be pestering Sabina all the time, if she forgot something she’d told her; notes would help with that.
 
Plus, it would endear Sabina to her, hopefully. Make her seem like an attentive student. Sabina had already stated directly that she was no teacher, so Zoey would need to put in effort to get as much as she could from her. It would be a two-person effort, to get Zoey caught up.
 
“First,” Sabina said, “of course, is the pre-preparation step. Gathering ingredients. Perhaps an obvious statement, but in our profession, nothing should be taken for granted. Thoroughness is key. Meticulousness, attention to detail. In your education, we will start from the beginning, and end at the end.”
 
As she talked, she adjusted dials on the front of the cauldron, eying the surface of the liquid as it boiled in a steady rhythm. Fat red bubbles popped lazily, here and there, and specks of black floated around. The cauldron wasn’t just a big iron pot; it was visibly an advanced piece of technology, for what passed as ‘technology’ in this world. If Zoey had to guess, eventually they would go over what the cauldron was capable of. Temperature adjustment, to name the obvious. Clearly, it was the cornerstone utility for potion brewing. For bulk batches, at least. There had been smaller apparatuses inside Sabina’s laboratory, some with what appeared to be active brews inside.
 
“But,” Sabina conceded, “the part where our profession defines itself begins on step two. Base preparation.” She nodded at Zoey’s notebook. “You’ll want to detail each. There’s a lot to go over, even summarizing.”
 
3.11 Alchemy 101
 
“Base preparation,” Sabina said. “Let’s start with liquid type. You truly remember nothing?”
 
Zoey paused. Her ‘amnesia’, Sabina meant. The easy answer would be ‘yes’, but Zoey felt a more honest disclosure was in order. “I remember some things. But there’s huge black spots. You can assume I’m a blank slate.”
 
Sabina pursed her lips. “That may be difficult. I’m sure I’ll assume some sort of prerequisite knowledge … but I’ll try not to. Inform me if I take something for granted.”
 
“Sure.”
 
Sabina turned back to her cauldron. She’d withdrawn a giant metal spoon—the utensil looked a bit amusing, to be honest—and was stirring the thick red sludge with it. Zoey wanted to ask what potion she was working on, but she needed to stay focused. She’d always had a problem with being distractible. 
 
“Liquid types, then,” Sabina said. “The standard is, of course, mana-imbued distilled water. Moderately reactive, pure and consistent, but most of all, cheap and simple to obtain in bulk.”
 
Zoey scribbled down notes, listening attentively.
 
“And palatable,” Sabina added, “though that’s far from highest consideration. But blood potions do tend to put some customers off, as well as other bases. It’s not an irrelevant consideration, in our field.”
 
“Blood?”
 
“Highly reactive,” Sabina explained, misinterpreting Zoey’s question. “Typically useful for experimentation … except for financial restraints. Ethically sourced sapient blood is difficult to acquire. Livestock … easier, but far less effective. Might as well use various liquors, at that point.”
 
Zoey was starting to understand. “Every liquid has different properties, and is useful in different situations?”
 
“Mm. Not exactly. Some are strictly superior to others. Plain distilled water is strictly worse than mana-imbued. Some materials aren’t strictly superior … but in nearly no situations would you use the inferior type. For example, honey and fruit juice.”
 
“Fruit juice?” Zoey’s eyebrows went up. That didn’t sound like a particularly … potion-y liquid. “I guess it’d taste good, at least.”
 
“Sweet-tasting potions are particularly popular with low-rank adventurers,” Sabina said, nodding. “They haven’t found the stomach for upper-level potions yet.” Sabina paused, then tacked on as an explanation, “The most effective bases aren’t the ones that sit well, as a general rule.”
 
“Yours didn’t taste too bad.” Er, was ‘not too bad’ an insult? They certainly hadn’t been tasty, though. “What were they, anyway? The infertility potions.”
 
Sabina’s lips curled. “You wouldn’t like the first iterations. Blood and liquors are reactive … and don’t cook well. They’re used for finding an effective recipe, then when discovered, stabilization using more … normal … bases are sought out. The general invention process. I gave you the first palatable batch. Water, with some post-brew taste additives.”
 
“Ah.” That made sense. Zoey was kind of curious what the ‘first batch’ tasted like. By the way Sabina was making it sound … seriously hard to stomach. Though, cooked blood … yeah. Reasonable.
 
“You’re side-tracking us,” Sabina said. “Let me start over. The most common bases. Mana-imbued distilled water for bulk, common potions—health, mana, stamina, so on. The bread and butter of alchemy; perhaps fifty percent of any given alchemist’s sales. Beyond that, other bases are used for experimentation and specialized potions. Blood and liquors for their reactivity, and easy mutation … but worse final quality, detriments to efficacy and duration. High level, unique effects often require blood or liquor, though not always—and depending on the advancement and skill of the brewer. Honey is the standard for potency, but with significant downsides in longevity. Useful for short-term, powerful effects. The opposite end of the spectrum, various milks. Long duration, moderate decrease in potency.”
 
The inappropriate question that flashed into Zoey’s head was entirely her fault … she coughed, and pointedly didn’t voice it.
 
Sabina glanced her way. “What? Ask.”
 
Zoey wished she hadn’t caught the reaction. “Um. Nothing. Just had … a thought.”
 
“Ask.”
 
Zoey really shouldn’t. But she found herself inordinately curious. “It’s inappropriate.”
 
“Ask.” There was a hint of exasperation, now.
 
Okay. Zoey guessed plenty of other things had been inappropriate, considering their arrangement. “What about semen?”
 
Sabina’s stirring stilled. 
 
Zoey coughed. “As a base. What’s it do? Just, you know, out of curiosity.”
 
Sabina turned slowly, and gave Zoey an amused look. It had Zoey flushing, because Sabina wasn’t an easy woman to amuse. 
 
“Well,” Sabina said. “I appreciate the curiosity. So as I said, ask. I’m hardly offended. And fringe cases are the most interesting … I understand the intrigue.” She turned back to her cauldron. “Semen. It’s been done before. I read a paper during my years at the Institute. I’m not sure I could remember the results. The obvious difficulty is, of course, difficulty of procurement. The paper emphasized that. Average ejaculate for most sapient races is quite small. Collecting enough even for a single brew is … impractical.”
 
Zoey paused. She’d been candid enough to ask the question of Sabina, but her follow up thought … that Zoey’s ‘average output’ would make that particular hurdle much easier … she didn’t voice. Sabina was easygoing when it came to inappropriate topics, but Zoey explaining how she produced about a hundred times what was normal was … probably too much information.
 
“But you don’t remember?” 
 
“I don’t. Which means it was nothing inspiring. Likely an inferior result of some other standard base, as is the case for most odd liquids. Spit, and,” Sabina paused, “other bodily functions, to avoid being obscene, don’t make good bases, either. Only milk and blood.”
 
“Huh.”
 
“You side tracked us again. We have a lot to go over.” 
 
Sabina didn’t sound annoyed, just like she was corralling Zoey back. Zoey flushed anyway … she’d told herself she’d be a good student. “Sorry. Keep going.” She hesitated. “Though, I have a practical question. What about mixing? Say, diluting blood with water? Or whatever else.”
 
Sabina was already shaking her head. “Purity. Purity is king. Mixtures rarely benefit any aspect of alchemy. Certain ingredients blend well … but those are exceptions.”
 
“I see.” Zoey went quiet, letting Sabina continue her lecture. She jotted down the revelations into her notebook.
 
“We’re sticking to bases for too long. It’s only the first stage. Truthfully, this is information found in any reference book. I would suggest you pick one up. Even experienced alchemists can’t remember every reagent, every base, and their interactions.”
 
“Which do you use?”
 
Sabina paused. “Hm. At the Institute, the assigned reference was ‘The Alchemical Laboratory: Tools, Techniques, and Experimentation’. Third edition. Authored by …” Sabina thought for a second. “Magistra Eliza Gold, if I recall. It’s been some years. Perhaps you could find a copy floating around. But any reference would do.”
 
So, most experienced alchemists needed to use a reference … but Sabina’s answer had made it clear she didn’t. She must have an offensively good memory, if her easy recollection of a textbook from years ago hadn’t shown that. Definitely not something Zoey was blessed to have. Though, she didn’t think she’d ever be as good as Sabina. Obviously not. This woman had been training for the subject for a long time. She’d attended some ‘institute’ … likely a university equivalent. 
 
“I tend to use my own notes,” Sabina added. “I’ve found … certain inconsistencies in generally well-regarded texts. Reinventing the wheel is a poor idea … but I would rather discover first-hand the axioms we operate by.”
 
“I’ll find something today, then. After I leave.”
 
Sabina nodded. “Detailing every potion base to you would be a waste of time. Learn them on your own. Know that in day-to-day, water, honey, milk, blood, and liquor are the staples. Hm. But liquid type isn’t the only aspect of preparing a base, only the most influential. I won’t go into detail, but certain imbuing methods can prime liquids to be more effective in certain regards … duration, potency, and reactivity, the three recurring cornerstones. Additionally, they ready the base for accepting certain sorts of effects. An even more varied topic … best left for self-research.”
 
Zoey nodded along.
 
“Moving on. Brewing. Where alchemy is otherwise a profession of knowledge, brewing is the … skill-reliant stage. There’s a surprising amount of intricacy that tutelage can’t provide.”
 
“Really?”
 
Sabina hummed. “It wouldn’t seem so, watching an alchemist go about production. But it’s true. Alchemy is not simply memorizing recipes and performing predetermined actions. Come look.”
 
Zoey took a step closer, peering in at the bubbling cauldron Sabina had indicated. “What?”
 
“This portion is overheating,” Sabina said, stirring the liquid. “At two o’clock. The bubbles give it away. I couldn’t begin to tell you how to determine such a thing; it’s simply obvious to me. An intuition which is afforded to us by our rune … or so is the consensus in the artificing community. But regardless—brews are temperamental. They don’t want to stabilize. They struggle for entropy, to revert to a disordered state, in clever and interesting ways. There’s a certain instinct needed to identify problems as they emerge. It’s the least teachable part of alchemy, and what separates the wheat from the chaff. The good from the mediocre.”
 
“And it comes with practice?”
 
Sabina nodded. “Or, excellency is discovered with practice, at least. Whether it exists in everyone, innately, is a matter of philosophy.”
 
Zoey had always wondered that. Whether everyone could be exceptional at something, assuming they worked hard enough. At a very minimum, not everyone could be world-class. There seemed to be some enigmatic quality in certain people that allowed it. But Zoey wasn’t trying to be a world-class alchemist … just pretty good. She did think anyone could reach that point—though admittedly some faster than others.
 
“But as to the point,” Sabina said. “Brewing. As with bases, the three main qualities—potency, duration, reactivity—are affected during the active brewing process. Primarily, by two things: temperature, and duration of the cook itself. Long simmers result in long durations, and weaker potency. High temperature raises reactivity, producing more colorful effects. On the other hand, low temperatures—some brews are chilled, rather than heated—produce stable, consistent results. Which is useful, occasionally. All things are useful, occasionally. Standard brewing is done with heat.”
 
“And a quick brew means higher potency?” Zoey asked, just to be sure. “With less duration?”
 
“Indeed. Hm. Beyond that, there are requirements of the process that only prevent a brew from degrading, rather than being adjustable to your goal, as temperature or cook length. For example, consistency. Maintaining even distribution of ingredients, and of the temperature across the liquid, is a necessity. Failure to do so will result only in inferior product, or failure to catalyze at all.”
 
“Huh,” Zoey said. “And that book you recommended goes more in depth?”
 
Sabina nodded. “I’m giving you an overview, but you’ll want to dive deeper on your own. Where I’ll come in most use for you is hands-on oversight, or questions you might have that self-study couldn’t provide answers to.”
 
“Makes sense.” It seemed Zoey had some work cut out for her, poring over a textbook. That wasn’t Zoey’s style, but again … when it came to magical potion-making, which would eventually result in lewd potions to play with … she thought she’d be able to make herself sit still. 
 
“After brewing is the final step,” Sabina said. “Bottling. Outsiders might assume this step is irrelevant. It is not. The physical properties of what you pour a completed brew into affects the final result.”
 
“Oh,” Zoey said. “You’re right. I wouldn’t have expected that. What kind of properties? Material?”
 
“In much the same way imbued water is the standard, so is glass,” Sabina said. “But I’m sure you’ve noticed some deviation.” 
 
Zoey had. Sabina’s shelves were predominantly filled with thin glass vials, but there were plenty of exceptions.
 
“And shape,” Sabina added. “Not just material. Again, I’ll give a bird’s-eye view. As with everything else, finances come into play. Glass is cheap, and vials are easily manafactured—or collected and repurposed from expended shard loot. As for the properties … glass is inert. It doesn’t affect potions in any particular way. Something like wood, however, is preserving. Even under extreme temperatures, or long storage times, the potion won’t spoil.”
 
“Potions spoil?”
 
Sabina quirked an eyebrow. “I just said they did.”
 
Zoey nodded. “Yeah. Just surprised, I meant.” Sabina’s blunt reply had showed, again, she wasn’t the best at interpreting Zoey’s non-direct responses. She really was a bit odd. It was kind of cute. Maybe it’d be abrasive if Sabina had sounded annoyed, but she said everything so matter-of-fact, not irritated. “And metal?” That had been the third potion-holder she’d seen in Sabina’s shop.
 
“Iron,” Sabina corrected. “Iron is an interesting one. It’s good for a … sort of fermentation. Letting a potion sit inside an iron container can result in curious final products.” Her lips quirked. “And, more mundanely, it’s a material not prone to shattering. Which has certain use-cases during a hectic mission, so I’ve been told.”
 
Zoey usually took potions preemptively, so she’d never needed to take one out in the middle of a fight … but yeah, she saw Sabina’s point. “And all the funky shapes,” Zoey said.
 
“Shaping is an odd thing,” Sabina said. “And unreliable. But yes. Each has noticeable effects. Vials, as I said, are common because of their inertness; many alchemists prefer not to deal with temperamental bottling. Even I keep it to a minimum. The results are usual more detrimental than helpful. I prefer to refine a process than experiment with bottling.”
 
“That makes sense.”
 
“Round containers—truly round, not oblong like a vial—tend toward improved duration. Blocky, toward potency. And finally, odd shapes, reactivity … what the final result might be, after settling inside the container.”
 
“Odd shapes?”
 
“Odd shapes. Non conventional. Do I need to specify?”
 
“No, I get it.” Anything that didn’t fall into conventionally ‘round’, ‘blocky’, or a ‘vial’, she guessed. Wacky designs, like Zoey could imagine being in a mad scientist’s laboratory. “This is pretty cool. There’s some things I had no idea about.”
 
“We’ve barely scratched the surface.”
 
“I’ve got a question, though,” Zoey said. “Not related to what we’ve talked about, if that’s fine?”
 
Sabina waved her hand, indicating to go ahead.
 
“You mentioned a while ago there were ‘adventuring alchemists’. That some people’s alchemy rune advanced in different ways.”
 
Sabina bobbed her head. “Since you seem intent on wayfaring, I presume that’s the shape yours will take.”
 
“What’s that entail?”
 
“What does any advancement entail? I couldn’t begin to answer.” Sabina hesitated. “But generally? Skills that aid in field-brewing. Likely, you’ll never create potions as powerful as mine, or … inferior in every way, truthfully, but you’ll be able to do so in difficult environments, with minimal equipment and resources. It’s quite useful, I’ve heard, tailoring a potion—even if it may be weaker than average—to whatever situation you find yourself in.”
 
“Huh.” Zoey could see how it would be. 
 
That her potions wouldn’t be quite as strong did suck a little bit, but of course there were trade offs. The ‘lab worker’ alchemists could produce better product, but Zoey would—eventually—be able to throw something together in the middle of a shard.
 
“Now,” Sabina said. “This batch is done, so let me handle it before we continue. You can watch me pour.”
 
3.12 Oasis
 
Tracking down Maddy took some effort, but not too much. Delta found her in the training hall, the third place she checked, the first two being her room, then the guild’s common area. 
 
Fortunately, Maddy wasn’t out running errands, or, what would have been even more unfortunate, on a wayfaring expedition. Wayfarers were transient by nature, so there had been a good chance Maddy would’ve been gone. Delta didn’t know any other mages that had a chance of fitting into their team’s dynamic, so Delta considered it a blessing the illusionist hadn’t set off.
 
Besides accommodations, and serving as a place to throw together wayfaring parties, the training hall was the most useful—and widely used—facility in the sprawling guild structure. Testing one’s skills out in the wild was … a poor idea, to put it lightly, unless someone was seeking a fast path to a shallow grave. Delta had spent long hours here, honing her abilities. She knew her way around, even through the sections she used less frequently.
 
The mages had their own section of the training hall. ‘The Oasis’, people called it, and for understandable reasons—it was a place to rest, and a more crucial one for mages than anyone else. A physical fighter, like Delta, might be able to train herself into the ground, needing a stamina potion or two if she was pushing herself, but a mage? A mage could deplete their mana in a matter of minutes. So, a solution: the Oasis.
 
Or, rather, the obelisk at the center of the Oasis, the tall black pillar that pulsed out waves of energy, even to Delta’s poorly-tuned magical senses. The waves provided a mana regeneration effect, she knew, not that it affected her, considering her lack of mana. Most classes didn’t have mana. Mage-type or mage-aligned classes weren’t so rare they were a surprise to find, but still not common. One in ten? Maybe less.
 
Delta didn’t want to guess how expensive the artifact was. Sixteen feet tall—reaching up almost to the top of the vaulted, circular Oasis—and every square inch covered with intricate sigils, designed and hand-carved through a collaborative effort of mages and artificers, the object had to be the guild’s single most valuable investment. 
 
Not all guilds had them. Only the biggest, or wealthiest, as found in a pseudo-capital city like Treyhull … not that the Fractures were organized enough to have ‘capitals’. Sure, there were clear territory lines, carving the known pocket-dimensions into Deepshunter or Strider territory, and less frequently Sovereign or other polities, but ‘countries’, or ‘provinces’? Not exactly.
 
But not cheap. That was the point. The tall black pillar cost more than Delta would make her entire life, even assuming a successful career. Enough to fix all Delta’s problems up in Haven, if she could pawn it, however silly a thought like that was. 
 
Like usual, she didn’t let her thoughts linger on that topic … on Dad’s condition. Delta was doing what she could to scrape together funds, and stewing just put her in a bad mood. Rushing would get her killed, and then Dad would have no solution.
 
The Oasis’s obelisk had a centralized effect, not radiating much further than the circular room’s walls. Because of that, the training rooms—public or private—branched off the Oasis, making the mage’s section of the training facility easy to search. 
 
Not that Delta searched it. The receptionist for the Oasis pointed Delta Maddy’s way. The mage section of the guild’s training facility required payment and sign-ins, costing a lot more to run than the fighter’s section by orders of magnitude. Being a mage in general was more inconvenient than being a fighter. More expensive, harder to find equipment, harder to find sparring partners and teachers. Things that were a difficulty for any wayfarer, but much more so for mages.
 
Delta didn’t interrupt Maddy, not right away. Most of the training rooms had glass windows, so before Delta walked in or grabbed her attention, she crossed her arms and observed the girl she’d shortly be offering to join their team … or barring that, at least paying to catch Zoey up to speed.
 
Mages were always fun to watch. Well, besides total amateurs … like Zoey, who had barely figured spellcasting out. Sure, Zoey’s class by itself made her a valuable teammate—most noticeably her rune-advancing skill—but her actual combat abilities, both physical and magical, were lacking. She could throw an ice-spike, but that was it. Not much flair to enjoy.
 
Maddy, though. Maddy was a mage through-and-through. She and Delta weren’t close friends, but they’d shared more than a few conversations, so they knew each other to some degree. Maddy came from a long, sprawling line of mages. Magework was in her blood. 
 
Classes weren’t hereditary—or not strictly. It was possible for a mage to come from a long line of fighters, or the reverse. But lineage undoubtedly influenced a person’s class. Or maybe their upbringing, and not so much their bloodline. Being groomed by a family of mages simply made it more likely to get a similar class yourself.
 
But Maddy’s pedigree showed. She was fascinating to spectate. She might not be as flashy as, say, an elementalist, or another purely combat-oriented mage, but her skills were on plain display. 
 
She wielded a long staff of white wood, bulbous and knotted at the top. A large, circular glyph floated in front of its outstretched length, thick white lines imprinted onto the air, humming with energy. Three rings. Delta was hardly an expert with magic, but she knew the number of rings indicated the potency of a spell. Shorthand was, ‘a third-circle spell’, where ‘circle’ was a close equivalent for spell strength. It lined up fairly close to advancements. A third-advancement mage could usually only cast up to a third-circle spell.
 
From the glyph, a stream of white darts flew in a steady hailstorm, slamming into the far wall, being eaten by the magic-absorbing apparatus inlaid there … another reason the mage hall was so much more expensive to maintain. It took a lot of specialized equipment to keep the structure from crumbling, or magic going stray.
 
The darts weren’t physically damaging, as Zoey’s ice shards were. Rather, something ten times more annoying … they were mentally damaging. They inflicted confusion, growing more intense by each successive impact. Maddy had some control over the types of delusions that would spring up, but only if she wanted to. 
 
Most of the time, Maddy had told her, letting the spell ‘figure itself out’ was the best course of action. Why waste the mental overhead? By Maddy’s furrowed brow, and focused expression, getting a steady stream of the confusion-bolts required enough of her attention. And this was a controlled environment, somewhere Maddy didn’t need to worry over an opponent’s attacks, and defending herself … much less a real fight, where the threat of death or injury loomed.  
 
Delta had sparred with Maddy a few times. She was hands down one of the most aggravating combatants Delta had fought. Fighting Maddy—or any competent illusionist, she assumed—wasn’t a matter of keen reflexes and effective strategy, or even dodging and deflecting their spells.
 
It was … Delta didn’t even know. Not letting her brain get scooped out by Maddy’s mind-warping powerset. Fighting against Maddy was, to be completely honest, a bit unnerving. Her whole class revolved around warping perceptions and destabilizing the minds of her opponent … however sweet and bubbly she was personality-wise, her skills were kind of fucked up. Delta would rather fight anyone else. A person’s mind was supposed to be a sanctum. Inviolable. Having it turned to mush—even temporarily—was unsettling.
 
As for Maddy. She was dressed in long, flowing gray robes, which clung surprisingly tight to her curves—some equipment drop she’d found in a recent delve. Before the gray robes, it’d been white ones. Delta thought the previous had looked better … though she appreciated the gray ones for the snug fit. But aesthetics hardly mattered when it came to equipment. Maddy, as most competent delvers, cared more about function than flair.
 
Maddy’s most distinguishing trait was her bright blue hair, though it was covered by her wide, droopy hat, with only bits of the neon showing. Dyed hair wasn’t uncommon down in the Fractures, but it wasn’t especially normal, either. Enough to stick out in a crowd, if only briefly. Apparently the bright hair was something her entire family did, even the older members in her family. The idea of a withered grandma with bright pink hair amused Delta. She’d like to meet Maddy’s family, someday.
 
Maddy looked younger than she was. She had soft cheeks and bright eyes, and her exuberant attitude didn’t lend itself toward an image of maturity, either. Maddy had been down in the Fractures for more than a year, now—so, nineteen—and was third advancement, approaching fourth. Which was a great pace, though not as incredible as Blondie’s. Probably the same pace Delta could’ve expected. Thing was, ‘pace’ in sheer time since entering the Fractures was a weird metric to go by. If you threw yourself at shards twenty-four-seven, then yeah, you’d advance pretty quick. But that’d get most people killed. 
 
It took training—more and more—as you advanced your runes, learning the intricacies to your class … or finding useful teammates, or whatever else. Throwing yourself into the fray with no breaks had an obvious result, most of the time. That was what these training halls were for. Learning your class’s perplexing abilities in a safe environment, rather than in the middle of a hostile shard that was doing its best to kill you.
 
Plus, besides the most eager wayfarers, people wanted to take a load off between shards, or at least every few shards. Delta was more motivated than most, but even she didn’t set a pace like Rosalie. Her blonde teammate had a certain madness reserved for families who did this for a living … who lived and breathed advancement. Old bloods. Generational wayfarers. Delta would like to … you know, live life, here and there.
 
The last bit of Delta’s appraisal was the least appropriate. After the events of the past two days, how couldn’t Delta’s mind be wandering more perverted than usual? Not that Delta hadn’t checked out Maddy before. Just, she did so with a little more interest, this time.
 
Despite wearing long robes, they were tight-clinging, showing off Maddy’s body. She didn’t have much up top. Or, anything at all, really. She didn’t have a boyish figure besides that, with wide hips and a butt that, while hidden by the robes, Delta had appreciated on several occasions. She had a cute face, too, though pinched in concentration, and blasting out dangerous magic in a flurry, the aura of ‘wide-eyed and innocent’ was lost, somewhat. Still, cute. 
 
Delta hadn’t hooked up with her, but that’d been more out of professional preservation than a lack of interest. Better to not roll around in bed with potential teammates. Could lead to unfortunate complications.
 
Which was ironic, she was entirely aware. But Zoey’s class obviously prevented Delta from holding to that precautionary measure. And, the shards they delved. Sex was part-and-parcel for wayfaring with Zoey. Which Delta still was somewhat concerned by—sex could lead to messy emotions, and messy emotions broke teams apart all the time.
 
Delta’d mostly determined not to fall for Zoey. Unfortunately, she was finding out she liked the tall, dark-haired girl with such a bizarre class and background. And … from what she’d seen, she really knew how to handle that equipment between her legs. Delta’d only been with Zoey while in Zoey’s body, but either way, she could get used to rolling around with her. What would it be like, without the body-swap shenanigans? With Zoey wielding her own equipment?
 
She chased those thoughts away.
 
Eventually, the energy sagged out of Maddy’s shoulders, and her staff drooped. The spell broke. Then, as if Maddy had felt Delta’s attention crawling over her, she turned and faced the window, frowning.
 
Maddy blinked, then a grin split her face. It was impossible for Delta not to return it. Maddy’s bubbly attitude was infectious. 
 
“Delta!” 
 
The response was muffled through the glass, but Delta waved. She walked to the training room’s door and opened it; Maddy met her there.
 
“You’re back!” Maddy said. “How’d it go?”
 
There was a sheen of sweat on Maddy’s forehead. She’d really been going at it, pushing herself to her limit. Spells weren’t exhausting in the same way as physical effort, but it worked up a sweat, for whatever reason. And whether physical or not, intense spellcasting took a lot out of a person. Something a mana-potion only half-fixed.
 
“Got all my arms and legs, still,” Delta said. “So, pretty good, all things considered.”
 
“Find anything useful?”
 
Delta paused. Loot was always on the forefront of a wayfarer’s mind, at least in terms of a ‘good delve’. Maybe someone like Blondie disrespected what a good set of gear could accomplish, or sufficient funds for supplies, but most people weren’t snobbish elitists … and blinded by their ego. 
 
Maybe that was too harsh of a way to put it. But Blondie’s insistence that armor and weapons didn’t matter was a bit bizarre to Delta. Of course they did. Rosalie just had a chip on her shoulder, and needed to come off as better than everyone else. Maybe reasonable, considering her upbringing … not that Delta knew the specifics. But she could guess. And, reasonable or not, it was annoying. Even if not for the stat boosts, and defense and offense potential, a good haul was useful for money. Not something everyone in the world could be totally unconcerned with. 
 
But Maddy’s question. Good haul? Uh, yeah, kind of. Not in the traditional sense. Did a mirror that let her swap bodies count as a ‘good haul’? Delta was ecstatic about it, because getting to pilot Zoey’s body a second time was something she was looking forward to, but she didn’t think it was the most useful combat equipment.
 
Not a ‘good haul’ like Maddy meant.
 
“Eh, a few things,” Delta said, which was honest; some of the items they’d earned had combat uses. “Pretty good, for a half-day delve. Nothing crazy.” Some shards could take full days or—rarely—weeks to work through. The one from yesterday had been short. “I’m surprised you haven’t set off. Was half expecting you to be gone.”
 
“Maybe soon,” Maybe said cheerfully. “Have something in the works.” She leaned against her staff and smiled up at Delta. “I’m not being lazy, it’s just hard to find a good team.”
 
“You’ve got something in the works?”
 
Maddy hesitated, confused by Delta’s reaction. She’d expected Delta to be happy for her, but instead, Delta had replied with a frown. Because it messed with Delta’s plans, if Maddy had a potential team setting up.
 
“Yeah?” Maddy said. “Why? That’s bad?” 
 
“Mm,” Delta said. “Yeah, maybe. I was hoping we could talk business.”
 
“Business! I thought you didn’t want to team up?”
 
Delta preferred smaller teams in general; groups of two or three. She and Maddy hadn’t teamed, despite being casual friends, because their roles overlapped—at least when it came to small parties. The standard trio was tank, damage, healer, or some closely-related variation of such. So the cards had never fallen in a way she and Maddy could adventure together. They’d been sparring—and sometimes drinking—partners.
 
“Well,” Delta said. “It’s complicated. You got a moment?”
 
“Sure. Have to recharge, anyway. To the Oasis!”
 
3.13 Procuring a Tutor
 
“So,” Delta said. “I’ve got a business proposal for you.”
 
Maddy had leaned her staff against the wall and sat at on one of the Oasis’s benches, next to Delta. She basked in the mana regeneration effect, looking less fatigued by the second. Her hat was also off, now, with her bright blue hair on full display. It was short, straight, and well-maintained, unruffled by the hat she’d been wearing. It went down to her shoulders. She had warm gray eyes. Paired with her hair, and build, she’d always been a distinctive-looking girl.
 
“Business proposal?” Maddy asked, amused. “You’re trying to put a team together. No need to phrase it like that.”
 
“Well. Kind of. Like I said, it’s complicated. The team part is only a maybe.” Delta shook her head. “We’ll get there. First, an actual business proposal, not a team invite. That squad I joined—one of them is a mage.”
 
Maddy blinked. “Okay. What role?”
 
“Aegis?” Delta wrinkled her nose. “Actually, as the dynamic stands, she’s more of a booster. But she has the potential to be an aegis. Her support skills are innate, so she has no problem getting those out, but her spellcasting abilities, the ones linked to her arcana rune, are … lacking.”
 
“Okay … ?” Maddy said. She didn’t see where Delta was going with this.
 
“We’re looking for a teacher. Someone we can trust. Who has a bit of discretion. Er, a whole heaping of discretion.”
 
“A whole heaping?”
 
“It’s weird. A bit of an explanation.” Delta chewed her lip, looking around the Oasis. There were plenty of other mages seated on nearby benches, recovering from their mana expenditures. “Hey, can you do that thing with the sound bubble?”
 
“Uh. Sure?” 
 
She traced her finger in the air, imprinting a fist-sized arcane diagram of complex white lines in the air. A second later, it fizzled, and all outside noises disappeared. Nobody could hear what they were saying, now.
 
“Man. That’s seriously so useful.”
 
“It better be! Took me weeks to learn. It’s a tricky one.” Maddy tilted her head, waiting expectantly. 
 
Delta wasn’t embarrassed about explaining Zoey’s class to Maddy, but she did think it deserved a segue of sorts. Though, launching straight into it would be pretty funny … Delta fought away the impulse to do so. Much as Maddy’s reaction would be more amusing that way, Delta needed to be a professional. Which she could do, when the situation called for it.
 
If, admittedly, only through great effort.
 
“What’s the weirdest class you’ve ever heard of?” Delta asked.
 
Maddy blinked, adjusting to the swerve in topic. “Huh. That’s a good question.” Her brow furrowed down as she puzzled over it. “Oh! Mom told me about a guy who called himself a ‘devourer’.”
 
“Eh?”
 
“Got stronger the more he ate! Was like, four hundred pounds, Mom said. Ate monsters, even, from the various shards he worked through. That’s a pretty weird class.”
 
No kidding. He ate monsters? “That’s real?”
 
“I mean … I think so? Mom met him, apparently, back when she still wayfared. But she could’ve just been making it up.” Maddy shrugged. “But you asked for weird classes. Most of those are made up, I’d figure. Heck, most of everything feels made up, sometimes.”
 
“Most of everything?” Delta was letting herself get distracted, but talking to Maddy was always interesting; she was constantly saying stuff that had Delta’s head tilting. Probably what growing up with in a reclusive family of mages did. “What’d’you mean?”
 
“Oh, I dunno. Like, there’s so many rumors floating around. People like to tell stories. Part of the human spirit.” She shrugged. “Makes the truth hard to find.”
 
“Can’t argue that, I guess.” Maybe normally Delta would continue down this conversation, but she tracked herself back to the matter at hand. “I’m sure you can guess why I asked.”
 
“She has a weird class,” Maddy said.
 
“Exactly. Uh, even weirder than what you said.”
 
“Really?”
 
Delta supposed Maddy’s curiosity might be a useful thing, here. Plus, she was a bit odd herself … that might help in a roundabout way. Odd things meshed, right? 
 
“Now,” Delta said, “she just needs a teacher. So you wouldn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to, of course. This is just a disclaimer. But, uh. Her class is sex-related. She recharges mana through … having sex with other people.”
 
Maddy stared at her.
 
Delta laughed. “It makes resting between fights more interesting, I’ll tell you that. If a little less … restful.”
 
“Wait,” Maddy stuttered. “You’re serious?”
 
“Me? I’m always serious.”
 
Maddy raised her eyebrows at that.
 
Delta smirked. “Okay, but this time, I am. And like I said, it’s a disclaimer. Doesn’t affect you.” If Maddy didn’t want it to, at least. But Maddy had never come off as particularly open to sex. She got awkward when Delta talked about girls. An impression that Maddy’s blushing and stuttering, now, was reinforcing. “She needs a teacher, and we’re willing to pay well.”
 
“Uh,” Maddy said. “Teacher … shelve that for a second. You wanted to invite me to the team, too? With her?”
 
Delta paused. “I mean, we’re figuring that out. If you’d fit. Not to be rude. The other teammate … she’s got standards. And it’d need to be a unanimous agreement.”
 
Maddy leaned back, looking affronted. “You don’t think I’m good enough?”
 
“She might not,” Delta clarified. “I’m pretty sure I barely squeaked by. Maybe, I only made the cut because she was in a rush to get going.”
 
“You?” Maddy seemed shocked. Delta had a reputation at Treyhull; for a second-advancement, she was pretty good.
 
“She’s old blood,” Delta said. “Maker, you’ll see what I mean. But yeah. I mean, I think she’d accept you. But it’s a maybe.”
 
“Huh,” Maddy said. Zoey’s odd class seemed to have taken a brief back seat; Maddy, like any wayfarer, was interested in the opportunity to put together a promising party. “And she’s good, as well?”
 
Delta paused, remembering the way her annoying blonde teammate had carved through their latest adventure, first with her bare hands, then later, when armed with a shortspear, with even more breathtaking fluidity. All while protecting Zoey, not letting a single scratch onto her until they’d reached the boss … which had been a particularly difficult fight, for a second-advancement shard. 
 
Delta thought Rosalie was arrogant, but to say it was unfounded would be a lie. It couldn’t be more founded. Which forgave it in some part … but not entirely. She had a lot of mixed feelings when it came to Rosalie. She shook the thoughts off.
 
“She’s good,” Delta said. “More than good. Pound for pound, probably the best third-advancement lancer in Treyhull.” Because she was no longer second advancement—she’d progressed this morning. Delta hadn’t been so lucky. To think Rosalie had been in the Fractures less than half the time Delta had, and already had hit third advancement. Zoey’s rune had helped her along, having delved two shards with her compared to Delta’s one … but even so. Astonishing.
 
Maddy leaned forward, incredulous. “Best? In Treyhull?” 
 
It was a lofty claim for a city as big as Treyhull. But Delta believed it. “You’ll see what I mean.”
 
“Coming from you, I can trust it … but still. Really?”
 
Delta didn’t like talking up Rosalie, so she wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, really.”
 
“Wow.” Maddy’s brow scrunched down. “Sounds like you’ve brought a real opportunity to me.”
 
“Comes with unusual circumstances,” Delta reminded her.
 
Maddy paused, remembering the reveal from earlier. Zoey’s ‘sex class’. She colored, then coughed into a fist. “Right.”
 
“Again, you wouldn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to,” Delta said. “Well, sort of. She has a ‘linking skill’, so you’d need to … do something. But just once. Or, maybe more than once, to refresh it. But we could take care of recharging her.”
 
Maddy’s cheeks continued to color. “Wow. That really is … quite the class.”
 
“Think on it.” There were still other qualifiers to make—the lewd nature of the shards they would venture into—but Delta wanted to let Maddy digest the first half before getting into the sticky details. Plus, her joining the team was up in the air. Delta was talking to her for something else, first and foremost. “But teaching Zoey. That’s separate from everything. She needs training, big time, and you’re one of the best mages I know.”
 
Maddy blushed and looked away. She’d always been easy to fluster with compliments. She fiddled with her hat. “I’m not that good. And teaching someone … that’s not something I know how to do.”
 
“We care more about being able to trust you,” Delta said. “We don’t want the details to her class leaking.”
 
“Why?”
 
“She’s strong. And easy to exploit. It’s the reason the old blood paired up with her. Er … the first part, I mean. Her being strong.” 
 
Though, being easy to exploit … Rosalie knew that, too, and maybe it was one of the reasons she was sticking with Zoey. Just, not to exploit her, but to protect her. It didn’t sit wholly right with Delta how cold and logical Rosalie’s decision-making process was, but Delta could tell she was conflicted … that Zoey’s wellbeing wasn’t wholly a non-factor. Just that Rosalie wished it could be. That she could be heartless.
 
That girl was a mess.
 
“Huh,” Maddy said. “Well, I’ll keep it a secret, then. Of course.”
 
“Thanks.” Delta wholeheartedly believed she would. First, because she hadn’t a clue just how powerful Zoey’s runes were—that they accelerated bonded target’s own advancements—and because that was just who Maddy was. Or, seemed to be. Appearances could be deceiving. Maybe an amusing thought to have, when applied to an illusionist. But they needed a teacher, and Maddy was their best shot. “So you’ll do it?”
 
“Well,” Maddy said. “Let’s talk details. Pay. Life as a mage isn’t cheap, you know.”
 
***
 
A few hours later, after running errands, Delta found Zoey in the guild’s central hall, as they’d agreed to previously. Blondie hadn’t returned; she was still out and about, doing … whatever she was doing. She hadn’t specified. To be fair, she had no obligation to. Her business was her own; their discussions had been over team tasks, only. 
 
Besides Zoey. Zoey’d spelled out her personal plans pretty in depth. But she was a more open book than Rosalie.
 
Even if Delta knew there were some suspicious things going on with her. She believed Zoey had memory problems. But something was off, despite that. The way she spoke. Her ignorance in certain places. Her reactions to certain things.
 
The reflection’s commentary on Zoey’s ‘secrets’, the most glaring red flag. Same for Rosalie … but of course the old blood had secrets. Zoey’s were the ones that were more intriguing.
 
As she said, though. Everyone’s business was their own.
 
“Hey,” Delta said, slipping into a chair opposite Zoey. “What’cha reading?”
 
Zoey blinked and looked up; she’d been lost in the thick tome, poring over it while chewing her lip.
 
She plucked a bookmark out of her inventory and tucked it between the pages, then closed the book and showed Delta the title.
 
‘The Alchemical Laboratory: Tools, Techniques, and Experimentation,’ by Magistra Eliza Gold.
 
“Sheesh,” Delta said. “You’re really going for it.”
 
“That’s the goal,” Zoey said. “Sabina seems confident that field-alchemy is useful in wayfaring. And I think when it comes to our shards … maybe it’ll be even more so.”
 
Delta paused as she thought about that. “Huh,” she said. “Yeah, probably. Potions are convenient.” If only specialized ones weren’t so expensive. Sure, mana, health, and stamina were easy to come by, but anything more complicated than that could start breaking the bank.
 
“You find Maddy?” Zoey asked.
 
“Yep.”
 
“Good news?”
 
“Good news,” Delta said. “She’ll do it. Though, her time’s valuable, and she knows it … so it won’t be cheap.”
 
“Didn’t think it’d be. You said she was good. Plus, dealing with the … odder aspects of my class. I get it.”
 
“Well. It’s not like she’ll be dealing with them. We’re the ones that’ll keep you topped off.”
 
“Yeah, but even knowing it’s happening has to be awkward. Halfway through our lesson, I’ll need to go ‘take a break’. It’s weird.”
 
“It’s pretty weird,” Delta agreed. “And … Maddy’s not …” How did she put it? “Well, she’s going to blush a lot. She’s not me.”
 
“Thank god. I don’t think I could handle a second you.”
 
There it was again. ‘Thank god’. Singular. So weird.
 
Delta rolled her eyes. “Wow. Should I be offended?”
 
“Well,” Zoey said, laughing. “One’s great. Just … two. Sheesh.”
 
Delta gave her an amused look, masking the way her heart skipped. ‘One’s great’. It was barely even flirting. Why did it make her stomach flutter?
 
Ugh. Delta wasn’t falling for her teammate. It would make things way too complicated. Especially with Blondie in the mix, who was nauseatingly head-over-heels … and in her own mess of confusion, seeing how romance was supposed to be the last thing on her plate, considering her stated priorities. 
 
“Anyway, she’ll be ready for you tomorrow morning,” Delta said. “Second bell. You’re paying for the private training room, too.”
 
“I can afford it?”
 
“Sure,” Delta said. “Just, it’s gonna be a big chunk of change. Might have to beg your girlfriend for a loan.”
 
“What if I beg you, instead?”
 
“You plow some good dick, Zoey, but not that good.”
 
“Really?”
 
Delta shrugged.
 
“Also, not that good?” Zoey asked. “I’m offended.”
 
“Maybe seeing’s different from feeling,” Delta smirked. She’d been with Zoey, but hadn’t had Zoey inside her, yet. The opposite, actually—she’d been in Zoey, with Zoey’s own cock. Which had been pretty mind-blowing. “But I’m a hard girl to impress.”
 
It was just taunting, and Zoey knew it. Delta wasn’t so rude as to insult her ability in bed and mean it. Just, teasing was fun. And she liked to keep her partners on their toes. When time came the two of them were together in a more traditional matter—without being in opposite bodies—she wanted Zoey to work for it. To impress Delta.
 
Or, next time Delta was in Zoey’s body, for Zoey to work for it, too. A good fucking came with effort. Honestly, that was a big part of the appeal, for Delta. Seeing her partner trying their best to make her squirm. 
 
Er, her thoughts were straying. 
 
“Also,” Delta said. “I want you to pay up, tonight. Check this out.” Reaching into her inventory, she pulled out the fruit of today’s errand-running. She slapped down a harness made from black leather. 
 
Zoey blinked at it, not recognizing the object. 
 
“For mounting the linking plate,” Delta grinned. “Had it rush-ordered. She made it on the spot. Not for cheap, too … but I couldn’t wait.”
 
Zoey paused, understanding hitting her. “Ah. Tonight? Already?”
 
“I’m taking her out for a ride,” Delta confirmed, smirking. “Hope you and Blondie didn’t have plans.”
 
“Why so quick?” Zoey asked. 
 
She was growing flustered. Delta’s grin widened at that. The idea of Delta using Zoey’s cock to fuck other girls wasn’t just something that appealed to Delta, however much Zoey was pretending to play it cool.
 
“Because it sounds fucking hot,” Delta said. “That’s why.”
 
Zoey rolled her eyes. Still trying to play it cool. “Well. A deal’s a deal, I guess.”
 
“It sure is.”
 
The question was, what exactly did Delta want to do with it?
 
 
 
3.14 ❤ Out On The Town
 
[ A/N: I suppose there’s a questionable morality to Delta posing Zoey’s cock as a ‘disembodied, realistic toy dropped from a shard’ and not disclosing its actual origin. Please enjoy the porn for what it is … or skip these chapters, if you view the scenario as problematic. ]
 
 
 
“Holy crap,” Adrienne said. “You weren’t kidding. It does look real.”
 
Delta, Adrienne, and Suzi admired Zoey’s cock, a second ago set down onto the booth’s table. It was drooped over, soft, with Zoey’s cock head pressed into the cool wood. Zoey had been getting sporadically hard throughout the past few hours, ever since Delta had left her in the guild’s central hall to study her alchemy textbook, but less frequently as time passed and Delta didn’t play with her. 
 
By the way her cock had been jostling around in her purse (something hilarious to Delta, for a reason she couldn’t fully articulate), she knew Delta was out and about … but she couldn’t know when the action would start. And she couldn’t know that it finally had; that in this moment, her cock was being admired by three girls in the dark corner of a bar. So, she stayed soft. 
 
Probably not for long.
 
“Feels real, too,” Delta said. “And reacts. Go ahead. Poke it. Watch what happens.”
 
Delta and her two partners were seated in the corner of the bar, in a booth. A mix of chatter and laughter filled the air, growing slowly more raucous as the night stumbled along. Music played in the background, providing an energetic but not chaotic atmosphere.
 
Adrienne, the girl whose shoulder Delta had her arm draped across, had cozied up to her with surprising speed. Delta didn’t normally have problems finding a hook-up, but by how fast after sitting next to Delta she’d had her body pressed into hers, Adrienne was even more eager than most. 
 
Adrienne was a gorgeous, petite girl—she’d caught Delta’s eye immediately, and fortunately, the same in reverse. She had an hourglass figure with an impressive bust, wider hips, and an ass that barely fit in her jeans. The cut of her shirt dipped low, and on more than a few instances, Delta’d caught sight of a lacy black bra as Adrienne leaned forward to talk, laughing loudly and undoubtedly knowing what she was showing off. She had a heart-shaped face with a small nose and pouty lips, and her hair was a deep mahogany that curled into ringlets and framed her face. She’d dressed up for the night, intending to get lucky.
 
Which was par for the course, considering where Delta had ventured to. The Royal Court had a reputation. There were plenty of gay bars where socialization and meeting new people (in the more chaste sense) was the goal, but The Royal Court had an ingrained image … it was a place someone went to when they were looking for fun, first and foremost. Delta’d never come here and left empty handed. Most girls didn’t, she assumed.
 
And, in Delta’s case especially, wayfarers didn’t have their work cut out for them when it came to picking up girls. While in some places in the Fractures, wayfarers were a decent portion of the population, and thus nothing special, in the ‘big cities’, wayfarers were the minority. Civilians flocked from Haven to places like Treyhull, looking to cater to the wealthier, adventure-seeking segment of society, in a place that was still fairly safe. Not that the Fractures were ever completely safe—even Treyhull had monster incursions, occasionally—but compared to being out in the wild or less guarded pocket dimensions, much more so. 
 
But Delta’s point: wayfarers were popular with the girls, especially in big cities. How couldn’t they be? Delta had stories to tell, money, muscles, and scars. Hardly the things that mattered for a long-term relationship … and certainly weren’t universally popular … but at The Royal Court, they were things that made Delta popular. Adrienne and Suzi weren’t looking for meaningful life partners. They were here the same reason Delta was. To scratch an itch. 
 
Or, not exactly the same, Delta internally smirked. She didn’t think Adrienne and Suzi had ventured off with their friend’s disembodied cock, intending to plow strangers with it.
 
Suzi, on the other hand, didn’t have quite as bombastic a figure, but she had elegance: high cheekbones, and a sharp, angular face. She had intense, intelligent blue eyes, and her black dress had a somehow deeper cut than Adrienne’s, dipping to her stomach. Her tits were smaller, but still perky—in no way worse than Adrienne’s. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and hadn’t taped her dress down, either; Delta had caught a few sneak peaks, undoubtedly intentional on Suzi’s part. Her legs, too, Delta appreciated. Seated, Delta couldn’t see them anymore, but Suzi had long, toned legs that went on forever—which she knew, because her dress had drawn attention to them, same as her tits. Suzi knew how to show herself off.
 
In short, two girls Delta was very much looking forward to exploring.
 
As Delta had prompted her to, Adrienne tentatively reached out and poked Zoey’s cock. It twitched, and Adrienne jumped. Delta supposed it was strange to see, however much Delta had warned her. Because odd shard loot wasn’t the rarest thing in the world, but these two were civilians, and likely hadn’t seen much in the way of ‘odd’. And Delta’s item in particular … not something even Delta saw everyday. 
 
“Wow,” Adrienne said. “Does it … does it get hard?”
 
“Find out,” Delta suggested.
 
“And why is it so big?” Suzi asked amusedly. “Gods. Look at it.”
 
Of the two girls who Delta had found herself seated with, Adrienne was definitely the more eager. The Royal Court might be a place girls went to find hook-ups, but that didn’t mean everyone was looking to throw themselves at the first willing girl. Suzi had joined them, and was flirting and returning their advances, but she was still feeling things out. She seemed more amused than anything, as it stood. She was one or two drinks deep—the same as all of them—and was swirling her whiskey around in a glass as she watched Delta and Adrienne from across the table.
 
Adrienne didn’t have any reservations about the ‘weird shard loot’ Delta had laid on the table, but Suzi, on the other hand, didn’t seem quite as fascinated … at least in the lustful sense. She was definitely interested, intellectually-wise. Who wouldn’t be when it came to a disembodied, living cock? 
 
But unsurprisingly to a hook-up location intended for women who preferred women, cocks weren’t guaranteed to be popular. Delta didn’t have any problems with cocks—just, men in general she wasn’t interested in, sexually. 
 
Some girls, though, Delta knew, didn’t like phallic things in general, much less something as true to life as the one laid on the table … which was literally real, rather than a startlingly accurate toy, as Delta had implied. She wasn’t sure if Suzi fell into that camp. Her body language, at least, wasn’t protesting the development—at Delta having slapped down a living and breathing cock onto the table. She just didn’t have a glint of lust in her eye, like Adrienne did.
 
“It’s still soft, and it’s, what? Eight inches?” Suzi continued amusedly. “Like, what the hell.”
 
Adrienne, taking up Delta’s suggestion, rubbed two of her fingers into Zoey’s shaft, trying to wake it up. “Seriously,” she agreed. “It’ll be bigger than my forearm, won’t it?”
 
Adrienne was a short, petite woman, so honestly? “Yeah, probably,” Delta laughed. “It’s kind of a monster.”
 
“And you just found this?” Suzi asked. “On one of your delves?”
 
“At the end of the shard.”
 
The line of questioning briefly cut off, Adrienne’s efforts yielding results. Zoey’s cock—finally being paid attention—started to swell. Delta pressed down on the linking plate to stabilize it, so it didn’t tip over as Zoey grew. 
 
Adrienne and Suzi—and, honestly, Delta too, despite having seen it several times before—watched in fascination as Zoey’s unreasonable length filled out. Her already impressive size swelled into the fourteen-inch monster Delta had learned to admire … and once wielded herself. 
 
“Shit,” Suzi said, her eyebrows raised. “It really might be. Hold your forearm up to it, Addy.”
 
Adrienne did so.
 
“Fuck me,” Suzi said, lips curled in amusement. She shook her head, then took a drink. “Ridiculous.”
 
Adrienne’s reaction to the sight was a little less amused. Her cheeks burned red. “Wow …” she said. “Wow.”
 
“It’s kind of a shame,” Suzi said. “It’s too big to fit. Makes it useless.”
 
“Nah,” Delta said. “One of the perks to the item—squeezes into places it shouldn’t.”
 
Suzi and Adrienne paused, taking that in. 
 
“Really?” Adrienne asked.
 
“How would you know?” Suzi asked.
 
Delta smirked at the black-haired girl across from her. “You think I haven’t played with it? Come on.” Then, to Adrienne, “Yeah, really. It’s a tight fit, but it goes in. All the way.”
 
“All the way?” Suzi scoffed. “That thing’s more than a foot. How?”
 
“Magic?” Then, she shot Suzi a lopsided grin. “I could prove it to you, if you want.”
 
Suzi rolled her eyes. “That’d be rude. Addy wants to go first. Look at her squirm.”
 
It wasn’t a no, but Delta still had some work to do on Suzi, warming her up.
 
Adrienne didn’t deny what Suzi had said. Her blushing, fascinated attention was obvious as day. “So, like, anywhere?” she asked breathlessly. “Even my mouth?”
 
“It’s not the easiest thing,” Delta said. “But yeah. Really shouldn’t fit, but it does.”
 
Delta scooted Zoey’s cock from the center of the table to in front of Adrienne. 
 
“Be my guest,” Delta said. “Just be careful. Don’t get her too worked up. She’s a bit sloppy when she finishes.”
 
“She?” Suzi asked amusedly.
 
“It’s a girl cock,” Delta said. “What, you can’t tell?”
 
“You know, that’s ridiculous, but I kind of agree.” She appraised Zoey’s cock for a second. “She’s a cutie. Definitely a girl dick.”
 
‘Cutie’. Delta didn’t know if she agreed … Zoey’s cock had to be one of the angrier, veinier cocks that existed, not that Delta had surveyed any real ones to know for sure. But … maybe, kind of, it could be called cute. It was hard to say why, but there was a femininity to its throbbing length, if she looked for it.
 
Adrienne fingers wrapped around the base of Zoey’s cock, which made Delta’s heart jump in sympathy. Like before, when fucking Fe, seeing Zoey’s cock played with had Delta’s heart hammering in excitement. Delta was into a lot of things, but voyeurism—seeing her friends get pleasured—hadn’t been especially high on the list. For some reason, with Zoey, it was. 
 
Adrienne eyed the cock apprehensively. “I just don’t see how.”
 
“Magic,” Suzi repeated. “Does it matter? Test it.”
 
Delta grinned at her. Suzi was visibly anticipating the show Adrienne was about to put on. She was leaned back in the booth, one arm thrown over the low-backed edge, and as seemingly relaxed as ever, but there was a glint in her eyes that gave her away. She saw Delta grinning knowingly at her, paused, then rolled her eyes, adjusting in the seat and forcing her nonchalance back. 
 
Yeah, Delta thought. Suzi wasn’t as ready-to-go as Adrienne, but she would definitely be coming back with Delta, tonight.
 
Or maybe not even ‘coming back’. Delta might not want to wait that long. Fucking in the bathrooms was against bar policy, and might have them thrown out, but Delta’d never been much of a rule follower. And it beat doing it out in the alleyway … that was definitely the worse of the two. She’d rather start problems with The Royal Court’s staff than Treyhull’s guards—and maybe catch a charge for public indecency. 
 
The bar’s policies were pretty lose, anyway. As demonstrated by how Delta had a giant dildo laid out on her table, and nobody was saying anything. Honestly, there was worse happening in some of the other booths. Policy was, just don’t make it too loud or obvious.
 
Like fucking in the bathroom. In the very loud, very obvious way Delta intended. But, ah, well, it was unavoidable. 
 
“Okay, then,” Adrienne murmured, eying Zoey’s cock. “Fits anywhere, even my mouth. Let’s find out.”
 
3.15 ❤ Out On The Town II
 
Adrienne placed a soft kiss on Zoey’s dick, and it twitched in excitement. She made a noise of surprise then glanced sideways at Delta, grinning, as if proud of what she’d made happen.
 
“It’s so real,” she repeated. “It liked that.” She turned back forward, then licked just beneath the cock head’s edge, tracing up the ridge, then to the tip, cleaning the bead of precum that had sprung up. She ran her tongue around inside her mouth, tasting the slick substance, then said, “And tastes real, too.”
 
“You’re taking your time with this, aren’t you?” Suzi asked dryly. “We’re gonna be here all night.”
 
Again, Delta was amused at Suzi’s impatience, however poorly she was pretending to not be interested. The reality—that she wanted to see Adrienne choking on Zoey’s cock—was plain as day. 
 
To be fair, Delta wanted that too; and she was impatient, too. It was time to encourage the auburn-haired girl. The hand Delta had had wrapped around Adrienne’s shoulders pulled away, and ventured up, to the back of Adrienne’s head. She pushed gently, but insistently, forward. Adrienne smirked and rolled her eyes, but let herself be guided forward.
 
Her pouty lips enveloped Zoey’s cock head. A pink tongue stuck out as she tried to make room. Zoey’s nearly fist-sized girth barely fit in her mouth. 
 
Adrienne got Zoey’s tip, and a few inches, into her mouth, then she pulled back and laughed. A string of saliva trailed between her lips and Zoey’s cock, before quickly breaking. Adrienne licked her lips clean then said, “There’s no way. It’s too big.”
 
“That’s quitter talk,” Delta said. “And you haven’t even tried.” She continued to urge Adrienne’s head down.
 
“You’ve done it before?” Adrienne asked.
 
Delta paused, remembering exactly how she’d had Zoey’s cock in her mouth, before. It hadn’t been Zoey. It’d been Delta sucking her own cock, when she’d been in Zoey’s body. 
 
She coughed, cheeks coloring. “Er, yeah. I have. Really, it’s not that hard.”
 
Suzi raised her eyebrows at Delta’s reaction. “Are you blushing?”
 
It was an uncharacteristic reaction from how confident Delta had been throughout the night. Just, sucking her own cock … definitely one of the more degenerate things Delta had done. “Yeah,” Delta said. “Can you blame me? That monster’s enough to get anyone flustered.” She tossed Suzi a roguish grin.
 
Suzi bought Delta’s excuse. To be fair, she wasn’t especially interested in Delta, at the moment. Adrienne had leaned forward for her second attempt at swallowing Zoey’s cock.
 
And, it wasn’t an excuse. Delta was getting heated. In fact, she wanted to start heating Adrienne up, too. She knew how to get started on that.
 
Before Adrienne’s lips pressed back into Zoey’s cock, Delta pulled Adrienne onto her lap. Adrienne squeaked at the ease Delta handled her. There were benefits to being a wayfarer: namely, increased strength. It was a recurring trait her partners loved—how easily Delta could toss them around. 
 
Having a seat in the form of Delta’s lap helped Adrienne out in a more practical sense, too. Sticking fourteen inches up, Zoey’s cock was actually a bit inconvenient to try to suck. Though, that hadn’t been the reason Delta’d pulled Adrienne onto her lap. She’d just wanted the other girl’s ass pressed into her. And for better leverage to play with. Delta was a simple girl.
 
Delta rubbed a hand inside Adrienne’s thigh, and the auburn-haired girl shivered. “If you do a good job,” Delta murmured into her ear. “I’ll make sure to reward you.” Her hand ventured higher, brushing between her legs.
 
“Well,” Adrienne said breathlessly. “Then I guess I better get to it.”
 
Suzi’s vaguely amused expression was still there, but her cheeks had reddened. She couldn’t see beneath the table, at how Delta’s hand was rubbing against Adrienne’s thigh, and teasing between her legs, but she knew. Delta’s intent wasn’t exactly subdued.
 
“Spit on it,” Delta suggested. “Lubricant. It’s easier if you go down all at once, not bit by bit.”
 
“Speaking from experience?” Suzi smirked.
 
“Already said so, didn’t I?” Delta was always amused when other girls thought they could fluster her by teasing.  Delta wasn’t easy to embarrass. “And, yeah, it’s big enough to bend my throat out … so there’s no shame in doing some prep work, first.”
 
Suzi cheek’s colored, the loser of the verbal spar; Delta’s shamelessness tended to have that effect. 
 
Adrienne spat into her palm and worked her spit into Zoey’s cock. Delta did the same; there was a lot of surface area to cover. “All at once,” Adrienne repeated, steeling herself. “Here I go.”
 
Her mouth wrapped around Zoey’s cock, and Delta helped her along—she pushed the back of Adrienne’s head down. She waited for it to slide into her throat before she got forceful. Adrienne made a choking noise as she was manhandled down, as fourteen inches of Zoey’s girl dick stuffed her throat. 
 
Her lips pressed into the base of the linking plate.
 
“Holy shit,” Suzi said. She leaned forward to get a better view of Adrienne. “You weren’t kidding. Look at her throat.”
 
Like usual, the outline of Zoey’s cock was clearly visible. How couldn’t it be? It was a nearly fist-sized object stuffed down a tight hole. And Adrienne was pretty petite, so it was even more obvious.
 
Adrienne made another choking noise, but Delta’s hand stayed firmly on the back of her head. She wasn’t trying to pull back; Delta wouldn’t be that forceful. Just encouraging her … not that Adrienne even needed it. The girl had something to prove.
 
Delta rubbed her free hand between Adrienne’s legs as reward. “Good girl,” she said. “Told you it wasn’t that bad.”
 
Another choking noise, and Adrienne rubbed her ass on Delta’s lap, also squirming against her hand.
 
“What’s it feel like?” Suzi asked, the subdued pink on her cheeks having deepened to a visible red.
 
Adrienne pulled up and off Zoey’s cock. She launched into a coughing fit. The noise pulled looks from other patrons. Delta grinned at them, which got a mixture of reactions—rolled eyes, or vague annoyance. Delta had sat them in the corner of the bar, secluded, but it was still a public space.
 
For that matter, The Royal Court’s policy might be lax, but Delta was pushing the boundaries on what was acceptable.
 
“How about we take this somewhere private?” Delta asked. Adrienne was obviously a yes, but Suzi hadn’t been as quick to warm up … though that was changing. To sweeten the pot—and show what Delta’s real plans for the night were—she pulled out and slapped down the leather harness she had commissioned. “I had this made. I was thinking you two could help me test it out.”
 
Delta didn’t need to explain. The two girls looked at it, quickly piecing together the harness’s use.
 
“You are, are you?” Suzi asked, quirking her eyebrow. “Taking, or giving?”
 
Delta paused. Giving, obviously, but honestly? She wouldn’t mind taking. Having Zoey’s cock stuffing her would be almost as amazing as getting to use it on others. But, that wasn’t how her first time with Zoey was going to go. Delta wasn’t some sappy romantic, but if Zoey’s cock was going to be inside her, then it’d happen when Zoey could pin her down and slap her hips into Delta—not someone else doing so, through proxy.
 
“Giving,” Delta said. “It’ll be a good time.” A grin. “Wayfaring’s given me pretty good stamina … and I can prove it.”
 
“Where to?” Adrienne breathed. Delta was still rubbing tight circles between her legs, over her pants. Her hips were squirming back and forth, and she’d started to pant. Delta’s other hand quested up her shirt and starting playing with her tits. 
 
Suzi watched Delta play with the girl on her lap, blush continuing to deepen—though the composure on her expression, and in her voice, remained steady. “Mm,” she said. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind putting the claim to the test. I’ve got nothing else going on.”
 
Delta grinned. “We could head back to my place … but I don’t really wanna wait. Bathroom?”
 
Suzi slid out of the booth, scooping up her purse. “If you’re gonna fuck a girl in a public bathroom, you better do a good job.” Her hips swayed as she sauntered away, headed for the clearly marked facilities.
 
Delta scooted to the side, tugging Adrienne along with her. She scooped up Zoey’s cock, her purse, and the harness, and the two of them set off after Suzi.
 
Delta politely ignored the sounds coming from the third stall down—and the fact there were two pairs of feet beneath the gap, facing each other.
 
They took the one at the far end, furthest from the entrance. It was larger than most, but still a bit cramped. Fucking in the bathrooms … definitely not the most romantic, or clean, place to do it, but the three of them were too impatient for anything else. And, hardly the first time, for Delta. 
 
Their purses went in various places—two on hooks, one on the shelf above the toilet. Delta pulled a towel out of her inventory and laid it on the floor. She set the harness, and Zoey’s cock, on it as she frantically started peeling off her clothing. 
 
“Put your shit on the towel,” Delta said. She was frantic to get going, but some sort of cleanliness was in order.
 
Suzi and Adrienne didn’t hear her. Suzi had pinned Adrienne against a wall. They recognized Delta needed time to get the harness set-up together, so had occupied themselves.
 
Delta shrugged and got to work. She stole glances at them as she undressed, then went about the process of setting up the harness. Suzi was kissing Adrienne frantically, loudly, as the two struggled Adrienne out of her jeans. They’d kicked off their shoes. They weren’t being very efficient with things; their attentions were on each other’s mouths, and Delta had gotten Zoey’s cock attached to the harness, and the harness situated around her pelvis, before Suzi had even managed to get Adrienne fully naked—only her lower half.
 
Delta looked down at the weighty cock between her legs, mounted by black leather straps. It glistened in the light, wet from Adrienne’s mouth. Then, she looked up at the two girls pressed into the corner of the stall, tongue-fucking each other.
 
Yeah. Delta was going to enjoy this.
 
3.16 ❤ Out On The Town III
 
Delta wrapped her arms around Suzi’s waist, pressing their bodies close—which had Zoey’s cock pressing against Suzi’s butt and lower back through her dress, and against Delta’s own stomach. Delta cupped Suzi’s tits and squeezed, extracting a breath of surprise. Suzi had been so engaged with Adrienne that she hadn’t seen Delta coming.
 
Suzi pulled back and turned, panting. Delta stepped away and displayed the fruit of her commission. 
 
Adrienne and Suzi drank in the sight of Delta, who’d stripped herself naked—Adrienne was only half so, from the waist down, because the two other girls had been distracted with each other, failing their efforts to undress. 
 
Rather than admiring that sight of a flushed, half-naked Adrienne, though, Delta basked in the lustful gazes of her partners.
 
She’d always loved how confident it made her feel, having other girls’ eyes crawling across her tits, stomach, legs. Especially her chest; that was where she got the most attention. She had a lot up top. Was it arrogant to bask in their admiration? Probably. But Delta wasn’t bashful.
 
Plus, the cockiness did a lot for her partners, she knew. Delta smirked at them as they scoured her body with their eyes. She had her shoulders pulled back, her chest out, and she gripped her cock—Zoey’s cock, but it was hers now—and wiggled it up and down. Their eyes fell lower, to the impressive slab of meat, attention drawn by the movement.
 
“Fuck me,” Suzi said. “Why does it look even bigger?”
 
Adrienne dropped down on her knees and shuffled up. Delta slapped her cock down on top of her face, happy to meet Adrienne’s enthusiasm. Adrienne reached up to grab it. Delta was torn between being disappointed Adrienne’s shirt and bra wasn’t off, and liking it—because the half-dressed look did have a certain eroticism to it that nakedness didn’t. But she also wanted to see Adrienne’s tits. 
 
Either way, Adrienne had gotten to things, and Delta couldn’t help herself. She pulled her hips back and forth, rubbing her cock against Adrienne’s face. Adrienne stroked up and down, too. Fuck, the eagerness was seriously doing something for Delta. It wasn’t her cock, not literally, but she could swear the motion was sending tingles up Delta’s spine, that she could feel the press of her cock against Adrienne’s face.
 
“Such a big fucking cock,” Adrienne said, staring up with pouting eyes at Delta. “You’re going to fuck me silly, right? Throw me around? Slap me and call me your whore?”
 
Well, Adrienne certainly didn’t have a problem making it clear what she wanted. Also, great news. Delta loved being rough. Problem was, not everyone liked it in return … and she sometimes assumed they did. Delta always felt like an ass when that happened—as she should.
 
Delta squeezed Adrienne’s chin, roughly, bunching up her cheeks. She shook her head side to side, bouncing her auburn hair. “That depends if my little cock slave makes me happy. Will she?” Delta continued to rub her cock up and down Adrienne’s face.
 
She nodded rapidly. She pulled back and opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out. “Please. Your cock slave wants her throat fucked. Make her choke on it. She doesn’t need air, she needs cock.”
 
With a preface like that, Delta could hardly say no. She lined herself up, and Adrienne eagerly pushed her head forward onto Delta’s cock.
 
And … fuck … what the hell? She could swear she felt Adrienne’s mouth close around Zoey’s cock—the wet, hot, sucking pressure as she caressed Zoey’s tip with her tongue. Delta groaned and threw her head back, burying fingers into Adrienne’s hair and urging her forward. 
 
Delta’s cock slid into Adrienne’s throat, and suddenly, Delta was certain she wasn’t imagining things. The pressure of the tight hole wrapped around Delta’s cock was way, way too real—and crystallizing in sensation by the moment.
 
What the hell? Hadn’t they had this item inspected? Shouldn’t they know if there were … other, unstated side effects? It’d been a rush order, so maybe that was why? Maybe she’d missed something obscure in the rush, Fe only checking for dangerous effects?
 
Whatever was happening, Delta didn’t particularly give a fuck. Her cock was being swallowed by an eager girl, and Delta felt every wet sensation, every squeeze and contraction of her throat as she choked on Delta’s impressive size. Delta shoved Adrienne the rest of the way, groaning, then started bucking her hips.
 
“Here’s your fucking cock. Choke on it. You like having your fuck-hole stuffed? You like swallowing my fat girl dick?”
 
Adrienne replied in the form of squelching, gagging noises. Spit dripped from her chin as Delta violently used her. Her eyes were darkened with lust. Delta picked up speed, becoming even rougher.
 
Suzi squatted behind Adrienne and wrapped her arms around her waist. One hand dipped between Adrienne’s legs and started rubbing. Suzi only had eyes for Delta, though, despite how she was playing with the other girl. Now, Delta had two bright pairs of eyes staring up at her as she worked her cock in and out of Adrienne’s throat.
 
The sensation wasn’t quite as intense as when she’d been in Zoey’s body. Whatever the linking plate was doing, it was giving an echo—not the full image. But Delta had been excited just to use Zoey’s cock … any sensation at all was a huge bonus.
 
Also, was it the same as what Zoey was feeling? Could she tell how close Zoey was getting? Or would their orgasms be separate? Probably together, if she had to guess?
 
Adrienne’s eyes started to flutter, and Delta realized, in a flash of lust and concern, that she wouldn’t ask Delta to stop. That she would, quite literally, choke on Delta’s cock before patting Delta’s thighs to tell her she needed air.
 
Reluctantly, Delta pulled out of Adrienne’s mouth. Adrienne gasped in oxygen.
 
“You’re a good actor,” Suzi said to Delta. “Those are some … impressive noises you’re making.”
 
Delta’s grunts of pleasure, having her cock pleasured by Adrienne’s throat. Did Delta explain the development? She chose not to. 
 
“Your turn,” Delta said instead, guiding her cock to Suzi’s mouth.
 
Adrienne didn’t complain; she peeled away from Suzi’s embrace and scooted forward. She buried her face underneath Delta’s cock, gripping Delta’s ass for leverage. Her tongue stroked at Delta’s other part, and Delta shivered at the unexpected sensation. 
 
Suzi’s mouth opened up, and she leaned forward, taking Delta in her mouth.
 
And so, Delta had two tongues playing with her—in two different sensitive areas. How was that fair?
 
And how did she get so lucky?
 
Delta rocked her hips back and forth, sliding her pussy against Adrienne’s tongue, and her cock against the soft insides of Suzi’s cheeks. Suzi hadn’t jumped straight to taking Delta in her throat; she was still the more apprehensive of the two girls. And while Delta wanted to be rough with her, like she had Adrienne, Suzi had made no such request. 
 
So Delta curled her fingers into Suzi’s hair and played with the tresses, slowly urging her—more gently, but still urging—to go deeper.
 
Suzi pulled back, took a breath, and Delta read her intention: when her mouth rejoined, Delta helped get her down. She watched Suzi’s throat bend outward, and savored in the choking noise she made. Delta reached down and pulled open Suzi’s dress, taking a peak down the window. She wasn’t wearing a bra, which Delta had already known. Two hard nipples stood at attention … and tits were always amazing, but somehow, the angle, looking down Suzi’s dress, shaped them in an even more perfect way. 
 
Delta gasped, and her back arched. Adrienne’s tongue had slipped inside, finally stopping its teasing strokes. Seriously, how was she supposed to hold off when attacked from two directions at once? Delta couldn’t come too fast. She had a reputation to maintain.
 
Delta pulled out of Suzi’s mouth, and away from Adrienne, too. Adrienne’s satisfied smirk told Delta she knew exactly why Delta had retreated, and that she knew exactly how good her skills with her tongue were. 
 
Delta growled. If Adrienne wanted to play the brat … Delta was happy to put her in her place. 
 
“Up.”
 
Adrienne stood. Delta spun her around and pushed her against the stall. She bumped into it roughly, with a delighted noise of surprise. 
 
Delta smacked her ass, hard. Flesh rippled, and the noise was obscenely loud. Adrienne’s back arched, and she cried out. Delta paused, briefly, but Adrienne didn’t let her hesitate:
 
“Is Master upset her naughty slut is too good with her tongue? Master is scared of cumming too fast?” She waggled her ass, which was already growing red from the impact of Delta’s hand. “I guess Master should put her fucktoy in her place. I mean, look how she’s talking back. Master isn’t good at taking control, is she?”
 
‘Master’. Not entirely Delta’s thing, but honestly, Delta’s thing was whatever was getting her partner off.
 
And, she was a bit offended. ‘Not taking control’? Delta was trying not to overstep her bounds … but maybe that wasn’t possible with this girl.
 
Delta slapped the other cheek. Adrienne cried out. Then again, on the other side, which was already red. Adrienne’s back arched in pain … and equal amounts of pleasure.
 
Adrienne wiggled her ass. “Master still isn’t—“ 
 
Delta spun her around, then slammed her back into the wall. She gripped Adrienne’s throat and pinned her there, then sank her middle two fingers into her pussy—she was dripping wet, and they slid in easily. Whatever taunting words Adrienne had prepared were cut off in a cry of satisfaction.
 
After a few squelching thrusts of her fingers, Delta pulled out, then swatted Adrienne’s tits. Adrienne cried out, again. Delta swatted a second time. Adrienne writhed in her grip, face growing red from Delta’s hand on her throat.
 
“Fuck.” The word came out choked. “Fuck me harder, Master.” Adrienne’s face was beet-red. Delta’s hand complied with her request, and she sank her digits back into Adrienne’s pussy and started thrusting. Adrienne bucked eagerly into them, squirming in her grip. “Fuck your stupid whore. Fuck, she wants to cum. She’s close. Your stupid whore barely needs to be touched to cum.”
 
Suzi slid in from the side, taking Adrienne’s mouth with her own. Delta’s eased her grip on Adrienne’s throat to let her return the kiss. Delta continued thrusting her fingers in and out of Adrienne as the two girls sloppily shared saliva. 
 
Delta had been leaving Suzi out, a bit, but threesomes could be tricky to manage. By the end, Delta would have Suzi wobbly-legged and satisfied. She just had to wait her turn.
 
Under Delta and Suzi’s joined efforts, Adrienne’s climax washed over her. Her hips bucked into Delta’s hand as she cried out and made choked noises, and Delta’s grip on her neck increased as she reached her crescendo. The flimsy bathroom stall rattled as Adrienne thrashed. Adrienne spat obscenities, her words no longer making sense. 
 
She’d really needed release. Delta was kind of jealous at how intensely she was falling apart.
 
“Enough, enough,” Adrienne choked out.
 
Delta released her grip and stilled her pumping. Adrienne sucked in air and slid down the stall wall, her head visibly swimming. Delta would’ve crouched down and comforted her—she was shaking something violent from her explosive finish—but Suzi intercepted her. She grabbed Delta by the hand and guided her onto the toilet.
 
“Sit,” she said. “My turn.”
 
 
 
3.17 ❤ Out On The Town IV
 
Suzi ground her hips against Delta, seated on her lap. Her panties provided an agonizing friction that had Delta groaning and bucking in return. 
 
“You can feel through it, can’t you?” Suzi asked. She was leaned forward, her forehead pressed into Delta’s as she rocked her hips, sliding her panties against Delta’s cock. “There’s no way you’re acting.”
 
“It’s an … unexpected development,” Delta panted out. “I had no idea.”
 
“Hm,” Suzi said, grinning down at her. “Lucky you.”
 
“Can’t … disagree.”
 
“You have a condom, right?”
 
“You want one?” Delta couldn’t fully keep the disappointment out, though of course she’d put on one, if asked.
 
“Enticing as it sounds, pregnancy from a magical shard item … I’ll have to pass. And, it’s just safe practice.”
 
Delta couldn’t argue that. Zoey had taken an infertility potion just in case, but Delta guessed there were other practical reasons to wear a condom. And, Suzi had asked, so Delta would comply. “In my purse.”
 
Suzi dismounted her, which they both seemed equally upset by. She frantically dug through Delta’s purse, finding the thin piece of plastic, then remounted Delta.
 
“Where’d you even find these?” Suzi asked, ripping open the plastic. Delta’s cock stuck up between their bodies, twitching with impatience. 
 
“Didn’t think they made them that big, either,” Delta said. “But, guess they do.”
 
Suzi slid the condom down Delta’s cock, then lifted herself up and pushed her panties to the side. Suzi hadn’t undressed, besides her shoes; she wore her dress, still, and her panties. It was just as hot as being naked. Delta lined her cock up to Suzi’s entrance, past the lacy fabric of her panties, and Suzi sank her lower body down, not wasting time, needing this as much as Delta.
 
Suzi sucked in air as she took Delta’s girth. Delta also sucked in air. While not as intense as when she’d had a real cock, even an echo of having her length squeezed by another girl’s tight walls was enough to have Delta’s mind whiting out. Her hands dropped to Suzi’s waist, and her hips pressed upward without conscious input.
 
Suzi whined as Delta sank into her, but she didn’t ask Delta to slow. Her ass hit Delta’s legs, and Delta stared in amazement at how her stomach was pushed out, a bare hint of her cock’s outline showing—like always, when it came to Zoey’s cock. 
 
Fuck, Delta really wanted it to be bigger, somehow. She confirmed in her mind that the event with the oversized toy had unlocked something in her: she hadn’t been a size queen, ever, but she definitely was now. She wanted to bulge a girl’s tummy outward as she fucked them—to see every thrust with a defined outline, like had happened with her.
 
Not that fourteen inches wasn’t fun, or enough. Delta started moving, gripping Suzi’s waist as she slapped herself into the other girl. 
 
“It’s not fair you got to go first,” Adrienne pouted, having apparently recovered.
 
Delta wasn’t able to pay her other partner much attention; she was lost in the sensation of fucking Suzi, and the noises she was making. Finally, Suzi’s prim composure had broken … but of course fourteen inches of girl cock had done that. Suzi rocked her hips back and forth, aiding Delta where she could. 
 
“Fuck,” Suzi panted with each slap. “So much. You’re so fucking big.”
 
Adrienne, arriving behind Suzi, hiked her dress up, providing Delta an even better sight: her smooth, unblemished skin, a soft stomach. Adrienne kept bunching the dress up, so it was above Suzi’s breasts—she wasn’t wearing a bra, so there was nothing to pull down, there.
 
Adrienne cupped and played with Suzi’s tits, tweaking her nipples as Delta and Suzi slapped their lower halves against each other. Adrienne’s chin was on Suzi’s shoulder. “You lucky girl. I shouldn’t have been so impatient, and settled for fingers … maybe I would’ve gotten it first. You better appreciate it. It feels so amazing, right? Being fucked by such a fat girlcock? How did you get so lucky?”
 
Suzi could only groan in response. She couldn’t even curse, anymore—her movements were desperate, twitching, awkward as Delta pumped her full. She was starting to come apart. Something was building for Delta, too, but not quite there. Either the muted sensations, or Zoey’s stamina.
 
Zoey. The reminder jolted her.
 
Zoey was feeling all of this—each pump of Delta’s hips into her dark-haired partner. It was her cock, even more than Delta’s, being milked by tight, wet walls. Delta’s movements picked up, the idea thrilling through her. And, Suzi had started to shake. It was time to finish her off.
 
With Delta’s strength, Suzi barely had to lift herself up and down—Delta did it for her. She moved Suzi’s body like it weighed nothing, jerking her body up and down onto Delta’s cock with her own efforts, handling her with a steady grip by the waist.
 
“Please, yes,” Suzi cried out. The words bounced off the bathroom walls; Delta wondered how many people heard them. She hadn’t been paying attention to if anyone had entered … she was a bit distracted. “Fuck me, please. Fuck.”
 
Suzi writhed on Delta’s lap as she pumped her cock in and out of her pussy, bringing the girl to ecstasy. Adrienne had taken the liberty to rub at Suzi’s clit. Her other hand played with Suzi’s nipple. Suzi was overwhelmed, being attacked from so many directions.
 
Finally, Suzi collapsed forward, her climax wracking through her. Delta kept pumping until Suzi groaned for her to slow … which she reluctantly did. Delta’s cock twitched inside Suzi, upset. The first hints of orgasm had started to creep in, setting Delta’s skin on fire. She basked in the reprieve … though, tucked into Suzi’s pussy, it wasn’t a full reprieve. But a short break, the friction finally stopping.
 
“C’mon,” Adrienne said, tugging Suzi by the waist. “Don’t be greedy. You can rest—lay down on the towel. I want her to fuck me while I’m on top of you.”
 
Suzi didn’t hear Adrienne, still recovering, but she let herself be guided by Delta and Adrienne. They laid Suzi out on the towel. Her dress was still hiked up … she looked a mess, red-faced and barely able to focus. Delta smirked at that; she’d done a good job. 
 
Adrienne climbed atop her. She pushed Suzi’s legs open, then laid across her, and also spread her legs open. Delta set up between them, taking a brief moment to admire the sight—the two pussies laid against each other, and Adrienne, laid across Suzi with their tits pressed together, kissing the other girl. 
 
This position wasn’t the most convenient on a bathroom floor; there was no plushness or sink to the bed to give Delta the angle she needed. So, she picked Suzi up by her butt, bringing Adrienne up along with her, their lower bodies now at the level Delta needed. Again, there was a reason wayfarers were popular … Delta could hold this position as long as she needed, despite supporting a decent portion of the two girl’s weights. 
 
Before sinking into Adrienne, though, Delta took a moment to rub between them—to enjoy having her cock slide between two stomachs, against two wet pussies. Suzi and Adrienne ground against her.
 
“Please,” Adrienne gasped. “Stop teasing. I want you inside.”
 
“It doesn’t matter what my stupid fucktoy wants, does it?”
 
Adrienne ground harder against Delta, groaning. “No, but Master’s cock wants relief. I know it does. So use her willing cocksleeve. Please.”
 
Delta couldn’t argue that reasoning. She lined her cock up, then slapped her hips forward. She jostled the two girls, the impact of her hips rippling Adrienne’s ass.
 
Delta worked back into a rhythm. Adrienne’s ass was red from her spankings earlier. Delta adjusted her grip on their lower halves, then used the free hand to add a few more smacks. Adrienne cried out. Delta had learned her lesson; she didn’t go easy on Adrienne. Even as she pumped the auburn-haired girl full of fourteen inches of girl cock, Delta spanked her and degraded her, not holding back. 
 
“Stupid fucking whore,” Delta grunted as she pumped Zoey’s cock in and out of Adrienne. “You needed a fucking that bad? Well, here it is. Take it.”
 
“Fuck,” Adrienne whined. “I can feel you in my stomach. Deeper, please. Please. Fill me up. Cum inside your stupid fucktoy. She’s yours to empty in. Y-Your cum dumpster.” Adrienne’s hips jerked desperately back and forth, meeting Delta’s rhythms. She was sliding up and down Suzi with each impact, whose eyes had refocused; she was watching from beneath Adrienne, panting at the display. Her hand was between her legs, rubbing—ready for her own round two. 
 
Adrienne came only a few moments before Delta’s own climax washed over her. Zoey’s cock—Delta’s cock—clenched, and Delta slapped forward one more time, hunching over the two girls. She groaned, a long, drawn out thing, as her cock finally gave in to Adrienne’s tight, milking walls. 
 
The sensation itself had been muted, but her orgasm wasn’t. Delta cried out—joining the chorus of Adrienne’s moans—as she pumped a sticky load of girl cum into her partner. Her hips arched forward, and she held that way for a few seconds, savoring her pelvis buried into Adrienne’s ass. Then she started rutting, working out every sticky, ejecting string she could, the lack of friction no longer satisfying. As Delta had grown to expect, it went on and on—her cock spasmed for way longer than it should, emptying itself in a comical quantity into her partner.
 
Or, into the condom, which Delta had almost forgot she’d put on. Would it hold? Zoey came a lot; it had to be stuffing the plastic near to bursting. Delta was too lost in pleasure to care. She fucked Adrienne’s tight hole until her cock had spent itself completely.
 
Delta groaned, then pulled out of Adrienne and fell back, dizzy. Vaguely, she looked down at herself—at Zoey’s cock sticking into the air, with a condom filled with a comical amount of cum. It had held.
 
Adrienne shuffled up to Delta, sitting on her thighs. “Wow,” she laughed. Her second recovery had been quicker than the first. She pinched the condom, closing the top and sealing the cum-balloon, then worked the condom off Delta’s cock. She turned it over and admired Delta’s output. “That thing cums like a monster, too. Doesn’t just look it.”
 
Delta had forced herself to lean up, even if she was dizzy. “Yeah. It does.” To Delta’s continued appreciation.
 
Suzi had also sat up. She cozied up to the two of them. Adrienne, seeing it, grinned, then turned Delta’s condom over and poured some of the white liquid into her mouth. She leaned forward and captured Suzi’s lips, whose eyes widened, but quickly reciprocated. Delta’s cock twitched in excitement—which was weird, seeing how Delta’s own visual stimulation shouldn’t have done anything for Zoey’s cock. Her emotions had linked to it, too … a two-way street?
 
Delta admired her two partners as they sloppily shared Delta’s cum, spilling down their chins and onto their tits—and onto Suzi’s dress, which she didn’t seem to pay attention to.
 
Suzi took the condom, then poured more onto Adrienne’s face, rubbing the liquid roughly around, spreading it so it coated her face in sloppy quantities.
 
“Gods, you’re so fucking gross,” Suzi said. “You like this, don’t you? Being covered in cum? Slut.”
 
Like usual, Adrienne grinned at her partner, savoring in the degrading talk. She opened her mouth for more, and Suzi poured a second load in. They kissed. 
 
Finally, after expending all of the white liquid, Suzi stood and grabbed a second condom from Delta’s purse.
 
“Hope you’ve got a lot more in you,” she said.
 
Zoey’s cock—Delta’s cock—hardened back to full mast.
 
“That answers that,” Suzi said, amused, rolling the next condom down.
 
3.18 Settling Down
 
Zoey had mentally prepared herself for Delta using her ‘night out’ as thoroughly as possible, but she had underestimated Delta’s stamina. Zoey spent the better portion of two and some hours squirming on her bed, humping air in a way that provided no friction—or, no additional friction—but being unable to help herself. It was torture, in the best and worst interpretations of the word. 
 
She was, at least, spared from Rosalie watching the event. Even by the time Delta’s enthusiastic night out ended, Rosalie hadn’t returned to their shared bedroom. She had set out into Treyhull with a laundry list of plans, apparently.
 
A half-hour after Zoey stopped being magically pleasured across half a city, Zoey heard giggling and stumbling coming from outside her door, and Delta’s loud, unmistakable voice. They’d gotten rooms next to each other, for convenience, when they’d re-checked into the Guild’s living quarters. 
 
Zoey cracked the door, peeked out, and sure enough, Delta was fumbling her key into the lock, accompanied by two girls. One had black hair, and the other, auburn.
 
It didn’t take a leap of deduction to know these were who Zoey’s cock had been stuffing not an hour ago. Zoey wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
 
Delta flashed her a grin. “Hey, Zoey. Just stopping by to clean up.” 
 
“Who’s this?” the dark-haired woman asked. She seemed embarrassed to have company; she appraised Zoey hesitantly. Which was fair, considering the state she—or all three of them—were in. Looking the way they were, Zoey wouldn’t have wanted to be seen either.
 
Zoey leaned against the doorframe, studying the three. They’d come to clean up? Was that the truth, or was Zoey in for even more torture? Had Delta lugged her hook-ups back to her room for rounds ten through fifteen?
 
“Zoey, my teammate,” Delta explained to her partners. The lock she was fumbling with finally clicked open. Delta said to Zoey, “We won’t be loud, don’t worry. Seriously, just here to clean up. Apparently Suzi didn’t want her roommates seeing her like this.” A grin. “I can’t imagine why.”
 
‘Like this’. Yeah. As Zoey had already noted, the black haired girl was in a filthy state—completely unfit for public. She was coated in dried cum. Maybe someone who didn’t know to expect it wouldn’t have noticed, since they’d at least half cleaned up, and the stains were indistinct … but they’d missed plenty, and Zoey did know what to suspect.
 
And, it was funny to Zoey that it was the black-haired girl that didn’t want to ‘show up home in her current state’, considering how Auburn-Hair was in much worse condition. Black-Hair, at least, could mostly have passed in the dark and nobody would have noticed the stains on her dress—and face. But Auburn-Hair’s shirt, jeans, face, and hair were so much worse. The cum was visible caked on. Zoey’s cum. And she was grinning at Zoey, wearing the filth like a badge of pride, knowing that Zoey knew what it was. 
 
Christ. Delta really knew how to find them, apparently.  
 
They’d walked through Treyhull looking like that? She guessed it was dark out, but still. Color Zoey impressed … talk about shameless.
 
“Uh huh,” Zoey said. “You won’t be loud.”
 
“We won’t,” Delta said. “For real.”
 
“Teammate?” Auburn-Hair interjected—it seemed aimed at both Delta and Zoey. Delta’s introduction had made Auburn-Hair look at Zoey in a new light … and she’d already been looking appreciatively.
 
Zoey was appreciative, too. Delta had found two gorgeous women to spend the night with. Which made sense. Delta was beautiful, confident, and, while a bit too quick to speak her mind sometimes, that same cockiness went a long way. At least in a casual sort of setting, like girls looking for one night stands.
 
“Yep,” Delta said. “Teammate. C’mon, let’s get you two cleaned up.” She tugged her two girlfriends into the room, then popped out, briefly, to toss Zoey’s cock at her, which Zoey fumbled in surprise. “And thanks for the loan. But we’re done with it.” Delta’s door closed behind her.
 
Zoey blinked. If she’d relinquished Zoey’s cock, then maybe they really were done for the night. They had certainly looked spent. Either way, her end of the bargain had been fulfilled. She’d have some peace.
 
She inspected her softened cock for a few moments, that usual disorientation washing over her—that she had her own disembodied cock in her hands. Not something she could get used to overnight, was it? She shook the feeling away, then vanished the linking plate into her inventory.
 
Which they had discovered she could do. Or rather, Fe had. Her rush-order inspection, paid for at a premium even with Fe’s generous discounts, had resulted in exactly what Zoey wanted to hear: that the linking plate could survive inventory-depositing without going haywire. 
 
And thank goodness for that, because it was an immensely needed convenience feature. Her decision to be ‘on display’ was still a high motivation, but there would be times she would want it to not be so obvious, while also being able to wear normal clothing—something that didn’t need to hide her enormous bulge, like a billowing skirt, or loose robes, or whatever. 
 
For example, when she eventually met Rosalie’s parents, and her sisters. She would rather not have her fourteen-inch problem so in-their-face when that day rolled around … or god forbid, for whatever reason she stiffened, creating an imprint all the way down to her knee. Zoey would die on the spot if that happened. So she greatly appreciated the item. Zoey’s reservations over her cock were mostly gone, but that didn’t mean every aspect of it, she loved. Its unwieldy size made it a headache to deal with when in polite company.
 
And sure, she could store the linking plate physically elsewhere, solving that problem, but being able to lug it around in her inventory meant she could also have it on hand whenever she needed it. A perfect solution, rather than a half-solution.
 
Zoey walked back into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. The Guild’s walls were remarkably solid. Despite the density of the hotel-like rooms, she’d yet to be bothered by outside noise. Maybe if Delta really got going, Zoey would hear something from through the wall, but maybe not, either. And, Delta had seemed genuine that she was only offering her room as a place to get cleaned up, maybe sleep. After the two-hour marathon with sporadic breaks between sessions, Zoey would’ve been impressed if Delta had kept going. That girl knew how to roll around, but even she had limits.
 
A half hour ticked by, and Rosalie returned. Zoey had worked through a few more pages of Sabina’s assigned reading. The more she learned about alchemy, the more she realized what she was in for: it would be a while before she could call herself competent. But maybe next time she saw Sabina, Zoey could perform a brew, rather than talk theory. She was looking forward to that.
 
The door closed, and a few moments later, Rosalie walked around the corner.
 
The hours she’d spent separated from her adventuring partner had somehow resulted in Zoey forgetting how beautiful she was. Rosalie had been such a staple in Zoey’s life she’d somehow, absurdly, taken it for granted. Her hard features, small nose, chiseled jaw, and piercing ice-blue eyes hit Zoey like a punch to the gut. It literally took her breath away.
 
Rosalie’s eyes flicked to Zoey’s crotch. Zoey wasn’t wearing pants; she’d stripped them off and tossed them aside, and was wearing only the pink fabric panties of holding. So, Zoey was smooth down there—she looked how she would before Ephy’s transformation. Seeing it, Rosalie frowned, before quickly looking away and finishing walking in.
 
Zoey tilted her head. Rosalie, like always when it came to these matters, had been easy to read. She’d been disappointed that Zoey’s bulge was hidden. Zoey felt a few emotion pass through her at that—a sort of insecurity, to name the first. What, Zoey without a cock wasn’t worth admiring? But she knew that wasn’t fair. Or, sort of. It was complicated. 
 
Rosalie liked her cock. If Zoey were honest, she liked Rosalie’s ass, and would be disappointed if that disappeared, too. It wasn’t remotely the most important part of Rosalie, but Zoey still appreciated it. If Rosalie decided to flatten it out with a magical item, Zoey might’ve frowned too. 
 
The whole topic was a mess, though, because the equivalence to her cock wasn’t quite the same, seeing how Zoey had been magically granted the appendage. But, Zoey didn’t want to linger on the incident. 
 
And it wasn’t a wholly negative event, either. The insecurity hadn’t been the only emotion; confidence had swelled up, too—how couldn’t Zoey be proud that Rosalie had outright frowned at not getting to admire her package? A reaction like that was exactly why Zoey had grown to like her new addition so quickly. And Zoey would have to have a horrible opinion of Rosalie to think that if Zoey somehow lost it, then Rosalie would lose interest in her. She just liked seeing it, and without thinking, had let it show on her face.
 
“Hm,” Rosalie said. “You’re reading. Something alchemy related, I’m assuming?” She sat on the corner of the bed and started taking her shoes off.
 
“Yeah,” Zoey replied idly. The flash of insecurity was there then gone, Rosalie’s words breaking the spell. Now, Zoey admired Rosalie, as she had at the start. “I haven’t seen you dressed up so casually. It looks good on you. Though, I guess anything would.”
 
She was wearing jeans and a light-red t-shirt; she’d changed from her adventuring gear at some point—Zoey didn’t know when. Her toned arms and long, milky legs were on display. It was overall modest, but Zoey couldn’t keep her eyes from crawling across Rosalie. Every part of her was perfect, and the brief time away—just a half-day, nothing at all, really, but which had felt so much longer—Zoey had forgotten how much so. 
 
And the way her cheeks colored at Zoey’s easily given compliment … that was the best part of everything. Rosalie huffed and turned away, then, shoes off, walked to the bathroom. Zoey watched the way her hips swayed, the way her ass changed shape as she crossed the room.
 
Fuck, it really was so perfect.
 
Zoey rolled out of bed and followed Rosalie. She leaned against the bathroom’s door frame as Rosalie undid her hair, letting the bundled white-blonde tresses fall down her back. Zoey preferred Rosalie with her hair down—there was something casual about it. And that was what Zoey wanted. Casual. Partners, in a non-professional sense. 
 
Girlfriends.
 
Maybe that title wouldn’t just be a hopeful dream, soon. It was insane how the word heaved the ground beneath Zoey’s feet. Turned her stomach into a pile of actual goo. Fuck, she had it so bad. How? She’d known Rosalie half a week. 
 
“I believe I told you in the first shard,” Rosalie said, focusing on the mirror and not Zoey, “that the compliments are ridiculous. If you need to be taken care of, just tell me. No need to … butter me up.”
 
Zoey grinned. She leaned off the door frame and approached Rosalie, wrapping her arms around her stomach and putting her chin on her shoulder. “For a politician, you’re really transparent.”
 
Another huff. “Transparent how?”
 
“You say ‘take care of me’, like you’re not itching for it too.”
 
“A curious theory. You do tend to have those.”
 
Zoey let her hands dip lower, then sneak under the hem of Rosalie’s shirt and start fiddling with her jean’s waistband. With a deft motion, the button popped open. “So, you’re saying you don’t want to?”
 
Rosalie quickly grew flustered, Zoey’s toying with her pants setting her cheeks pink. Her voice was steady, though. “The alternative is dealing with your lecherous looks and excessive flattery, isn’t it? Might as well sate your appetite. It’s for my own sanity.”
 
“Mmm,” Zoey said, grinning at Rosalie through the mirror. Her eyes shied from Zoey’s. Zoey’s fingers teased her underwear’s waistband, now, not her jean’s, and Rosalie’s breath started came faster. She was excited—anticipating what was about to happen. 
 
“Well,” Zoey said, fingers abruptly stopping their adventuring. “Either way, there won’t be any of that tonight. We’re keeping it strictly chaste.”
 
“What?” Rosalie’s response was as surprised as it was affronted. Affronted—Rosalie actually sounded offended at Zoey’s unexpected statement. She reined the reaction in, but it was too late; Zoey grinned at her, and Rosalie’s pink cheeks flared red at how obvious she’d been. “What do you mean?” she said, forcibly casual, wrestling for her composure back.
 
She’s so cute.
 
“Yeah,” Zoey said. “Nothing’s happening tonight, so don’t even try it, you succubus. Cuddles, and that’s it.”
 
“But—but why?” Again, Rosalie flushed at her own response. “Not that a night of uninterrupted rest sounds unpleasant … but it’s uncharacteristic. So I’m curious.”
 
“Well, you see,” Zoey started.
 
Rosalie waited.
 
“Tomorrow’s date night.”
 
Rosalie blinked.
 
“So I’m saving myself. I’ve got this feeling I’m gonna get lucky at the end … so I wanna be in top shape.”
 
If Zoey had thought Rosalie’s flustered state had been cute before, her clumsiness at the mention of a ‘date’ was twice that. Rosalie couldn’t even seem to find a response. She finally settled on the wholly ineloquent, “Ah. I see. That’s—that’s fair reasoning, I suppose.”
 
“Which means you’re showering by yourself,” Zoey said, kissing the side of Rosalie’s neck. “I wouldn’t be able to help myself.”
 
That said, she left Rosalie with a firm smack to the butt. Zoey laughed and tugged the bathroom door shut behind her, Rosalie’s protests coming several seconds too late—still flustered from the announcement.
 
3.19 Meeting Maddy
 
Waking up next to Rosalie made it hard to keep her conviction, but Zoey somehow managed to. 
 
As last night, Zoey took her shower alone. The thick black ink below her stomach had mostly washed away. It turned out that while the magical item’s markings were aggravatingly difficult to get off her skin, it wasn’t impossible. Though Zoey wondered whether it was her scrubbing efforts or if time—a cooldown—had softened the ink. It hadn’t budged in the slightest the first night, so Zoey suspected the ink weakened each successive day. Either way, the last dredges of the markings washed away, and Zoey was left with clean skin. She suspected Rosalie and Delta would likewise be able to get theirs off.
 
Zoey knocked on Delta’s door, but either she was a deep sleeper, or she’d set off for the day … Zoey suspected the first. So Zoey and Rosalie shared a breakfast down at the Guild’s restaurant sans their third party member.
 
With some instructions from Rosalie, Zoey made her way to the Oasis, the casual title for the mage’s training hall. She sat on a bench and leaned against the wall, cracking open her alchemy textbook. 
 
Surprisingly, the material had been riveting so far. Though written in a dry, academic way, the exact sort of reading that Zoey hadn’t been able to suffer through in her past life—was that too dramatic? She hadn’t died, only been teleported, so it wasn’t a ‘past life’—but considering the sheer relevance of alchemy, and the intriguing dissimilarity to anything back home, Zoey found herself working through the dense text much easier than she’d expected. Next time she met up with Sabina, Zoey thought she’d be ready for a brew. 
 
That’d probably be tomorrow. She had a busy day today. After training with Maddy, Zoey intended to set out into Treyhull and formalize her date plans with Rosalie, as well as run a few errands. She’d already decided she’d be keeping things relaxed and low key—so hard-to-get reservations or whatever wouldn’t be needed, and were impossible for Zoey to arrange anyway—but she still ought to have a clear itinerary. A visit to the park, and a picnic, was the definite event she wanted, but she needed to pick out which park, and a nice place to set up. 
 
Another event or two would be ideal, too. Did they have ice cream in this world? The thought demonstrated a problem—Zoey was at a disadvantage. How was she supposed to plan a date in an alien world? She’d need to talk to someone and get advice, ideas. Delta, maybe, if she was in her room when Zoey got back.
 
Maybe Maddy? 
 
It would give the two of them something to talk about. As a potential fourth party member, Zoey didn’t want to keep their training session today strictly professional. She wanted casual topics too, where she could get to know Maddy. Though Zoey wouldn’t be neglecting her true purpose of this event, learning the basics of magic. But as teammates, she wanted to get a feel for Maddy.
 
Er, not in that way. 
 
Though … that would happen too, if they did group up. But better to keep those thoughts reined in until Maddy decided to join them. If she decided to.
 
Besides planning for the date, Zoey needed to go shopping. Nice clothes, a pair of shoes, make-up. The clothing Rosalie had helped her pick out was strictly utilitarian … not exactly what Zoey wanted to wear on their date. 
 
What would Rosalie want to see her in? A dress and heels? That would be too formal considering her plans. Tank top and jeans? A skirt? Button up and slacks? Maybe she should’ve talked to Rosalie in more explicit detail about this—she might expect the event to be formal. Which would be fine, but maybe too unwieldy for an evening at the park.
 
Zoey would get a few outfits to cover her bases, to be safe.
 
Somebody slid onto the bench next to her. “Lost in thought?” a cheerful voice asked. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to look at the pages, not above them.”
 
Zoey blinked as she turned to her visitor. 
 
Maddy had a round, innocent face, and she was smiling brightly at Zoey, her light gray eyes warm—and genuine—enough that Zoey’s returning smile came by instinct.
 
“Maddy?”
 
“That’s my name!”
 
She was in a full mage’s get-up: long gray robes (that clung surprisingly tight to her curves), a wide, droopy hat, and to her side, a long staff of twisted white wood, knotted at the top. Her blue hair was the most noticeable part of her, besides maybe her general cheerfulness. Her droopy wide-brimmed hat covered most of it, but the straight blue locks went down to her shoulders, so it was plenty on display. 
 
She was cute. Not like Delta, whose curves Zoey sometimes couldn’t draw her eyes away from, or the regal elegance of Rosalie. Wholesome. Though, Zoey knew not to place too much emphasis on first impressions. This was a girl who fought monsters for a living … she might seem cheerful, but ‘young and innocent’ wasn’t true. She was older than Delta and Rosalie, even—nineteen, the same as Zoey. 
 
Zoey closed her book, vanished it, then held a hand out. “Zoey.”
 
“Figured!” She shook Zoey’s hand. She was still smiling. “What were you reading?”
 
“Alchemy stuff?” The inflection implied Zoey wasn’t the best person to talk about it with.
 
“Oh! You’re a craftsman? Trained as one?”
 
A person’s runes weren’t guaranteed, but most people who received craftsman runes came from craftsman families … or at least had prior training. Hereditary in some part. So it was a reasonable assumption. “No, actually,” Zoey said. “No clue why I got it. Don’t know a thing about alchemy … so I’m playing catch up.”
 
Maddy didn’t know about her ‘amnesia’, did she? Zoey didn’t know what Delta had told her. But Zoey could skirt around the topic much better than when she’d first arrived … she would undoubtedly say something soon enough that would have Maddy giving her a curious look, and it might be better to explain anyways, but Zoey could at least not be caught immediately. She could hold a halfway reasonable conversation, without giving away she was a foreigner from a different world.
 
Instead of blinking in surprise, Maddy looked jealous at Zoey’s explanation. “Lucky you. I’d have killed for a crafting rune. My auntie is an enchanter … it looks like a lot of fun.” She sighed. “But it wasn’t in the stars for me.”
 
A brief pause, Zoey struggling to find something to say to that, but she didn’t have to—Maddy stood and clapped her hands together. “Kay! Did you check out a room for us?”
 
“Er, no,” Zoey said, rising. “I don’t know how it works. Sorry.”
 
“No problem. Let’s go handle it.”
 
The room wasn’t excessively expensive—relative to her portion of earnings from the previous delve, at least, since Zoey didn’t have a good idea of how the economy worked, here. 
 
Zoey knew these training sessions wouldn’t be cheap, but that was on account of Maddy’s tutelage, not the room costs. As one of the better lower-advancement mages in Treyhull, her time wasn’t cheap. Which wasn’t a big deal. Money wasn’t too important for Zoey, as things stood. She had what she needed in the short term. And also had a few plans for future money making, through alchemy with Sabina. Though, that was still in the musing stages. Maybe she’d broach the subject their next lesson.
 
Maddy opened the door for Zoey, and she walked in. Unlike the other training rooms, this one had no windows. With a fourteen foot ceiling and an impressively large area to move around in, though, it didn’t feel claustrophobic, despite being a giant box.
 
There were a few items of interest. First, the training dummies: mannequins of wood etched with arcane-looking diagrams. Zoey could only cast one ‘free-form’ spell—the sort not handled automatically by a rune—her ice spike, but she recognized the similarities between the diagrams for the spell, and the ones scribed across the mannequin. The same language. The same … ‘symbols of magic’, whatever the formal term for it was.
 
Zoey had seen similar markings elsewhere. Magic shared a consistent language. Most recently, the tall black obelisk sitting at the center of the Oasis. In more mundane places, too—like the showers back at the outposts, though the ones at the guild worked on regular plumbing. Or, at least, this society’s magical solutions were mixed in with the counterparts Zoey knew better. She doubted the plumbing system Treyhull operated on didn’t use magic at all. Why wouldn’t it?
 
Besides the mannequins, there were several other things that drew Zoey’s eyes. There was a large ‘target board’ on the wall, floor to ceiling, about ten feet wide. Or, that was what it looked like. Most of the items of interest Zoey couldn’t discern the purpose of. Undoubtedly, they were features of the training room intended to aid with practicing with magic. Maddy would probably explain as they went.
 
“Delta mentioned you were in some weird circumstances,” Maddy said. “And that you might not know what’s going on.”
 
Zoey’s curious looks around the hall must have been more obvious than she’d thought. And, it was as good a prompt as any. She should let Maddy know what she was in for. “I have memory problems. It’s not just that I need help learning magic. Almost everything—terminology, routines, best practices, whatever else. My head’s mostly empty.” She waved around at the training room, at the various items. “Don’t have a clue what any of this does.”
 
Maddy tilted her head at Zoey’s announcement. Delta hadn’t brought her into the loop on Zoey’s amnesia, then, only vaguely referenced her ‘odd circumstances’. Not that it was a big deal; Maddy took Zoey’s reveal in stride.
 
“Well, that’s no problem,” Maddy said. “We’ll get you squared away. Honestly, people with bad habits are in worse shape than someone with no habits. You’re fresh clay! Soft and pliable.” She made a squeezing motion with her hands. “I’ll take great care of you.”
 
Zoey paused.
 
Maddy realized what she’d said, and the gesture she’d made. “Uh,” she said, turning pink. “Like, a blank canvas! That’s a better metaphor. Much better. Forget what I said.”
 
“Right,” Zoey said, trying to fight away her amusement for Maddy’s sake … however funny it was, the speed Maddy was turning red. “You’re an illusionist, right?”
 
“Yeah!” Maddy seized the change in topic a little too loudly; she flinched at her volume. “Um, yeah. Same as my mom, so I got lucky there. Learned half my class before I ever got it, it feels like. You have a generalized arcana rune, right?”
 
“Generalized?”
 
“It doesn’t have a specialty tied to it. Just, ‘rune of arcana’? Probably around a third of mages have it.”
 
A frequent rune type, then, like her rune of alchemy. “Yeah. Does that mean you have a ‘rune of illusions’, then?” Zoey paused. “Sorry—was that an inappropriate question? I do that sometimes. Still relearning everything.”
 
Maddy shrugged, but didn’t answer Zoey’s question. People’s runes were personal topics … except for extremely common runes, like ‘arcana’ or ‘alchemy’. 
 
Zoey guessed Delta had taken the liberty to tell Maddy hers was one such. Zoey wasn’t bothered; it was pertinent information, and really, the only thing that Rosalie had insisted needed to be hidden was her ‘quicker-advancement’ skill. The most ‘overpowered’ ability Zoey had by a large margin, and which made her someone people would want to exploit.
 
“I’ll still be able to teach you,” Maddy said. “I can’t make elemental spells, but the process is the same. Plus, I have this.” Maddy raised her hand, and a heavy tome dropped into it from nowhere, pulled from her inventory. “You’ll need to learn how to read spell formulas. That’s gonna be a bit tricky, and take more than a day, but I’ll translate for you—we’ll have you trying out a few different spells before the day’s over. Delta mentioned defensives, right?”
 
“Ice armor?” Zoey echoed, the spell name sticking out from their discussions. “They’re worried I’ll get hurt … Delta and Rosie don’t really need help on the offensive side of things.”
 
“Rosie,” Maddy repeated. “Delta didn’t talk about her much.” She hesitated before saying the next part. “Sounds like they don’t get along super well.”
 
Maddy had picked that up already? “Well,” Zoey said. “They’re not best friends. I think they’re warming up to each other, though.”
 
Maddy nodded, then returned to the topic at hand: “Okay. Might as well get to it. Let’s start with the basics.”
 
3.20 Arcana Lecture
 
“So,” Maddy said. “Like most disciplines, spellwork is a mixture of intuition and study. A proper academic foundation—an understanding of principles and techniques—helps a newbie mage in advancement … though, truth told, a person could stumble their way into competence just by listening to their heart. That’s important to remember. What you’re doing should feel right. Your rune gives you an invaluable set of instincts, and the worst mistake you could make is ignoring them over what some stuffy book says.”
 
Zoey blinked. There were similarities in what Maddy had said to how Sabina had described alchemy, but Maddy was taking a much harder stance: that instincts superseded everything. Sabina had outright said instinct was needed in the ‘brewing stage’, but she’d emphasized study and knowledge was just as important, if not more. Maybe that was because alchemy was a crafting rune? It would make sense a crafting rune took a more scientific approach.
 
“It does feel like I know how to do things I shouldn’t,” Zoey said. “Rosalie helped me learn the basics,” the bare, bare basics, “but even then, she’s not a mage. I had to fumble around … but I made it work.” In a very simple sense, at least. A single spell: ice-spike.
 
“Exactly,” Maddy said. “That’s lesson one—use what your rune gives you. Study is important, but not that important. Practical application, and learning to trust yourself, is by far the most crucial aspect. Though, advance studies—before entering the Fractures—is definitely useful. My mom made me work through a nauseating amount of books. I think some people take that to mean study is the most important part of casting, since most good casters have pored over a bunch of spellcasting compendiums … but it’s more because there’s nothing else to do until you get your rune. Inferior preparation is better than none.”
 
“Ah,” Zoey said. It was an intriguing perspective. It made sense there would be misunderstandings about that sorts of thing … or, all sorts of things. These people didn’t have the internet, obviously, and from her discussions with Rosalie, it seemed like valuable information on how to succeed as a wayfarer was kept secret simply for the purpose of competition. Zoey was in a fortunate position to be talking with a competent mage, someone raised by a family of spellcasters. Just one of a hundred other ways she’d been lucky, arriving to this world.
 
“Let’s get some vocab hashed out,” Maddy said. “There’s a lot of words people use to mean all kinds of things, and I want us to be on the same page. So. Here we go.” 
 
Maddy’s bubbly, somewhat timid nature had faded as she started her lesson. Zoey had always loved seeing someone become absorbed talking about things they were passionate about—and Maddy was definitely passionate about spellcasting.
 
Maddy traced a gloved finger through the air in a wide circle, and where her finger passed, a glowing white line was left behind. The quick movement completed, a single, thick circle hung, supported by nothing.
 
“A circle,” Maddy said. “It’s how all spells begin. You know what it means?”
 
“The number of them represents the strength.”
 
“Right,” Maddy said. “Or, mostly right. It’s not wrong, but you’re paying me so I can be specific. Circle strength isn’t absolute—it varies from caster to caster. Really, a circle describes the maximum strength of a spell … and few people, possibly none, can reach that potential. Not even The Muse, I’d suspect.”
 
“The Muse?”
 
Maddy gave her an odd look, before remembering Zoey’s amnesia. “The guildmaster of the Striders,” she said. “Maybe the strongest mage in the world. Definitely up there, at a minimum.”
 
Zoey absorbed that. She’d heard the name of another near-legendary figure: Enzo d’Celestin, the guildmaster of the Deepshunters, the highguild Rosalie was aligned with. It made sense the other dominant political force had an equally powerful leader.
 
“Why’s she called ‘The Muse’?”
 
Maddy shrugged. “Her class uses music. Her weapon is a flute. And a few other reasons … but you’re distracting us.”
 
Zoey flushed; she’d done the same thing with Sabina. Zoey really did have a problem with being distractible. “Sorry. Keep going. A circle isn’t an absolute measure?”
 
“Or consistent, at least,” Maddy said. “It’s about how much mana it can hold. Properly constructing the formula—“ In a few deft movements, Maddy sketched several looping glyphs into the circle, filling the interior of the suspended glowing light, “—means the spell can hold closer to its maximum. But nobody can be perfect. Close, maybe. But the worse you are,” as if to demonstrate, Maddy’s wrist wobbled, and the next line she engraved into the air had a sloppy jerkiness to it, which made the whole diagram shake, as if a building with a support that had suddenly sagged, “the less mana the spell holds, and the less effectively it uses it.”
 
Maddy placed a palm onto the finished spell circle, and the light surged, briefly, before vanishing in a flash. A single crystalline dart zipped away, slamming into the far wall and vanishing without a sound.
 
“And how does it scale?” Zoey asked. “The circles? From first to second, second to third. What magnitude between each tier?”
 
Maddy blinked. “Well, that’s hard to quantify. And isn’t consistent, I’d figure. Each successive advancement is stronger than the previous.”
 
“Exponential,” Zoey said, nodding.
 
“Er, yeah. Exponential.” She gave Zoey a curious look. “You’re a scholar?”
 
Which had Zoey pausing in surprise. She supposed a ‘regular’ person wouldn’t know terms like ‘exponential’—the education system, and technology, of this world wasn’t in the stone age, but it wasn’t quite to the point of Zoey’s, or even close. ‘Exponential’ would be a mathematical term. Not a particularly complex one, but why would a commoner know what it meant?
 
Zoey had used similar terminology with Sabina, scientific words she took for granted, but Sabina hadn’t commented on it. Then again, Sabina didn’t comment on much, besides what was strictly relevant in the moment. She was an odd one, for sure.
 
Zoey had probably done the same with Rosalie and Delta. She wondered what they thought of it. Maddy had been the first to bring it to her attention. How much was Zoey giving herself away, using words like that? And in what ways, beyond just demonstrating a more thorough education than most people of this world received? Zoey might have to pay closer attention to how she picked her words.
 
“I don’t think so,” Zoey said, “but, uh,” she tapped her head with her knuckles, then shrugged. “Maybe some background?”
 
Maddy seemed briefly embarrassed; that was the consistent reaction when someone forgot about Zoey’s ‘condition’. Zoey obviously didn’t care, but it was less awkward to just brush past. So that was what she did, for Maddy’s sake.
 
“So each circle describes a maximum strength,” Zoey prompted. “Scaling exponentially.”
 
Maddy nodded, refocusing. She sketched out, in a quick swish, a second spell, bringing a humming white circle to life. “With a one-circle spell, there’s only a single strata to fill: the center. This space, here.” 
 
Maddy started filling out the interior of the circle, but slower this time, letting Zoey’s eyes track the way her fingers moved. Before, she’d done it so quick Zoey had barely been able to keep track. Indeed, it wasn’t a one-to-one process: each movement of Maddy’s hand had multiple lines branching from it. The tracing was an aid, not strictly necessary—she was doing it with her mind, not her fingers. Zoey knew that from her own experience casting spells. 
 
“Each of these sub-diagrams are called glyphs,” Maddy explained. “The glyphs are what shape the spell—that determine the effect. Each has a meaning, and they change based on how you combine them. Like words, and sentences. You’d be surprised how close the comparison is. It’s really just a foreign language … if a half-translated one that we’ve cobbled together a basic understanding of. Or, quarter-translated. A tenth.” Maddy shook her head. “It’s a language of the gods, so of course our understanding is shaky.”
 
Maddy finished the spell, activated it, and quickly sketched the next. This one, though, had two circles: inside the first outer ring, she swished a second circle, about halfway from edge to center. “The rings the circles make with each other are called strata,” Maddy said, indicating with a finger the ‘slice’ the second circle had created. “The center is called the prime strata. It defines the spell … which makes sense, because all spells have a prime strata, but not all spells have a second or third, and so on.”
 
“If the … prime strata … defines the spell,” like usual, the fantasy terminology felt a bit clumsy on her lips, “what’s the other ones do?”
 
“Enhance it,” Maddy said. “So, defines it, but in a different way.” Maddy chewed her lip. “It’s hard to explain. But the prime strata is the blueprint. Say, ‘confusion bolt’.” Maddy filled the interior of the two-circle spell, presumably shaping a ‘confusion bolt’. “But now modifiers,” Maddy said. “Say I want it to go faster—“ she added a few more glyphs, packing them into the second strata, “and to split with a mental activation.” The added glyphs were even more complex.
 
The finished spell—which Zoey only got to see briefly—was a diagram of compact glyphs. They blended together, the internal ring masked by how glyphs flowed from the interior to the outer slice. However simple Maddy was making things sound, it was a lot more complex than her words suggested. Not as ‘compartmentalized’ as she’d explained. But of course Maddy was starting with simplifications. She had to build from the ground up. 
 
The spell activated, and another shimmering, crystalline bolt flew from the center of the circle. It split into two at the halfway point, each half disappearing into the far wall.
 
“What’s that do, anyway?” Zoey gestured at where Maddy was aiming her spells: the tall diagram of glyphs that glowed each time a spell impacted it.
 
“Keeps magic from going stray,” Maddy said. “Plus, feeds the energy back to the obelisk. No point in wasting, right? Though, only a portion. Hard to convert active mana back to its usable state. Obviously.”
 
“It looked like some of the glyphs in that spell was in both stratas—both center and second. Why?”
 
“Well,” Maddy said. “Can I be frank with you?”
 
“Please.”
 
“There’s no point in getting into the nitty gritty, unless you want to invent your own spells … which would take a long, long time before you’re capable of doing so. Best to pick up a spellbook aligned to your capabilities, and make tiny modifications. And even that would be a nightmare, starting from scratch.”
 
“Do you?”
 
“Make modifications? Here and there,” Maddy said. “But I’ve been learning this stuff since I could crawl. Mom and Dad are …” she chewed her lip, then laughed. “Well, they’re academics. Enthusiastic ones. I never stood a chance.”
 
Zoey nodded.
 
“Kay,” Maddy said. “We’ll go over glyphs and how they combine eventually, but let’s work on functional stuff first, yeah? Let’s see what you can do. Go ahead and demonstrate.”
 
After seeing Maddy’s quick, totally assured motions? Zoey fought back a flush … she had a suspicion she’d be making an idiot of herself in the coming minutes.
 
3.21 ❤ Topped Off
 
Training with Maddy was a lot more hands-on than with Sabina. Maddy went over academic topics as they cropped up, and was happy to indulge Zoey’s questions—or gently shoot them down when they could be too complex to answer in earnest—but Maddy focused on the applied side of spellcasting, overall. 
 
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Zoey said. “I know you’re the expert here, but why am I still casting ice spikes? Shouldn’t I be working on new spells?”
 
They’d been going at it for about an hour. Zoey’s reservoir of mana was running low. Or, ‘lust’, more accurately, since Zoey’s spells didn’t operate on the more mundane resource available to mages. That would need to be taken care of, shortly. Some indeterminate distance away, Rosalie was carrying around the linking plate … and when she saw Zoey harden, she would ‘recharge’ her. 
 
That alone had been quite the distraction. How couldn’t it be? She’d had to focus intensely on the lesson, because accidentally letting herself harden meant Rosalie would think it was time for a recharge. Which would lead to an awkward few moments, having to scurry away from Maddy while Rosalie worked away. 
 
Sheesh. What a situation.
 
Fortunately, distractions were easy to come by. Spellcasting was hard work. Even after just an hour, Zoey was drained, and not just in the sense of mana, but a less-defined way, like having worked a set of muscles to their limit that she hadn’t known existed. A sheen of sweat coated her skin from the effort.
 
“Oh, we will,” Maddy said. “But it’s important we catch you up to speed on the basics, first. Techniques and stuff. Easier to do when you’re casting the same spell over and over. I can’t believe you weren’t using a flourish!”
 
‘Flourish’ seemed to be the term that Maddy used for the physical crutch—the tracing of her fingers, or sometimes staff, in the air—for summoning spell circles and filling them with glyphs. While not strictly necessary, Zoey had found imitating Maddy made constructing the spell quicker. When Rosalie had taught her, Zoey had simply built the spell inside her head. It wasn’t immensely easier, using a flourish, but noticeably, for sure.
 
And Maddy’s argument made sense. Zoey was improving; her ice spike was coming to life more fluidly, and Maddy had even shown her how to make tiny modifications to the diagram to adjust the spell's bulk or speed—which were inversely proportional to each other, seeing how the mana needed to go to one or the other. 
 
It was odd, the modifications. Maddy demonstrated the changes, and Zoey could intuit what they would do, even before she implemented them. Like Maddy had said, her arcana rune gave her heaps of built-in knowledge. To be fair, that was the only way Zoey would’ve ever been able to cast an ice spike in the first place, seeing how Rosalie was no mage. Zoey was surprised she even knew some spells. Part of her tutelage, undoubtedly—her parents covering their bases, at least in a small way, in case Rosalie received a mage-type class. Or, that was Zoey’s best guess.
 
“But,” Maddy said, amused, “if you want to move on, we can get started on some other spells. It’s gonna be a lot of banging your head against the wall, though … and a lot of wasted mana. By sticking with your ice spike, we could make some actual progress. I thought it’d help encourage you.”
 
“That’s fine,” Zoey said. “You don’t have to worry about me getting frustrated.” She paused. “Or, giving up, at least.” She might get frustrated. She was only human. “An ice spike is one of the easiest spells to learn, right?”
 
Maddy pursed her lips, then sheepishly said, “Yeah, kind of.”
 
“So a defensive spell like ‘ice armor’ would take much longer. More than an hour or two.”
 
“We’ll be hunkering down for a while,” Maddy agreed. “Er, it only took you an hour or two to learn ice spike?”
 
“Yeah? Why?” Was it a good pace? Rosalie hadn’t seem particularly impressed, back in the first shard. Then again, Rosalie would be impossible to impress when it came to competency. 
 
Maddy thought about it. “Well, objectively … I guess not really. But for a novice without any training? Faster than I’d expect.”
 
“Mildly above average. That’s me.”
 
Maddy laughed. “More than mildly. But yeah, sure, we’ll start on reading spell formulas, then work away at a first-circle ice armor. How’s your mana situation?”
 
Right. That. “I should probably top up.”
 
A pause. Zoey knew Delta had briefed Maddy on what exactly that meant … if Maddy’s quickly coloring cheeks didn’t give it away. 
 
“Right,” Maddy said, coughing into her hand. “Reconvene in an hour?”
 
Zoey had gotten so used to Delta and Rosalie’s easy acceptance of her class that Maddy’s awkward reaction—the reasonable, default one when confronted with Zoey’s class details—was twice as embarrassing … a flush picked up on Zoey’s cheeks, too.
 
“Probably just a half-hour,” Zoey said. “That fine?”
 
“S-Sure.”
 
“Okay. Uh. See you then.”
 
Still blushing, Zoey left the training room, closing the door behind her. Did Maddy know exactly how Zoey would be ‘taking care of it’? Had Delta told her about the teleporting panties? If not, what did Maddy assume Zoey was heading off to do? Meet up with Delta or Rosalie in person? That would explain why she’d suggested a full hour break, despite how, with the convenient item Zoey was wearing, it probably wouldn’t even take the full half-hour.
 
Maybe it was the awkwardness of Zoey’s departure, all of Maddy’s blushing, or just regular excitement at what would be happening, but to Zoey’s horror, halfway down the hallway, she started to stir.
 
Not yet, she chided herself. Zoey picked up her pace. Not here. Let me get to a restroom or something.
 
The good news was that Rosalie was off doing her own things. She wouldn’t be watching Zoey’s cock like a hawk. It might take a moment for her to notice—
 
A pair of soft lips pressed into Zoey’s cock head. Zoey stumbled and nearly fell. A woman passing down the hall gave her an odd look.
 
What the hell? Was Rosalie waiting for her to get hard? She hadn’t even fully sprung up, yet, and already she was peppering Zoey’s tip with kisses? 
 
Shit. She had to get somewhere private. Maybe she should have stayed in the training room? But that was where Maddy was. Better than losing her composure in front of strangers, though, wasn’t it?
 
And, she realized, horrified—she didn’t know where the restrooms were.
 
Half a city away, Rosalie opened her mouth, taking Zoey’s tip into her warm, wet mouth. She sucked away, tickling and stroking Zoey with her tongue. 
 
Zoey groaned. That drew another look from a passerby. The mage training halls weren’t the most crowded things, but some people filtered past.
 
Her face was burning. She was out in public, having her cock sucked. By Rosalie. Maybe they should’ve organized a clearer signal than just, ‘when I get hard’. Zoey could pull out of the panties, she supposed … but only if she were in private. Could hardly do that here. 
 
Rosalie’s stroking and bobbing picked up speed. Zoey desperately fought away a moan. Mortified, she approached the receptionist desk, having arrived back to the central hall—where the tall black mana regeneration obelisk sat.
 
“Hey,” Zoey said breathlessly, and frantically, “where’s, uh, the restroom?”
 
The receptionist gave her an odd look—the fourth or fifth she’d gotten as Zoey fled to the desk—which was fair, considering the state Zoey was in. She was red-faced and panting. Half of it was arousal, half of it was pure, crystallized mortification. She was having her cock sucked as she spoke to this woman. Why did that set her skin on fire?
 
Rosalie stopped teasing. She plunged down, taking Zoey’s cock into her throat. Tight muscles squeezed around Zoey’s length almost before she knew what was happening. Rosalie was getting better at that—she’d swallowed Zoey’s fourteen inches in one smooth motion. 
 
Zoey only barely didn’t moan. She did let out a whimper.
 
The receptionist blinked rapidly at her. She pointed. “Down that hall. Second door on the right.”
 
“Thank—“ Zoey gasped as Rosalie bobbed on her cock. “Thank you.” Zoey scampered away.
 
She received two more questioning looks as she shakily fled down the hallway. The bathroom was blessedly empty; she shut herself into a stall and collapsed onto the closed toilet seat. 
 
She’d made it.
 
Not without making an embarrassment of herself, but she’d made it. Maybe the whimpers and breathless groans the others had heard escape her mouth could be explained away by … something. Because obviously they wouldn’t assume the truth.
 
Rosalie continued bobbing her head up and down, swallowing Zoey’s cock. Zoey squirmed in pleasure, trying to be quiet, but unable to help the groans. Rosalie had worked into a rhythm.
 
Zoey wanted more. A more active role. She hastily wiggled down her pants—Rosalie eagerly sucking her cock the whole away through—then her panties. Zoey’s cock—wet, recently pleasured—popped out of the portal; she felt it slide out of Rosalie’s throat as she tugged them off.
 
Zoey removed the panties entirely, then turned them inside out. She pinned the panties—shimmering black portal facing outward—to the stall door, then waddled up to it. She poked her cock through, then started thrusting.
 
This hadn’t been the plan, but Rosalie rejoined her lips to Zoey’s cock eagerly, catching the humping appendage. Zoey’s cock sank into her throat, and she started jerking even more frantically. The stall door rattled with the force of Zoey’s hips smacking into it. The bathroom was empty, so she was fine.
 
Half a city away, Zoey’s slapping hips plunged fourteen inches of girlcock up and down Rosalie’s coaxing throat.
 
Zoey had been building up stamina for the past several days, but the searing embarrassment of having been out in public had her falling apart faster than she should have. And, Rosalie was getting way too good at this, at using her throat to pleasure Zoey. How long had Zoey been thrusting, and Rosalie hadn’t pulled back for air?
 
Zoey groaned and let go, her climax washing over her. 
 
“Fucking … take it …” Zoey moaned, slapping her hips forward one last time. Hot strings ejected from her length, stuffing Rosalie’s stomach full. She felt, though didn’t hear, Rosalie choking on her cock as it emptied into her. Her cock pumped and pumped, and Zoey imagined Rosalie’s eyes fluttering as her prodigious load sloshed around in her stomach. She was taking the whole thing … every drop. That girl was a devil.
 
Shuddering, emptied and satisfied, Zoey fell back, sitting with a thump.
 
 
 
3.22 Date Discussions
 
Fortunately, Maddy didn’t know how much of an embarrassment Zoey had made of herself. Zoey returned to the training room mostly composed, and after a brief bout of awkwardness—both of them knowing Zoey had been pleasured, but not addressing it—they resumed their studies.
 
Maddy spent some time teaching Zoey how to read spell formulas using the notations in her spellbook. It was straightforward, but not easy. She made decent progress. Or, so Maddy said. Zoey didn’t get close to manifesting the spell. It always fizzled. But it ‘fizzled less than at the start’, according to Maddy’s semi-encouraging words.
 
Working on a new spell meant more mana wasted … Zoey needed to be topped off a few more times. Fortunately, they weren’t as much of a disaster as the first. Rosalie attended to her eagerly, whenever her cock sprung up—with suspicious speed, even, as if she were waiting around for it to happen—but Zoey made sure not to get hard until she reached the bathroom.
 
As the practice day wrapped up, Zoey found herself broaching a subject she’d been considering asking Maddy for advice with. 
 
“So,” Zoey said. “This is off topic, but can I ask you something?”
 
“Sure.”
 
“I’m … going on a date. And since,” she waved vaguely at her head, indicating her amnesia, “all of that, I need some advice.”
 
Maddy blinked rapidly, then a grin split her face. “A date!” She shuffled up to Zoey with bright eyes. “With who? What’d’you have planned?” She leaned forward eagerly, hanging on Zoey’s response.
 
It was a more excited reaction than Zoey had expected. It was a good thing Maddy was that kind of girl, Zoey supposed, who loved talking romance. She’d be able to help Zoey out. Plus, the enthusiasm was hard not to match; Maddy’s outward excitement was exactly what Zoey felt whenever she thought about her upcoming date with Rosalie, even if Zoey wasn’t the kind of person to be vibrating like Maddy was.
 
“Rosalie,” Zoey said. “The other teammate. We mentioned her, right?” 
 
Maddy’s eyes widened. There was a brief pause—Zoey couldn’t guess why—but the enthusiasm surged back a second later. “That’s so fun! You two are girlfriends?”
 
“Well,” Zoey said, cheeks coloring at the word, “no, not yet. This’ll be our first.”
 
Maddy gasped.
 
“So you can see why it’s important,” Zoey said, a bit amused at Maddy’s theatrics. Except they seemed genuine reactions, not exaggerated in the slightest. Or, not intentionally exaggerated. “And I have a few plans, but I’m a bit lost. It’s hard to plan a date when I can barely remember how the world works.”
 
“Yeah, I bet.” A steely determination crossed Maddy’s face, which had Zoey blinking with how fast it appeared. “Then, I’m at your disposal. Ask anything.”
 
Zoey had thought it the moment she’d seen Maddy’s bright and innocent face, but the image had been cemented throughout the past few hours: Maddy was just a cheerful, enthusiastic person. She wanted to help, genuinely. It was disarming how free she was with her kindness, and it was enormously endearing. 
 
Zoey had had a side-mission with these training sessions to determine if Maddy would be a good fit on the team, personality wise, and her answer—so far, at least—was a resounding yes. She supposed a few hours wasn’t enough time to get to know someone for real, but how couldn’t Zoey like Maddy?
 
“I’ve got a few things planned out,” Zoey said. “Rosie’s a bit … uptight.” She loved that girl, but—
 
Er. Loved? Where had that word come from, so easily? Zoey liked that girl. Best to avoid … that other word … for now. Moving way too fast.
 
She liked that girl, Zoey rephrased, but she wasn’t blind to her flaws; she was definitely uptight.
 
“So I want to do something relaxing,” Zoey continued, the ‘L word’ only making her stutter for a moment. “A picnic at the park, I’m thinking, for the main event.”
 
“So cute,” Maddy groaned, seeming almost mad when she said it. “Which park?”
 
“That’s one of the things I wanted to ask. Which’s best, for a date?”
 
“I haven’t been in Treyhull for super long, but I guess I know better than you.” Maddy popped up; they’d been seated as they practiced. “C’mon.” She held out a hand. “Time to go scouting.”
 
“Scouting?”
 
“Better to find an answer in person. We’ll look around.”
 
“Oh,” Zoey said. “I didn’t mean—I didn’t want to take up your time like that.”
 
Maddy seemed almost offended. “There’s nothing more important than a first date. I can spare a few hours.” She wiggled her hand, and Zoey took it, rising. The short, petite girl had a surprising amount of strength in her grip; she was third advancement.
 
“And I was planning on doing some clothes shopping,” Zoey admitted. “Having a second opinion would be nice there, too.”
 
“Totally.” Maddy snorted. “Not that you need to dress up, but sure.” A second later, she blushed at what she’d said—as if the words had barreled out of her mouth without verifying with her brain, first. 
 
Maddy had done that a few times: said something without meaning to. It was never overly inappropriate; Zoey didn’t think Maddy could be overly inappropriate. 
 
Which was, if Zoey were honest, maybe the one problem with her joining the team. Maddy was cute, and definitely attractive, but she was so wide-eyed and innocent that Zoey hesitated taking her into the kinds of shards they’d been venturing to. Zoey was protective of her, even, despite knowing her only a few hours … even though it wasn’t Zoey’s place to be protective of her. She was a grown adult, same as all of them. And as old, or older, than Zoey.
 
“Let me get changed,” Maddy said, brushing past her accidentally too-frank compliment. “Meet up in the lobby, ‘kay?”
 
“Sounds good. And thanks again.”
 
“Thanks? Nuh-uh. No thanking me. First dates are class one emergencies. I’m doing my civic duty.”
 
***
 
Maddy had been wearing her adventuring gear when they’d been practicing spellcasting, but when they met up again to head out into Treyhull, she was dressed up in an everyday outfit. The flowing gray robes had been replaced with a frilly white blouse and a long skirt that went down to her shins. Zoey had to stop her lips from quirking; it made sense Maddy liked frills and pleats. 
 
She didn’t wear her long, drooping hat, so her blue hair was on display. It really was an odd combination with her warm gray eyes—she had a striking look about her. 
 
She still wore her gloves, the only piece of the outfit that hadn’t changed from their training sessions. A sparkling amulet hung around her neck, the red gemstone, a ruby perhaps, now laid overtop her blouse, so that Zoey could see it—she had caught glances of the silver chain affixed to it, but it’d been hidden beneath Maddy’s robes. 
 
Zoey herself hadn’t needed to change; she’d been in casual clothes already. Or, the casual sort of clothes she’d grown used to wearing, which meant sturdy adventuring gear. During her first shopping trip with Rosalie, Zoey had picked up a few articles that were more casual, meant for being out and about in a city, but not many. She’d been more focused on practical preparations.
 
“I’ll follow your lead?” Zoey asked. “How long have you been here, anyway?”
 
“In Treyhull, you mean? A few months. Enough to get know my way around. We checking out the parks first? Or clothes?”
 
“Up to you,” Zoey said. “There’s still some things I want to talk about, too. Maybe brainstorm a few ideas besides the park? Another event or two.”
 
“Well,” Maddy said. “What’s she like to do?” 
 
The two of them had set out from the guild, into the streets of Treyhull. They talked as they walked.
 
“That’s kind of the problem. Rosie is … hard to read, sometimes. Doesn’t share as much as I’d want. And she’s dedicated to wayfaring. So much, she might not even have hobbies.”
 
“Delta mentioned something about that, I think.”
 
“Which is fine,” Zoey said. “That’s the life she’s chosen.” Or, that wasn’t quite right—her parents, and station of birth, had chosen it for her. But Rosalie had accepted the role, either way, and that was her choice … just one derived from responsibility and expectations. “I’m not trying to change who she is. She already thinks this date is a waste of time, so—“
 
“Huh?”
 
“Er,” Zoey said. That might paint this event in a poor light, like Zoey had begged to go on it and Rosalie was unenthusiastic. “She wants to go on it,” she clarified. Though, only because it was Zoey. And didn’t that have her stomach doing funny things? “But she also thinks she should be focusing on more practical stuff. That’s just who she is. So, like I was saying, I’m not trying to change that … I just want to show her what else is out there.”
 
If Zoey showed her a relaxed evening, or a few, and Rosalie ended up becoming restless for the ‘wasted time’, then Zoey would stop taking her on them … or at least ease up. Zoey wouldn’t mind dates in the training room, if that was what Rosalie wanted more. She knew this relationship of theirs wouldn’t be like the ones she knew before. The low-key moments would be rarer.
 
And, honestly, Zoey had a world to be saving, whatever that meant. So it would be a good thing if Rosalie’s workaholic tendencies rubbed off on her. 
 
“I see,” Maddy said, contemplative. “She sounds …” Maddy hesitated, as if she couldn’t find the right word. “I’d like to meet her.”
 
“Well, that’ll happen soon enough,” Zoey said. “Unless you don’t want to, obviously. Delta told you how we’re looking to fill out the squad, right?” 
 
“Yeah,” Maddy said. She coughed. “But, erm. I’m still thinking about all the … stuff.”
 
Zoey’s class. “That’s fair.”
 
A brief awkwardness. Maddy was blushing, now—and pointedly walking faster. She definitely wasn’t like Delta. Zoey’s class had Maddy off-foot, and might actually be something that had her not wanting to join. Like … well, most people, probably? Delta was special in that regard. Delta was special in most regards, really … and Zoey meant that mostly as a compliment.
 
“So,” Zoey said, bringing things back to a topic that wouldn’t have Maddy’s cheeks burning red. Or hers, too. Maddy’s embarrassment had heat rising on her own cheeks. “Like I was saying, some ideas for low-key events.”
 
Maddy was comically easy to distract, fortunately. Bringing the topic back to the date had her swerving in demeanor … like a dog spotting a squirrel. “Oh!” she said. “How about, hm, finger painting?”
 
“Finger painting?” That had come out of left field.
 
“Imagine it,” Maddy grinned. “You’re saying she’s all prim and proper, hard to cut loose, and that you want to force her out of her shell … well, no one can be all refined-like while finger painting. It’s perfect!”
 
It was an unexpected suggestion … but honestly, Zoey was amazed at how good it was. Rosalie, finger painting? Something a bit childish, and sure to be messy? It would definitely work to do what Zoey needed. She could imagine it already. 
 
“That’s genius,” Zoey said. “Like, actually. And you came up with it so fast.”
 
Maddy grinned. “Well, it’s what I do.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Don’t tell my sisters I said this, but I’m definitely the reason at least four of them aren’t single. They’re all useless.”
 
“At least four?”
 
“Ophelia and Venus are lost causes,” Maddy said solemnly.
 
“But … how many do you have, then?”
 
“Seven,” Maddy said. “And two brothers. Yes, it’s a headache.”
 
Nine siblings. Seven sisters. Zoey couldn’t even imagine. 
 
“Well,” Zoey said, shaking her head. “I’ll want to do it during the picnic, I think. So I’ll have to get supplies.” Maybe there was a place that hosted finger painting, but Rosalie wouldn’t properly be able to cut loose in public. She’d be too worried for her image. It was one of the reasons Zoey had picked a picnic: for the privacy. Out alone, in a field. “And I was thinking, maybe we’d get desert, after? Somewhere cute?” 
 
“Ooh,” Maddy said with a nod. “Yeah, I know a few places.”
 
3.23 The Date I
 
“Stop fidgeting,” Delta said. “It’s cute, but stop. You look fine. You’re making me nervous.”
 
Zoey stood in Delta’s bathroom, inspecting herself in the mirror, having finished preparing herself for her and Rosalie’s upcoming date. Rosalie was probably ready too. In a few minutes, it’d be time to set off from Delta’s room, walk one door over, and knock. 
 
She’d dressed, as she’d told Rosalie to, casually. She’d gone with a tried-and-true classic: jeans and a black tank top. She hoped it wasn’t too casual. The intent wasn’t to seem like she wasn’t trying—just that she wasn’t pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Zoey wasn’t really a ‘get dressed up for a fancy date’ kind of girl. She would, of course, when the situation called for it … but Zoey was trying to show her true self.
 
Was Rosalie the ‘preferred to get dressed up’ kind of person? For all her poise and obvious pedigree, she also had a sort of razor focus that Zoey suspected meant frivolities annoyed her. That something lowkey—though a bit contradictory to Rosalie—would be her preference, too, over an event where she had to put on airs, like a fancy dinner. 
 
That was, Zoey supposed, the ultimate point to this date: to get to know Rosalie better. And the reverse.
 
She’d gone light on the make-up. Maddy had helped her with that, too—the shopping part. Ephy’s blessing meant it was almost redundant. Zoey was still disoriented by how perfect her features were, now, with the changes to her body. She styled her hair, but it had looked fine messy; she applied make-up, but it only made her look different, not better. Still, she put on a mild pink lip gloss, and light touches of mascara and eyeliner, just to make it clear she was trying, that she hadn’t shrugged on the first clothes she found and strolled over to Rosalie’s door.
 
Would Rosalie wear make-up? Obviously, she hadn’t bothered while delving, or even in their short stay at Treyhull between shards. Her career was cutting through monsters and trekking through wilderness; cosmetics weren’t high on Rosalie’s priority list. But for a date? Zoey thought she might. She wouldn’t care if she didn’t—her stalwart practicalness was one of the things Zoey admired—but she’d also appreciate if she did. She’d appreciate Rosalie in any form, obviously.
 
Overall, though, Zoey hadn’t gone excessive on preparations. Today was a big deal, but the events Zoey had planned weren’t accommodating to dresses and heels. No fine dining and an opera house … or whatever was the norm for this world. Rosalie had seen too much of that, Zoey had to assume. Though, probably not in date form. Maybe?
 
Was this her first date? It wasn’t the first time Zoey had wondered over the question. Certainly, Rosalie couldn’t have had a shortage of admirers, but she didn’t seem the type to have entertained any of them. Arranged dates, then? Of a political sort? Or had she always been razor-focused on wayfaring? From the sounds of it, she wasn’t entirely free from politics, despite her ultimate purpose of advancement.
 
But Zoey had a feeling it was Rosalie’s first date. As in, ever. That was intimidating, to say the least. And a bit freeing? It meant she wouldn’t be comparing Zoey to anyone. But also, first dates were a big deal, and this event was already nerve-wracking enough without knowing it was Rosalie’s first ever.
 
Or, not nerve-wracking. That wasn’t right. Or … yes it was. Zoey didn’t know. She was both paralyzed and giddy, totally at ease and confidently nervous. Things would go well, obviously. But also, she was going to crash and burn and ruin everything.
 
Delta sat on the sink, watching her with amusement. Zoey had appropriated her room so she could get ready separate from Rosalie. Delta had helped reassure her … though maybe not in a direct manner. Mostly, she’d been teasing Zoey. 
 
“The flowers aren’t too much?” Zoey asked. 
 
“It’s grossly sweet,” Delta said. “So yes, it is. She’s going to have a melt down. Are you sure I can’t come watch?”
 
“I think that might kill the vibe, Delta.”
 
“I can be discreet. As long as you don’t see me?”
 
“I’d prefer if we didn’t have a little voyeur peeking at us from the bushes.”
 
“Voyeur?” Delta quirked her eyebrow. “It’s going to be that kind of date?”
 
“No. I’m just—“ Zoey huffed. “No following us around, okay?”
 
“Mm.” Delta made a show of considering the request. “I probably won’t.”
 
Zoey shook her head. She knew Delta wouldn’t. She was, as Zoey knew she couldn’t help herself from, just teasing.
 
And Zoey did plan to keep the date chaste … at least the date itself. There’d be nothing to spy on. Though after, when they found their way back to their room at the night’s end, who knew what would happen? She’d play it by feel. But the events themselves, Zoey wanted to be a real date, not an excuse to have their hands all over each other. She and Rosalie had already started to explore that aspect of their relationship. Much, much faster than the ‘more appropriate’ half. So, she wanted this to be taken slower. For it to be genuine. 
 
Not that a less-than-appropriate date couldn’t be genuine, but Zoey was hoping to get to know Rosalie better. As a person, and for them to open up to each other. For sex not to be the focus. They would have plenty of time for those kinds of activities over the following months, assuming they stuck together as a team. 
 
“Well,” Zoey said, finally tearing her eyes from the mirror. “It’s time, then. Thanks for your help.”
 
“I sat here and mocked you for twenty minutes. But, yeah, sure.” She snorted. “It’s what I do.”
 
“It was calming. So really. Thanks.” Delta had done a great deal for Zoey’s nerves, which Zoey knew had been intentional. Delta’s form of encouragement wasn’t like, say, Maddy’s, not bright-eyed and optimistic, but Delta had been supportive nonetheless.
 
Taking a steadying breath, Zoey grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the entry table. Hand resting on the door handle, she glanced over at Delta one last time.
 
Delta raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Just don’t break the bedframe when you get back. The guild’s prickly about their property.”
 
Zoey huffed and left. 
 
One door over, she knocked and waited. She wiped a sweaty palm on her pants and tried to relax her tense posture, so she wasn’t looking stiff when Rosalie opened. She really shouldn’t be this nervous. Should she? Yeah, she definitely should. It was Rosalie.
 
The door opened, revealing her date for the night.
 
Zoey hadn’t known what to expect from Rosalie’s outfit—maybe jeans and a t-shirt, like she’d seen her in before—but the reality was better than any guess she could’ve made: she wore a long, flowing sundress that dipped a few inches beneath her knees. It was pale blue, a color Rosalie seemed fond of, probably because of how it matched her piercing eyes. Her long platinum blonde hair was up in a ponytail, the first time Zoey had seen her wear it like that. She wore bright red lipstick, a striking color, contrasted with her pale complexion and dress: Zoey couldn’t look away from her lips.
 
“Mm,” Rosalie said. “Roses, for Rosalie. Cute.” She seemed dryly amused.
 
Zoey started, realizing she’d frozen. She thrust the bouquet out. “I couldn’t help myself. Too cheesy?”
 
Rosalie took the offered gift. “It’s very traditional,” she said, shooting Zoey another amused glance. She leaned forward and breathed in the floral scent. 
 
And, hey—why was she the one acting unruffled? Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around?
 
“You probably drowned in flowers, growing up,” Zoey said. “But I thought it was appropriate.”
 
Rosalie snorted. “No,” she said. “Not at all. Perhaps if everyone wasn’t scared of my father, I might have. These are my first.”
 
“Wait. First?” Zoey couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. She knew Rosalie’s parents were probably hard-asses—and important politically—but enough to scare away every suitor of Rosalie’s? These were the first flowers she’d ever gotten?
 
Rosalie turned and walked into their room. A vase was laid on the dresser. Zoey saw it and huffed. She’d never gotten flowers before, yet she had a vase prepared? 
 
“I’m that predictable?” Zoey asked.
 
“I gave it fifty-fifty odds,” Rosalie said. She smelled the flowers one more time, then placed them in the vase. She turned back to Zoey and smiled. “It’s a sweet gesture. Thank you.”
 
Unfortunately, Zoey actually blushed. She had intended to come off suave and totally confident, today—that seemed to be what Rosalie liked—but she was failing totally. Not that Rosalie seemed to mind. That smile had been so heart-achingly genuine. God, Zoey was still blushing. 
 
“Yeah, no problem,” Zoey said, shrugging, trying to feign an easiness she definitely didn’t feel. She held a hand out. “Let’s head out?” 
 
Rosalie took it, and not for the first time, Zoey was surprised at how delicate her hand was. She’d seen this woman rip a trapdoor from the ground, tearing hinges from wood in a scream of metal. Yet, dainty, thin fingers, with only a few light calluses.
 
“You’re wearing heels,” Zoey said, nodding at her feet.
 
“Mm. You said to dress casually, I know.”
 
“So … ?”
 
“I needed to close the gap somehow, didn’t I?” She eyed Zoey, annoyed. “You’re too tall.”
 
“It might be a headache to walk in, though. In the grass.”
 
Rosalie paused at the announcement—at the reveal of her plan. She hadn’t known they’d be heading for somewhere with grass. She shrugged. “That’s fine.” An amused look. “I can assure you I have the balance for it, if you’re concerned over that.”
 
Which … yeah. Rosalie could dance through snarling monsters without taking a scratch. Heels at the park would be—well, a walk in the park.
 
“Won’t it hurt, though?” Heels had always been a major pain in the ass for Zoey, leaving her feet aching for hours. She wore them when she wanted to dress up, but only when she was trying to impress. “Or, I guess it wouldn’t, for you.” The same deal as her balance—Rosalie’s empowered strength probably meant she wouldn’t feel them at all. “Your choice, obviously. Just want you to be comfortable.”
 
“I’ll be fine.” The two of them walked out into the hallway, making their way through the guild, headed for the city. “Grass?”
 
“I thought we’d start the day off at the park.”
 
“The park?” Rosalie sounded surprised.
 
“My mission tonight is to get you to cut loose. So, yeah. Ever feed the ducks?”
 
“Feed … the ducks?” The response was even more perplexed. “Why?”
 
“Because it’s fun.” It was more of a background activity. Something they could do while talking and learning about each other. But, it was also fun, assuming you could collect a swarm. Watching them jostle and shove each other for the crumbs was pretty funny.
 
“I’ll take your word for it.”
 
To her side, Rosalie hesitated. Zoey prompted her, “What?”
 
“I’ve fed … other animals, though,” she said, almost reluctantly—as if she hadn’t been sure if she wanted to share.
 
“Like?”
 
“Well.” She dragged the word out, working up the nerve. “My father keeps a menagerie. He’s fond of large predators. One of his many … eccentricities.”
 
“Large predators?” That had come out of left field. “Like, what, tigers?”
 
“And such.”
 
“And such,” Zoey said, eyebrows raising. “You’ve fed tigers, but not ducks, at the park.” It was a hilarious discovery, but somehow not unfitting. She and Rosalie really couldn’t be more different people if they tried—not that it was a revelation, or discouraging. Just, funny. Her dad kept a menagerie. Not usually something Zoey would discover on a first date. “So, what? You tossed them slabs of meat?” She shook her head. “I’m afraid ducks won’t be half as interesting. That’s a hard act to follow.”
 
“Hopefully not as stressful, either,” Rosalie said wryly. “The big cats weren’t so bad. But the bears … or sharks …” she wrinkled her nose.
 
No joke. A full menagerie. “Why?”
 
“Why what?”
 
“Does he keep a menagerie?”
 
Rosalie shrugged. “Like I said, he’s fond of them.” She almost seemed like she’d say more on the subject, but didn’t. “Compared to some people I knew back at the Highreach Court, it’s not that odd of a hobby. Relatively speaking.”
 
Well, by Zoey’s standards, ‘owning a menagerie’ was up there in strangeness. But, that was rich, fantasy-world people for you, she guessed. If Zoey had money pouring out of her ears, maybe she’d have similarly odd hobbies.
 
“Highreach Court,” Zoey repeated. “That’s home?”
 
Rosalie paused. Zoey had grown to recognize the reaction, though it was becoming rapidly less common, and less pronounced, with each instance. It was Rosalie adjusting, again, to the fact that Zoey didn’t know common-knowledge material.
 
“Highreach is the capital of Cypremor. So, home, yes.”
 
“That’s where we’ll be headed?”
 
“Cypremor is in Haven,” Rosalie said. “Not the Fractures. So no. We’ll be headed for Mantle, the de-facto capital of Deepshunter territory, after all this is over.”
 
Right. Zoey should’ve been able to put that together. Rosalie’s home would be in the safer realm that sat ‘above’ the Fractures, not the Fractures itself. She’d arrived recently—on turning eighteen, the standard practice for her society. Just, Zoey hadn’t gotten around to her new environment being second-nature knowledge, so she made simple slip-ups like that.
 
In a different setting, Zoey might have continued this conversation down the practical path, asking what Mantle was, and what it was like, but Zoey was more interested in learning about Rosalie, not geography and politics.
 
“That’s where the rest of your family is, then?”
 
“Indeed. Or, where they meet. My sisters are often on their own expeditions, and my father on … political missions, or whatever else. Sometimes up in Haven, as well. They’re busy people.”
 
“I bet. You said you had two sisters?”
 
They walked through the streets. Rosalie stayed silent long enough for Zoey to prompt her, “Rosie?”
 
“I’m deciding on whether I want to discuss family,” she eventually said. 
 
“Oh.” It was Zoey’s turn to stay quiet. “Obviously, you don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.” Though, Zoey had been hoping this would be their chance to move beyond secrecy, at least a step or two. Not full disclosure, but her family, upbringing, and so on, Zoey had hoped to talk about, in at least broad strokes. Zoey would too, in whatever manner she could, considering how a good portion of her personal experiences had been scooped from her brain.
 
“I suppose I should,” Rosalie finally sighed. “It’s not that they’re a sensitive subject. Rather, it reminds me of responsibilities I’m … distinctly pushing away, at the moment.”
 
“Like I said—“
 
Rosalie waved her concern away. “It’s fine. Let’s see. My sisters.” She was silent a moment longer, then sighed. “Charlotte and Elodie. I’ll start with them.”
 
3.24 The Date II
 
“I’m the youngest,” Rosalie said. “Charlotte is two years older, and Elodie, four.”
 
They had made their way from the guild and were well on their way toward Zoey’s chosen park. It was a beautiful day out; Zoey couldn’t have asked for better. She and Rosalie were crossing one of the many stretching bridges that connected the gargantuan trees that acted as structural supports for the city. Each enormous trunk had rings of scaffolding encircling it, where denizens took up residence or operated businesses.
 
Zoey had memorized the way. It would be four bridges before they arrived to the park, one of the few structures built on a tree without a canopy: where the sun would shine down without being blocked by a mountain of branches and leaves. The shade was nice in normal circumstances, but it would obviously kill the vibe of a park. How one of the titanic trees had been stripped of its leaves, Zoey had no idea. Probably, it’d died some years ago—centuries—and simply remained standing. How could a tree of that size collapse?
 
“You know,” Zoey said. “You did strike me as a youngest child.”
 
“I did?”
 
“It’s your blushing innocence, I think.”
 
“Blushing innocence?”
 
“Though, you’ve started to change my mind on that front. With how often you’re trying to seduce me, and everything.”
 
“I’m the one seducing you?” Rosalie shook her head, exasperated, realizing she was being teased. “Stop goading me. As I was saying, Elodie is the oldest.” Rosalie considered her next words. “She’s always been  … adventurous, and determined, but not in a good way. She’s unreliable. She seeks thrill for the fun of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t in Mantle when we arrive, even. You might not get an opportunity to meet her. She might be out hunting.”
 
“Unreliable?” Zoey asked. It was an unexpected description for someone of Rosalie’s family. “You know, I kind of figured your sisters would be … older clones of you, I guess.”
 
Rosalie raised her eyebrows at Zoey, and Zoey laughed.
 
And also, Rosalie having turned toward her, Zoey was struck for the tenth or twentieth time in as many minutes by her appearance: her platinum blonde hair done up in a pony tail and her bright red lipstick. Rosalie was gorgeous when sweaty and covered in grime, having hacked her way through droves of monsters. When she tried to be pretty? She could stop Zoey’s heart just by looking her way.
 
“Well,” Rosalie said, looking back forward, not noticing Zoey’s brief crisis. “It’s a half correct assumption, I suppose, but not in the way you mean. The three of us look shockingly similar.”
 
“You do?”
 
“And you better not be thinking what I think you are, about that.”
 
“Just that your mom must have strong genes,” Zoey replied. But two Rosalie look-alikes … she wondered how similar. That would be, uh, quite the sight.
 
Rosalie side-eyed Zoey. Zoey paused, knowing by Rosalie’s expression that she’d said something odd. But what? A second later, Zoey realized. Or, had a guess. ‘Genes’. That wasn’t a word regular folk knew, was it?
 
Earlier today, Maddy had asked Zoey if she had a scholarly background for using the word ‘exponential’. Zoey was too free with how she spoke, wasn’t she? Though, with Rosalie, Zoey didn’t care if she slipped up. She hadn’t decided if she was going to tell her the full truth of her circumstances, but if she did, then slip-ups like these would make the eventual explanation more reasonable.
 
“I suppose she must have,” Rosalie agreed, brushing past it. The reaction confirmed in Zoey’s head that this hadn’t been the first time Rosalie had gleaned something from the way Zoey spoke. “Anyway, Elodie is tallest by a full hand, and Charlotte keeps her hair short, these days. I doubt you’ll be mistaking us.” She eyed Zoey again, emphasizing, you better not, at least.
 
And yeah, Zoey would obviously be playing that whole situation very, very carefully. “Elodie’s adventurous, you said?”
 
“It’s the reason she isn’t the family heiress. She’s outstandingly competent, but distractible and prone to … unproductive pursuits.”
 
“Like what?”
 
“The arts. Adventure, for adventure’s sake rather than advancement.” Rosalie’s nose wrinkled. “Men.”
 
So, normal things for a young woman to be interested in. Hobbies and romance. Four years older than Rosalie, Elodie would be twenty-two. “Sounds like she’s just living life. That’s so bad?”
 
It seemed Zoey had stepped in it, because Rosalie frowned at her, then went quiet. Zoey itched to smooth the question over, but it was, ultimately, a goal of Zoey’s: she didn’t want to change Rosalie, but she did want to confront her in some small way… to make sure she was happy with the breakneck pace she set for herself, and the mountains of responsibility apparently loaded onto her shoulders.
 
“It’s not bad,” Rosalie finally said. “Perhaps Elodie … and I, for that matter,” she emphasized, “can take time off for less practical interests, but ultimately, we have responsibilities. Elodie takes it to excess.”
 
Rosalie had, of course, seen through Zoey’s question, had seen the real intent behind it. She reminded herself that Rosalie was a politician, or had, at a minimum, grown among them. She had called the place she’d been raised in the ‘Highreach Court’. Zoey’s clumsy nudging would be seen through every time. Or, maybe not every time—Rosalie did seem to have blind spots—but this occasion, at least, she had.
 
“They’re wayfarers, right?”
 
“Indeed.”
 
“And Charlotte? What’s she like? Is she the ‘heiress’, being second oldest?”
 
Rosalie’s lips pursed. “She was.”
 
“Was?”
 
Rosalie’s shoulders hunched forward, and there was a hint of bitterness when she replied. “Charlotte had the dedication, but she lacked the talent. That was my father’s perspective, at least.”
 
Ah. Zoey could tell in a glance this was a topic they shouldn’t go down. Rosalie had … what, taken her older sister’s place as primary inheritor? She wanted to learn more about Rosalie, but not at the expense of souring the mood. 
 
But still. That meant Rosalie, despite being the youngest, was the family heiress? It made sense, honestly. The way Rosalie acted suggested it. Zoey wasn’t surprised at all.
 
“I’d talk about my family if I could,” Zoey said. “But I can’t, really. Some stuff is starting to trickle back, but not the specifics. Hazy pictures.” She chewed her lip, then offered, “I think I had a brother?”
 
Rosalie glanced at her, concerned.
 
Zoey shrugged to dismiss the worry. “You don’t have to tiptoe. The memory stuff is … unfortunate … but I guess I’m coming to terms with it.” 
 
She did, at least, have a guarantee from Ephy that once ‘her purpose had been accomplished’, her memories would be returned. Or, Ephy hadn’t specified exactly when, had she? Not ‘when Zoey finished saving the world’, just a vague ‘eventually’. Would her memories continue to solidify, passively, as they had been the past week? Until she remembered everything?
 
Zoey wished she could get that troublesome goddess into a room. She could use some clarification on her circumstances. For that matter, she didn’t know what she was saving the world from. The only hint had been her date with Delta, that brief discussion of how the Fractures were ‘decaying’. But that could just be some rumor, a group of crazies perpetuating it. Zoey’s world had had plenty of those. Why not this one, too?
 
Probably not something to be musing over during a date.
 
“Well,” Rosalie said, taking Zoey’s reassurance at face value. “I suppose I am curious. Your random, unexplainable appearance into the shard I distinctly entered alone has been … perplexing me. Have any details of that returned?”
 
Zoey paused, grimacing. Rosalie had gone straight for a hard-hitting question. “I know more about how it happened than I’m admitting,” Zoey finally said, slowly. “Not that it was intentional, or expected, or even … plausible.” Maybe she shouldn’t have used the last word, because it piqued Rosalie’s interest. “But I guess I haven’t organized how I want to talk about it, yet. I was talking more … me, if you have questions.” She shrugged. “Y’know. Date stuff.”
 
Rosalie flushed, as if she’d been chided. Zoey hadn’t meant it in that way. 
 
“Right,” Rosalie said, turning forward. “I suppose you wouldn’t want to focus on … all that. This isn’t the time.” She glanced away. “I’m not … experienced at this.”
 
“You? Inexperienced at dating? I never would have guessed.”
 
Rosalie tensed, briefly, at Zoey’s teasing, then relaxed. She met Zoey’s gaze and rolled her eyes. “Yes, well. You’ve certainly chosen an interesting target of your affections. I’ll admit I don’t fully understand why.”
 
That was a statement that had Zoey staggering. Rosalie didn’t understand why Zoey would be interested in her?
 
“Yes,” Zoey said dryly. “The gorgeous, caring, brilliant woman who saved my life. How did I ever—“ fall for you, Zoey barely managed to strangle off, “take interest. An unsolvable mystery.”
 
Rosalie flushed. She didn’t reply, but her brief insecurity did seem to disappear.
 
They walked together for a while, traversing the crisscrossing bridges of Treyhull. Zoey squeezed Rosalie’s hand, and she squeezed back. Zoey looked out across the sprawling landscape. Suspended thousands of feet into the air, she had a great vantage point. It was a good thing heights didn’t make her dizzy.
 
“Almost there,” Zoey said. “This should be the last bridge.”
 
Rosalie hummed in acknowledgment. “What else do we have planned?”
 
“Feeding the ducks, a picnic, a surprise event, then dessert. I didn’t want to pack the schedule too tight, so we could relax and chat.” She glanced at Rosalie. “I hope you weren’t wanting something big and flashy?”
 
Rosalie shook her head, instantly. “No, definitely not.” She paused. “Expected it, perhaps, but not wanted. This sounds better.”
 
Zoey relaxed. She had been worried, however much she’d been convinced it was the right idea.
 
“So,” Rosalie said. “We got side tracked. You said some of your memories are trickling back? A brother? What else? Parents? Where you lived?”
 
Zoey chewed her lip. How best to go about this?
 
3.25 The Date III
 
It was odd, visiting a park hanging thousands of feet into the air.
 
Despite being wrapped around a gigantic, dead tree trunk, the park was more or less the same as the ones Zoey knew back home. Lush green grass, simple pathways crisscrossing here and there, sparse trees, and even a decently sized pond.
 
The logistics behind all that—how they’d built a park in the sky—hurt Zoey’s head, but so did the logistics behind the entire city. How had the designers and constructors managed to create Treyhull? How did they bring supplies up? How had they gotten the millions of gallons—or whatever the quantity was—of water needed to fill the pond, much less the material for the rest of the enormous tree city?
 
With magic on their side. The exact applications, Zoey couldn’t guess at, but magic in any capacity would simplify pesky things like logistics. 
 
As they completed the last leg of the trip to the park, Zoey chatted with Rosalie about her slowly returning memories—the bits and pieces she could glean, foggy as they were. She tried to be honest without revealing too much about her status as an inter-dimensional traveler … or whatever Ephy had done to get her here. Zoey didn’t know if this was a different planet, or universe entirely, or whatever. Those were questions above her pay grade. Easy to ignore, and not especially important. 
 
Mostly, she talked about her childhood memories and how she grew up. Rosalie seemed interested in trying to guess where she was from, using the tidbits Zoey described to her, but she mostly ended up perplexed—an inevitable result, seeing how the suburban lifestyle of someone from modern-day Earth didn’t match anywhere in this world.
 
It was freeing to discuss her history, even if Zoey didn’t—and sometimes couldn’t—go into real depth. Still, she painted a picture of her past, and what she’d been like, growing up. She talked a bit about family, but those bits were always the foggiest—the parts that Zoey might have an attachment to. 
 
Because that had been Ephy’s intent: to scrub her brain of distractions. And it had worked, unnerving as the experience was. She was unsettled by how she couldn’t remember her parents’ or potential brother’s face, but it also meant Zoey wasn’t agonizing over homesickness. In fact, bizarre as her time in this new world had been, she actually, unequivocally, liked it here. And that was only mostly of the fault of Rosalie and Delta. The world itself was fascinating.
 
Zoey had scouted out the Eden’s Retreat Park with Maddy earlier in the day, so she knew where to lead them. The park was busy—it was a beautiful day out, and approaching evening, so of course it was—but not excessively so.
 
“It’s crazy they managed to build all this,” Zoey said, nodding, specifically, at the pond. They were strolling its edge, hand in hand, at a relaxed pace. The first order of business was feeding the ducks, but first they had to track the sneaky bastards down. Like Zoey had said, it was a big pond. “The buildings I can kind of wrap my head around, but half a lake? How?”
 
Rosalie hummed. “It must have been an undertaking,” she agreed. “Though hardly impossible. Inventories and laborer classes make projects like this rather less intimidating than you’d think. Mostly, I can’t help but think how wasteful it all is.”
 
“Wasteful?” Zoey asked, surprised. “Why?”
 
“All this for a park?” Rosalie shrugged. “Impractical, I suppose. A waste of resources.”
 
“Having somewhere nice to relax isn’t wasteful,” Zoey said. Rosalie really did have such an overly utilitarian perspective. “Look how pretty it is. It’s good for the soul. Cities need recreational areas like this. Though … I get your point.” Even with magic aiding them, building a park in the sky—such an extensive feat. And there were several in Treyhull. Crazy.
 
“Plus,” Rosalie said. “It seems dangerous. This has to be one of the riskiest places in the city.”
 
Again, Zoey was taken off guard. “Dangerous? Why?” A second later, the answer came to her. “Monsters?” Sometimes she forgot about those.
 
“All this open air.” She scanned the sky, and Zoey couldn’t help but do the same. “It must be a headache keeping people safe. That’s why there’s so many guards.” 
 
Zoey looked thoughtfully around the park. “There are more than usual, aren’t there?” She hadn’t noticed it until Rosalie had pointed it out. The green and blue uniforms of the Treyhull City Guard had become background noise to Zoey. She was used to seeing plenty of patrols, but there were even more than normal—by a significant amount. “How common are attacks, anyway? We haven’t seen one.”
 
“We’ve been in Treyhull two days. They’re common, but not so much you’ll see one every outing.” She shrugged. “Not that I know for sure. I’m hardly an expert on Treyhull’s monster conditions. But the Fractures in general are a chaotic place, so it can’t be all that uncommon.”
 
Zoey chewed on that for a few moments. “I’m surprised so many people come here, despite that.” Zoey knew why—for the profit that came with supporting wayfarers—but even so. Were things bad up in Haven? The people here didn’t seem especially desperate, so surely not. 
 
“Haven has its own issues,” Rosalie said. “I suppose from a larger perspective, risk of monster attack isn’t such a deterrent. I’m the wrong person to ask.”
 
They walked for a few moments, Zoey considering her words. She hadn’t really thought about the Fractures’—and Haven’s—big picture. Considering her mission in this world, she really should start doing so more. But that would come later. She was on a date. She shook the thoughts away.
 
Rosalie peered around. “You know, I was promised ducks, but I’m noticing a distinct lack of them, Zoey.”
 
“Seriously. Where’d they even go?” This was the only body of water, and they’d been walking the edge for a while, scouting. The pond was, to be fair, enormous—big enough she couldn’t make out the entire span. “We’ll bump into them sooner or later. I know they’re here.” And there was hardly a rush. She was enjoying the casual conversation. That wasn’t something she and Rosalie got enough of. “How’d your day go, by the way? What were you up to?”
 
Rosalie glanced at her, amused—and it took a second for Zoey to place why. “Well,” she said, “this morning, I was training at the guild facilities, locked in a private room. See, I couldn’t do more, because I was tasked with attending to a very troublesome teammate of mine, and her excessive needs.”
 
Zoey coughed. In the moment, she’d forgotten how a good portion of Rosalie’s day had been occupied. Was sex becoming such a staple that it had only taken a few hours to forget that Rosalie had been sucking her cock between each of Maddy’s lessons? 
 
“What kind of training?” Zoey asked, moving to topics that wouldn’t have her walking awkwardly. She didn’t have her portal panties equipped, so an erection would be as inconvenient, and obvious, as before. “You advanced one of your runes, right? Practicing a new skill?”
 
“Among other things, yes.”
 
The natural next question would have been what skill, but Rosalie had already shot Zoey down in that regard once before: when Zoey had asked her what class she had. Rosalie wasn’t open about her runes and abilities, something normal to people of this world. Zoey shouldn’t take offense at it … but she did, secretly, and irrationally. She wanted Rosalie to trust her enough to give away that sort of information.
 
Rosalie leaned against her as they walked down the pond’s edge. Zoey’s heart sped up. 
 
“It’s an interesting one,” Rosalie said softly. “Practical for combat. It lets me … bend my spear.” She frowned. “It’s hard to explain. I can thrust at odd angles—ones that don’t make sense. And much farther than I should. It’s massively improved my reach.”
 
She had chosen to share, and without Zoey even asking. It made Zoey glow—probably too much. Why had Rosalie, though? Because she’d seen Zoey grow awkward, not asking ‘what skill’, which had been the obvious follow up? Either way, her stomach fluttered at the show of trust.
 
“You can warp space?” Zoey asked, trying to fight away the grin that threatened to break out. It hadn’t been some huge gesture, so she really shouldn’t be feeling giddy, but at the same time, Rosalie had made it clear that sharing any details to a person’s class was intimate—probably in a way Zoey couldn’t fully appreciate.
 
“In a specific application, I suppose. Only with my spear.”
 
“Sounds tricky to use.”
 
“My most unwieldy one yet,” Rosalie agreed. “It’ll take time to master. Perhaps this two week break is less of an inconvenience than I thought. Or at least, I have relevant matters to fill it with.”
 
Two weeks—fourteen days, which they were already on day two of. It was going to pass in a blink, wasn’t it? Zoey had so many activities to keep herself occupied. Practical ones and less practical: if possible, she’d like to get Rosalie out on another date, for this to not be a one-time thing. 
 
And maybe Delta? Maybe not so formal as a date, but Delta had invited her for a night out drinking. That could be fun. Maybe Rosalie would want to come, too? A team date.
 
“And you?” Rosalie asked. “How’d your training go?”
 
“It’s hard to tell with Maddy,” Zoey answered honestly. “She said I made good progress, but she’s so sweet I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s just trying to be encouraging.”
 
“She’s like that?”
 
Rosalie was still pressed into Zoey’s side. They’d slowed to a rather inefficient duck-hunting pace … it’d be ages before they made it across the pond’s stretching shoreline, ambling along like they were. That didn’t bother Zoey. Having Rosalie tucked into her, head leaned against her shoulder, had a glow washing through Zoey. 
 
“Yeah,” Zoey said. “You’ll see what I mean. I like her. She’s … nice.” That was the easy blanket word to use. “Though, she’s not entirely sold on my class, I can tell.”
 
“I can’t imagine why.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.
 
Zoey gave her a pointed look. “Well, some people don’t seem to mind it.” She made it clear who the ‘some’ referred to.
 
Rosalie’s cheeks colored, but she ignored the accusation. “Anyway,” Rosalie said. “It’s fine if you’re not some prodigy. You don’t need to become an expert spellcaster in two weeks. You just need to learn a few defensive spells, so if something slips me, you’ll be fine.”
 
“That’s the plan.”
 
The sun beat down with a gentle warmth. The air was starting to cool, but it was still bright and hot out, only a few scattered clouds providing shade. Pressed so close to her, Rosalie’s scent was distracting. She’d worn a floral perfume that made it hard to think. Though, Zoey would’ve found it hard to think just having Rosalie pressed into her.
 
“Near the end, I think I was getting close to ice armor not fizzling,” Zoey said. “So, if that’s a good pace …” she shrugged. “Then yeah, it went well. But I wouldn’t know.”
 
“I don’t, either,” Rosalie admitted. “I’m not a mage. But new spells take time to learn, and especially your first few. I know that much.”
 
“It gets easier with each one?” 
 
“So I’ve been told.”
 
Zoey thought about that. “Your family’s all warriors, then?” Er, what was the role Rosalie sorted herself under? “Lancers?” Classes that had an equal mix of defense and offense.
 
“Elodie uses a sword. The rest of us, spears. So, yes—all warriors, more or less. Not all lancers.”
 
“More or less?”
 
“Well,” Rosalie said. “Classes can’t be sorted so simply.” She shrugged, as if a full explanation would be too tangential to get into.
 
“I wonder if my arcana rune will advance as fast as my other two,” Zoey said. “I figure it hasn’t yet because I’ve barely used it.” Mostly, it had been her two lewder runes that she’d used to aid Delta and Rosalie. “But now, maybe it will?” Now that she was training. Advancement didn’t come only through shards—though it was the fastest way.
 
“I’d assume so.” Rosalie leaned off Zoey, abruptly, spotting something. She shaded her eyes and peered across the pond. “Ah.” She pointed. “There they are.”
 
Zoey failed to see what she was pointing at. “I’ll take your word for it.” A second later, she realized why Rosalie had spotted them so easily. “Advancements give you better eyesight, don’t they?”
 
“Better everything,” Rosalie said idly. “Haven’t you noticed? You’re technically second advancement, now. Each rune’s advancement gives passive benefits.”
 
“Right.” She thought about it. Heavy objects had felt lighter, recently, and maybe she could see and hear more sharply than before. “It’s not super noticeable, but yeah. I think so.”
 
“It’s mild at first. And more pronounced for me. I’m a physical fighter. My senses are more integral to my class, so I get more.”
 
“I’m jealous. Super strength and reflexes.”
 
“And I,” Rosalie said amusedly, “would like to conjure walls of ice from thin air. But we get what we get.”
 
That was fair. Magic was nothing to sneeze at. But super strength would’ve been pretty amazing. Specifically, for some less-than-appropriate reasons. Zoey would like to be able to toss Rosalie around like she weighed nothing. It would make certain activities … more fun.
 
Their lackadaisical pace picked up, the two of them having identified their prey. The ducks came into view.
 
3.26 The Date IV
 
Rosalie was as awkward about feeding the ducks as Zoey had hoped she would be. Rosalie didn’t say it outright, but her furrowed brow as she tossed breadcrumbs into the water and watched the animals quack and swarm showed how she felt: mostly perplexed. It was a very Rosalie reaction. 
 
Zoey was just glad she was humoring her, seeing how much of a ‘waste of time’ she must view all this. Though, her shoulders definitely seemed to have loosened from their usual ram-rod straightness. And there was a hint of a smile mixed in with her vague amusement and confusion. Zoey counted that as a win.
 
The ravenous beasts glutted, Zoey and Rosalie strolled away from the lake, headed for the spot she and Maddy had picked out for the picnic. They took a casual pace, chatting. 
 
“I can’t believe how easy you’re making that look,” Zoey said, nodding at Rosalie’s shoes. Heels in grass—Zoey could barely manage heels on flat tiles.
 
Rosalie looked down then back up, as if not understanding what Zoey was referencing, at first. 
 
Which was kind of her point. “Your heels. How do you do it? You’re like a … a panther.” Well, not the best comparison, but it’d been the one that popped into her head.
 
Rosalie raised her eyebrows. 
 
“You’ve got this … fluid grace. When you move.” Zoey shrugged. “It’s impressive. But you’re sure it’s not a problem?”
 
“I already told you why I’m wearing them.”
 
“You’re not that much shorter than me.” Zoey paused. Well, that was a lie. “You’re just … fun sized,” she amended.
 
Rosalie glared at her.
 
Zoey laughed. She really wasn’t that short—only a bit shorter than the average girl. Zoey was just tall. Had been, even before Ephy’s transformation, which had added another few inches. At least, from what she could tell. She hadn’t exactly busted out the measuring tape.
 
“I’m the shortest in my family,” Rosalie muttered. “You’re not allowed to tease me over it. I get enough of it from my sisters.”
 
Zoey nodded solemnly. “Don’t worry. You’ll have me for the top shelf, now. You won’t need to ask them anymore.”
 
Another glare, which Zoey smirked back at—and which made Rosalie blush.
 
Reaching their destination—a large oak tree with a sprawling shadow—Zoey set out the checkered blanket and laid down the picnic basket. 
 
“Hope you’re hungry,” Zoey said, sitting and stretching her arms wide, working out her muscles. They were aching from … well, all the chaos of the past few days. “But save space for dessert. You like ice cream?”
 
As it turned out, this world did have that, though it wasn’t as popular as back home. Still, Maddy helped her track down a tiny restaurant near the park, which they’d be heading to after the picnic and finger-painting debacle. 
 
“I’ve had it,” Rosalie said. “Not often. I usually watch my diet, strictly. But it’s,” she paused. “Fine.” She shrugged.
 
Zoey nodded in passive realization. Obviously, as part of her training growing up, Rosalie had kept an intense regiment, including food. That lean, fighting figure of hers hadn’t come about by accident. Or through a magical transformation, like Zoey’s had.
 
“Well. Today’s for cutting loose. We’ll make up for it tomorrow.”
 
Which brought up something Zoey hadn’t considered. While Zoey hadn’t been in horrible shape back home, Ephy’s transformation had left her much better off. Did it need to be maintained? Or was it an ongoing blessing—could she pig out and keep her figure? That’d be pretty awesome, but it was hard to test in any reasonable time frame. Unless she really indulged.
 
Rosalie hummed at Zoey’s response, continuing to humor her. She wasn’t not having fun, Zoey thought, but dates in general weren’t really ‘Rosalie’, much less ‘day-at-the-park and cute picnic’ dates. Though, Rosalie had been the one to ask, so Zoey wasn’t discouraged. 
 
Or, kind of, she’d been the one to ask. Technically, Zoey had … but Rosalie had bludgeoned her over the head to get her to do so. Her lips quirked at the memory—at Rosalie being upset Delta had ‘gotten the first date’.
 
“You ever been on a picnic?” Zoey asked. “Or is this your first?”
 
Rosalie paused as she considered the question. “Well,” she said. “Do outdoor banquets count? Of a political sort?”
 
“Did you sit on a blanket?”
 
“Certainly not.”
 
“In chairs?”
 
“That is the other option.”
 
“Well, I meant a picnic bench.”
 
Rosalie paused. “No. A regular table.”
 
“Then I’d say that doesn’t count.”
 
“Is that what makes a picnic? A bench or a blanket?”
 
“I mean, kind of?” Not really, since a picnic was really just an outdoor meal … so Rosalie was probably right. “Or, I guess not. But yeah, pretty much.”
 
“At least you’re consistent.”
 
Zoey laughed and finished unpacking the food she’d brought. It wasn’t much: a freshly baked loaf of bread with accompanying butter and jam, cheese, crackers, and fruit. Light foods, but plenty to snack on.
 
“And finally …” Zoey said, withdrawing the last item and presenting it. “Ta-da. I hope you’re not a wine snob, because one, I don’t know anything about wine, especially with amnesia, and two, I’m poor, so it’s cheap.” She grinned, waggling it. “But I thought it fit the intended ambiance.”
 
This world’s alcohol policies were looser than the ones back home, which was fortunate. She’d already guessed that from Delta’s casual invitation to go have drinks … and she could’ve guessed it even without that. Anyone down in the Fractures—a place swarming with monsters—ought to be able to buy alcohol, seeing how they were risking their lives on a daily basis. It’d have been ridiculous if not.
 
“Wine snob?” Rosalie echoed.
 
Zoey guessed Rosalie had probably never heard the phrase, common as it might be back home. Probably not a phrase thrown around by social aristocrats … or whatever stuffy circles Rosalie had grown up in. 
 
“A sophisticated palate,” Zoey amended. “Or, that’s how the wine snobs put it.”
 
Amused, Rosalie took the bottle and inspected the label. “Well,” she said eventually. “I’ve never heard of the brand. That’s not necessarily a condemnation … I suppose you might have eclectic tastes. For my sensibility’s sake, I’ll pretend it’s that.”
 
“So you are a snob.”
 
“Mm. My family was—is—exempted from many frivolities of court, but not entirely. We do need to keep up appearances.”
 
Despite that Zoey had put two and two together, hearing Rosalie so casually mention things like ‘court’ and needing to ‘keep up an image’ had Zoey off foot … and honestly, had some insecurity creeping in. She was dating this girl? Her? Zoey? How in the world had that happened?
 
Rosalie offered the bottle back, and Zoey put it aside. 
 
“What was that like, anyway? Growing up in … court?”
 
“A sidenote,” Rosalie answered, leaning back and looking away from Zoey, out into the park. “Irrelevant, compared to my training routine. Father had demanding expectations. We learned how to present ourselves in a befitting manner, but as I told you, we were exempt from much of their … games. Training took much greater focus. The court was more of an unfortunate chore.”
 
“We, being you and your sisters?”
 
Rosalie nodded. 
 
She had adopted a contemplative look, which wasn’t Zoey’s goal for today. They’d strayed into territory that could have the mood … maybe not souring, but turning away from what she wanted. This was supposed to be a cute, easygoing date. The point was to have Rosalie relaxing. And Zoey wanted to learn more about Rosalie, but not at the expense of making things heavier than they needed to be.
 
“Who helped you plan this?” Rosalie asked suddenly.
 
“What, I couldn’t myself?”
 
Rosalie rolled her eyes. “No, you just seem the type to ask for help. To make it a social event. So, Delta?”
 
Rosalie had a good read on her. That probably shouldn’t make Zoey’s stomach gooey, but it did.
 
“Maddy, actually.”
 
“You two made quick friends.”
 
“Nah, that’s just who she is. She’d help a stranger plan a date. Happily, honestly. She’s a sucker for romance. Apparently she plans all her sisters’ dates, too.”
 
Rosalie thought about that for a second, then grimaced. “I couldn’t even imagine ‘talking romance’ with my sisters.”
 
“You three aren’t close?”
 
Rosalie chewed over her response. At least she didn’t seem put off by the heavier-than-intended question. “It’s complicated. But even when we’re on good footing, we don’t … talk about things like that.” She shrugged. “You’re a very open person, Zoey. My family isn’t. Even Elodie, who’s the most of all of us.”
 
“That’s fair.”
 
Zoey passed off the slice of bread she’d been preparing. Rosalie took it and bit in, savoring the butter and jam. Next, Zoey poured two glasses of wine, then handed one to Rosalie.
 
Hilariously, Rosalie took the glass and held it up to the light, tilting her head side to side as she inspected it. She held the glass by the stem with pointer finger and thumb, then, visual appraisal finished, swirled the liquid and closed her eyes, smelling it. Finally, she took a sip.
 
“I think it’s a hoax,” Zoey said. “I bet if I gave you a blind taste test, you couldn’t tell cheap wine from expensive.” She was pretty sure she’d seen a video proving that … but explaining the concept of ‘videos’ to Rosalie was obviously not on the table.
 
Rosalie blinked at Zoey’s words. She probably hadn’t even realized the ordeal she’d gone through before taking her first sip. She’d simply been going through the motions. Rosalie hummed. “Well, there is a difference. I suppose it’s possible I couldn’t, but some people I know could.”
 
Zoey wasn’t sold. Though, maybe the gap between ‘cheap’ and ‘expensive’ wine hadn’t been closed in this world. Maybe that had happened from modern production standards. Or … who knew.
 
Zoey took her own sip. She didn’t go about the whole process like Rosalie had, instead pointedly going straight for the drink, holding eye contact with Rosalie, which Rosalie rolled her eyes at—but her lips quirked, which meant Zoey had succeeded in amusing her. 
 
She let the rich taste linger on her tongue for a moment, pretending to consider its complexity.
 
“Ah, yes,” Zoey said. “It tastes like wine.”
 
“I already believe that you’re unsophisticated. No need to play it up.” 
 
A smile played on her lips, and Zoey grinned back. The two of them continued their meal.
 
3.27 The Date V
 
“This is ridiculous,” Rosalie huffed. 
 
Zoey considered Rosalie’s canvas. A lurid display of blues, greens, and spots of reds and oranges—the flowers scattering the park—splayed out on the white sheet, brought to life by Rosalie’s fingers. Zoey made a show of inspecting the piece, turning head side to side and humming in deep consideration, like a critic appraising a fine painting for merit, deciding whether it deserved to be hung at a gallery.
 
“Well,” Zoey said, nodding firmly. “I think a toddler might have done better. It’s abysmal.”
 
Rosalie glared at her, but she didn’t defend herself. Even prickly and competitive as she was, she couldn’t deny the catastrophe she’d created. She did, however, settle for returning the insult. “And yours is much better? Is that supposed to be a cloud?”
 
Zoey looked at her own portrait, pursing her lips. It was a horrendous painting, even accounting for how she’d drawn it with finger paint, and her total lack of artistic background. But worse than Rosalie’s? Well … she wasn’t sure. It was a stiff competition. 
 
“We’ll call it a draw.”
 
Rosalie huffed, again—the hundredth time of the past twenty minutes. She’d been making the noise constantly while painting. They’d been keeping their respective canvases hidden, but hearing Rosalie’s frequent noises of displeasure, Zoey had known what to expect. Or, partially. Because could anyone be prepared for that?
 
“We might not have made art,” Zoey said sagely. “But we accomplished something much more important, and that’s all that matters.”
 
“And that is?” Rosalie asked. She eyed Zoey. She knew something was coming.
 
“The impossible. We found a way to make you pout.” She tapped Rosalie’s nose, leaving a smudge of green. “You don’t like being bad at things. It’s cute.”
 
Rosalie wrinkled her nose, going cross-eyed as she glared down at the mark Zoey had left, then turning it back toward her. How she had managed a cross-eyed glare … well, her pouting blonde teammate was capable of all kinds of incredible feats.
 
Just not artistic ones.
 
Rosalie glanced away, blushing. Zoey realized she’d been grinning a bit too dopily her way, and for too long. Zoey also cleared her throat and looked away.
 
“You’re sure it’ll wash out?” Rosalie asked. She picked at her apron—Zoey had provided them to protect their outfits—and craned around to assess the damage. “It helped, but I still got some on me.”
 
“That’s what they told us. Washes out. Should be fine.” It was a nice dress Rosalie was wearing. It’d be a shame if the stray paint had stained it.
 
Zoey took one more glance at Rosalie’s painting, laughed—which earned another glare—then collapsed backwards into the picnic blanket, stretching her arms wide. She closed her eyes. Her muscles really were so sore. Things had been nonstop go, go, go ever since she’d been thrown between worlds. 
 
A moment later, she opened her eyes. The sky was turning dark, proper evening approaching. In her peripheral, she caught sight of the enormous tree trunk towering into the sky. It’d been out of her vision for a bit, and she’d almost forgotten she was in a flying park, thousands of feet in the air. Seriously, so weird.
 
“So,” Zoey said, turning to look at Rosalie, who quickly glanced away, looking guilty. That made Zoey pause, then grin. She ignored the telling reaction … that Rosalie must have been studying Zoey while she was sprawled out. “I was thinking ice cream, like I said. You saved space?”
 
“I could go for dessert.”
 
“Perfect.” Zoey stretched one more time, then rolled to a sitting position. “Let’s get cleaned up, then head there.”
 
***
 
“Plain vanilla?” Zoey asked, aghast. “You never cheat on your diet, and you get plain vanilla when you do?”
 
“What?” Rosalie asked defensively. “It tastes good.”
 
“So do the other flavors. And … you didn’t even get toppings!”
 
“Toppings distract. Less is more. I wouldn’t expect you to get that.”
 
Zoey paused, then a mischievous smile slid across her face. The set-up had been way too perfect. “Yeah, I wouldn’t. I’m more of a ‘more is more’ girl. I thought you liked that about me.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
 
It took Rosalie a second to understand the innuendo. Her eyes dipped down, then back up, and she looked at Zoey like she was something unpleasant she’d stepped in—before shaking her head and settling into the small, elevated round table by the window. Using a spoon, she scooped out a bite of her ice cream and ate it.
 
Zoey sat across from her and likewise took a bite. She, unlike her date for the night, had made the trip to the ice cream parlor worth her time. She had laden her three scoops of varying flavors high with toppings and sugar-drizzles of various sorts—caramel, syrups, whatever they had on hand. Zoey wouldn’t say she had a sweet tooth, per se, but when the opportunity arrived, she went for it. Anything worth indulging in, in her opinion, was worth over-indulging in.
 
They ate for a few moments, before Rosalie said, a bit suddenly, “I had fun.” She met Zoey’s eyes, then cleared her throat and looked away. “This was … nice. I enjoyed myself.” She hesitated before continuing. “But … I’m not sure how often I could do something like this. Dates. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
 
Zoey blinked, surprised at the abrupt nervousness on Rosalie’s face.
 
“Of course it doesn’t bother me,” Zoey said. “Or … it does. Kind of.” Rosalie glanced up, concerned, but Zoey finished the thought: “But not because I need to constantly be going on dates with you, but because I want you to take care of yourself. You deserve time off. In general, not just with me. I guess it’s not my place to say so, but I’m worried you work too hard.”
 
Rosalie went silent. She stared down at her ice cream, picking at it but not eating. Zoey worried that she’d said the wrong thing. She had expected Rosalie wouldn’t want people telling her how to manage her time, and so Zoey had tried to soften the statement. But maybe she shouldn’t have brought it up at all.
 
“Isn’t it, though?” Rosalie finally asked.
 
“Sorry?”
 
“Your place. To tell me stuff like that. To worry.” She stared down at her ice cream and poked at it with her spoon. “That’s what … girlfriends do, right?”
 
Zoey sat there, stunned. 
 
That had come out of no where. Zoey had thought for sure that she would be the one needing to bring up the ‘g-word’, not Rosalie.
 
Rosalie looked up, worried. Zoey realized she’d sat there, eyes wide, for a little too long. Seeing Rosalie’s concerned expression, Zoey shook herself out of it. 
 
A smile grew on her face, stupidly fast. That reassured Rosalie, but had her eyes shooting back down to her ice cream, pointedly away from Zoey—a searing blush replacing the worry. 
 
“So that’s what we are?” Zoey asked. Even she could hear the grin in her voice.
 
“Well,” Rosalie mumbled. “Are we?”
 
“I dunno. A title like that … we haven’t even kissed yet.”
 
Rosalie’s eyes flicked up, meeting Zoey’s. Seeing Zoey’s grin—now teasing, not just dopey—she lifted her chin and sniffed. Challengingly, she said, “Then maybe we should fix that.”
 
Zoey’s heart started slamming in her chest. Permission. To kiss Rosalie. She’d been waiting for that for—she didn’t know how long. And she’d just been given it. 
 
So … what. Now Zoey was supposed to kiss her?
 
How was she supposed to just do that?
 
They stared at each other for a second, with Rosalie’s bravado—and some of Zoey’s own confidence—fading for nervousness, blushes replacing them. 
 
Fortunately, Zoey’s body acted for her, working up her unconscious nerve even if she couldn’t do so consciously. The table they were sitting at was tiny, so she barely had to lean out of her seat. 
 
Rosalie responded instinctively. She also leaned forward, closing her eyes. Zoey’s pounding heart reached a crescendo that genuinely concerned her. A flood of excitement—and intimidation—washed through her. 
 
She kissed Rosalie. 
 
It was barely anything. Chaste, so much less than anything they’d done before—but also so much more. She held the kiss for a few moments, savoring in Rosalie’s soft lips, before she pulled back. It felt appropriate to keep it short. Like something hot and heavy would’ve meant less, somehow, considering their relationship so far.
 
Short as it was, it set Zoey on fire. That she’d finally been allowed to do it—to kiss Rosalie. Rosalie. It stunned her.
 
“Well. There we go,” Zoey said, face burning. “It’s official. Girlfriends.”
 
“Girlfriends,” Rosalie echoed. Her own face was betraying her, as much as Zoey’s was. That only made Zoey’s stomach start doing flips in even newer and more creative ways.
 
The blushing awkwardness faded after a few minutes. They fell back into their casual conversations, though the thrill didn’t fade. Zoey could barely keep still, fidgeting for the entire rest of dessert. She caught herself grinning and had to wipe it away several times. Rosalie had to fight the tugging at her own lips, too, which just fed into Zoey’s reactions. 
 
They finished their ice cream and left. The first half of the trip back to the guild was normal enough—though Zoey was giddy the entire time, barely managing to not act an idiot. Or, too big of one.
 
The second half, though, a realization fell over the two of them. It didn’t take any explicit conversation. Their casual chit-chat fell away and they started to walk faster. To breathe faster in anticipation. The date had gone well—amazingly, even—and now they were headed back to their room.
 
They both knew what that meant. 
 
Their kiss had been chaste … but their full celebration. That, both of them knew, wouldn’t be.
 
3.28 ❤ Post Date I
 
The trip back to their room was frantic.
 
Zoey barely lasted a second through the entry before she had Rosalie pinned against the wall. She kicked the door shut with her foot, her mouth on Rosalie’s before it finished slamming closed.
 
The kiss was nothing like their chaste, heart-fluttering one back at the parlor. It was hungry and needy. She pried Rosalie’s mouth open and explored, drinking her taste. There had always been something holding Zoey back from doing this, from taking Rosalie’s lips directly, but the dam had been broken. She could enjoy Rosalie in full.
 
Still kissing, Zoey lifted Rosalie up and put her on the entry hall’s table, clattering something to the ground in the process, which she paid no attention to. Their mouths didn’t break during the adjustment. Zoey hiked Rosalie’s dress up and ran her hands up and down her legs, reveling in how smooth and warm they were under her fingers. Rosalie's own hands buried into Zoey's hair, pulling her head in closer, giving better purchase for their tongues as they tasted each other.
 
Rosalie broke away first, panting heavily. The burning flush on her face, creeping down her neck, had to be mirrored by Zoey; she felt like she'd caught fire.
 
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that," Zoey said breathlessly.
 
Rosalie returned the sentiment, but not with words. She pulled Zoey back into her mouth, returning to their frantic exploration. Her hands stopped ruffling through Zoey's hair and ventured to less appropriate places. Her smooth digits slipped into Zoey's waist band, and Zoey groaned as Rosalie rubbed her cock through her boxers. The friction was agonizing, with their rush back to the room having been more effective foreplay than actual foreplay ever could have been. She'd been rock hard for minutes, anticipating this. And Rosalie's slippery tongue against her own ... even with all of Zoey's practice recently, she might find it difficult to keep this boiling underneath her skin from pouring over.
 
Rosalie pulled back. She gasped out, "You can—you can go all the way, tonight. I want to feel you inside me."
 
Zoey growled as she picked Rosalie up, and, staggering with the awkward, frantic grip she had while still kissing her, dragged her to bed. She tossed her down onto the sheets and crawled over her. For a minute longer, she hungrily explored Rosalie's mouth, then, frustrated, pulled away. She fumbled off her shoes and tossed them to the side. Rosalie's heels followed a second later, likewise undressing herself.
 
"Keep the dress on. I want to fuck you in it.”
 
Zoey wiggled down her pants, then underwear, and finally tossed off her shirt and bra, too. It had barely been a handful of seconds to rip the clothing off, but each had been frustrating to no end. She turned back to Rosalie and crawled over her. She'd kept everything on, as Zoey had told her to. Seeing the blonde girl laid out beneath her, flushed, in her pretty blue sundress was a sight that almost stunned Zoey—except for how badly she needed to be inside her, spurring her forward with an even stronger desire.
 
Zoey hiked Rosalie's dress up at the same time Rosalie’s hand found Zoey's cock. She stroked eagerly up and down. Zoey wiggled a hand into Rosalie's panties and rubbed two fingers against her lips, smiling at the wetness she found. She pushed Rosalie’s panties to the side, leaning forward so their faces were only a few inches away. 
 
Zoey drank in the sight, then pushed her hips forward so that the tip of her cock brushed against Rosalie's entrance. Rosalie, hand still gripping Zoey's cock, ran her cock up and down, parting her lower lips. Rosalie panted up at her, savoring in the friction—and suspense—as much as Zoey was.
 
Zoey could barely hold it together. That was Rosalie's pussy she had her cock rubbing into. All Zoey had to do was push her hips forward, and she'd be in. Inside Rosalie.
 
She wanted to feel the noises Rosalie made when it happened. She leaned forward and captured Rosalie's mouth.
 
Then pushed her hips forward. 
 
She slid into Rosalie's pussy. 
 
Tight, wet walls wrapped around her cockhead. Zoey moaned into Rosalie's mouth, and Rosalie did the same—and at the same time, bucked upward with her hips, shoving Zoey deeper into her. Zoey only barely managed to keep herself from slapping her own hips forward and burying herself as deep as she could. This was Rosalie’s first time, she tried to remind herself. Rosalie had never had someone inside her, even if she had toys, and Zoey wasn't an easy person to accommodate. Those whines of pleasure were also noises of discomfort. She had to be steady.
 
"Easy, easy," Zoey breathed, breaking their kiss. The words were as much for her as Rosalie. "How are you doing?"
 
Rosalie bit Zoey's lip and pulled it back, almost painful in her eagerness. "I asked you to fuck me," she growled. "I don't care if it hurts." She bucked her hips, taking more of Zoey. "So fuck me."
 
Well … with those words … so much for Zoey's restraint.
 
She sank the last several inches, burying herself in Rosalie's tight pussy. Rosalie cried out and arched her back, fingers digging into the bedsheets. She stayed that way, frozen, for a second, then let out a low, breathless moan. 
 
They began to move together. Zoey rocked her hips slowly, thrusting in and pulling out, feeling the tightness of Rosalie's pussy grip her cock. They built up speed as Rosalie adjusted to Zoey's size. For all her desperate need, being stuffed by fourteen inches of girl cock took a moment to come to terms with. Each thrust had the noises escaping Rosalie's throat shifting more and more toward pleasure, and Zoey worked eagerly to stuff the blonde full.
 
"Did you—did you take the potion?"
 
Zoey froze.
 
Rosalie's legs wrapped behind Zoey and shoved Zoey forward, slapping her hips back in.
 
"Good," Rosalie panted. "I was hoping you’d forget."
 
"Should I— I should—“ Zoey's hips didn't stop moving, despite her words. Loud claps filled the air as she buried herself into Rosalie's pussy, spurred on by Rosalie's powerful thighs thrusting her forward. 
 
But she hadn't taken the potion. She could get Rosalie pregnant, if she finished inside her.
 
"You like it," Rosalie breathed. "The idea of—mm—breeding me."
 
"Do you, do you want me to—" Zoey couldn't think straight. The sounds coming out of Rosalie's mouth were driving her insane. Rosalie’s milking pussy had removed all rational thought. And worse, every few seconds the idea it was Rosalie’s pussy squeezing her cock thrilled through her, crushing any chance at reining herself in. "I'll take— I’ll take the potion, if you want." She finally got the words out. Somehow.
 
"Why?” Rosalie groaned. “Don't you want to claim me? To fill me up? Stuff me with your cum and breed me?"
 
Zoey groaned, agonized. Really? This was the situation Rosalie chose to dirty talk, unprompted, for the first time ever? Wasn’t she supposed to be the one blushing, with Zoey forcing out her real thoughts? Instead, she was the one taunting Zoey. And it was doing things to her.
 
"Rosie … I’m going to …"
 
"You're getting close. I know." Rosalie's powerful legs started humping Zoey in with greater force, and her lower body jerked upward into Zoey’s cock with each thrust too. Skin clapped with each stroke. Despite Rosalie's words, she wasn't in control of herself. Her eyes had a wild look to them, and her entire body was flushed with pleasure. "So. I'll make you a deal."
 
Zoey could barely hear the words. That familiar pressure was building in her stomach, cock, radiating outward, suffusing her with warmth. Fuck. She was going to cum inside Rosalie. Fill her up with her seed and make her hers. She was going to breed Rosalie. She almost couldn't hear Rosalie's next words, the idea was so enrapturing. 
 
If she’d had an ounce of sense left in her brain, she’d realize that Rosalie could just take a potion later, and they’d be fine. But lost in the fantasy of stuffing her girlfriend’s womb with a hot load, Zoey’s brain was telling her that what she was doing couldn’t be come back from. That if she finished, she’d get Rosalie pregnant. 
 
“Deal?” Zoey gasped.
 
"I'll let you finish inside, but I want something from you."
 
"Anything," Zoey groaned. She leaned her head into the bed next to Rosalie as she jerked faster and faster. She was reaching a point of no return. She really should drink the potion, even if Rosalie hadn't asked her to. Rosalie wasn’t thinking straight. But her hips weren't stopping. She needed Rosalie's pussy around her. She needed to empty herself in her pretty girlfriend. To claim her by stuffing her womb full.
 
"Anything?" Rosalie asked.
 
"Yes. Yes, please, anything."
 
"Okay. Then go ahead," Rosalie murmured into Zoey's ear. “Breed me.”
 
She didn't stand a chance. She slapped forward, her orgasm crashing into her. She came hard, crying out. Heat rushed through her veins, and every muscle in her body tensed. Her toes curled, and finally the first spurt came. Zoey pumped thick strings of hot cum fourteen inches into Rosalie, into her womb, filling her with baby batter. Unprotected. Beneath her, Rosalie began to shake, the experience crashing through her with the same force.
 
They kissed, frantically, even as Zoey's mind was wiped clean with the explosion of pleasure. Her cock pulsed and pulsed, pumping out load after load into Rosalie. It stuffed her to overflowing, pouring the sticky material out onto the bed sheets. Zoey worked in and out despite her sensitivity, rubbing at Rosalie's clit, helping her to an equally erasing high.
 
When the orgasm left her, Zoey collapsed on top of Rosalie, their sweaty skin pressed together. They panted, dizzy from the intensity of what they'd done. Zoey’s cock stayed in Rosalie’s pussy, still hard, despite how thoroughly it’d been milked. 
 
“Shit,” Zoey murmured. “Is that— I shouldn’t have—“
 
“Made me yours? Why not? I am.”
 
Zoey pulled up—somehow, despite her exhaustion—and studied Rosalie’s pale blue eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, but her orgasm had washed past her and her lucidity was back, the same as Zoey.
 
“But,” she admitted, lips curling. “It would be rather inconvenient. I’ll need to take something.” She leaned forward and kissed Zoey. “You were just so enthusiastic,” she murmured into Zoey’s lips, laughter in her voice. “You really have a thing for that, don’t you?”
 
Zoey flushed, choosing to kiss Rosalie back instead of answering. Yeah, she guessed she did. But doubly so when it came to Rosalie. She couldn’t believe she’d pumped her so full. Her cock pulsed, still inside Rosalie, at the reminder.
 
Finally, Zoey broke the kiss. “But the ‘something you wanted from me’. How much am I going to regret it?”
 
Rosalie smiled. “Well. The good news is, you won’t have to wait long to find out. I’m calling it in now.”
 
3.29 ❤ Post Date II
 
 
 
Zoey looked down at her cock, where a thick metal ring was wrapped around her shaft’s base. 
 
Rosalie’s ‘request’. What she was cashing Zoey’s open-ended promise for. The cock ring was finally seeing its day.
 
“It gets bigger with every prevented orgasm,” Rosalie said. “I … I want to see what the limit is.”
 
Whatever spell had washed over Rosalie and made her take charge had passed—she blushed and stuttered over the explanation. She even provided her usual justification.
 
“Out of curiosity, of course,” Rosalie huffed. “I’m interested because of how strange it is.”
 
“I get the feeling,” Zoey said dubiously, still looking down, and too concerned for her own well being to tease Rosalie’s flimsy excuses, “that ‘suppressing’ a bunch of orgasms is going to be … uncomfortable.” Torture, more accurately. There was edging, and then there was magically induced edging. 
 
“Well. You did promise me.”
 
“Because I had a pretty girl begging me to breed her. I was under duress.”
 
“I did not beg you. You begged me.”
 
“Is that how you remember it?”
 
Rosalie huffed and looked away.
 
“And,” Zoey added, “you’re that much of a size queen, now? I know you like it, but fourteen inches isn’t enough?”
 
“As if,” Rosalie said stubbornly. “I’m just curious.”
 
“Uh huh. It’s Delta and the dungeon trap, isn’t it?”
 
Rosalie’s attention snapped to Zoey. She gave Zoey a look so disgusted that Zoey might actually have been worried, if she couldn’t see through the act so easily.
 
“You want to be stuffed silly,” Zoey grinned. “I seriously doubt it’ll get that big … but maybe enough you can get a taste. A precursor.” 
 
She crawled forward across the bed and pushed a strand of Rosalie’s hair to the side. She’d undone her ponytail, splaying out her platinum tresses in the way Zoey liked best.
 
“I’m thinking that gel we got from the last shard might be able to recreate the stretchiness potion … and maybe something that makes me bigger, too. But I guess this is a good hold-off until then. Hopefully my skill can make things work.” She kissed the cheek of a furiously blushing Rosalie who wasn’t meeting her eyes, then said, “but since you’re torturing me, I get to pick our positions.”
 
“That’s a fair compromise,” Rosalie mumbled.
 
“Good. Then, here you go.” Reaching into her inventory, Zoey pulled out a silver stud.
 
Rosalie blinked at it. “Oh. That?”
 
[Stud of Oral Ecstasy]: Uncommon. Transforms the user's mouth into an erogenous zone. 
 
“That,” Zoey grinned. “Do you need help?”
 
Rosalie frowned as she took the item. “No.” She undid the clasp and, in a bout of nonchalance that had Zoey both impressed and horrified, stabbed her tongue through with the bit of metal. She downed a few swishes of a health potion to heal the puncture.
 
“You didn’t even use the numbing agent!”
 
Rosalie paused, then shrugged. “Pain conditioning was part of my training. That was nothing.”
 
Which was a statement that doubly horrified Zoey … though why should it? Was it that surprising? She didn’t know the details of how Rosalie had been raised, but her family hunted monsters for a living. ‘Pain tolerance training’ was par for the course.
 
Rosalie noticed Zoey’s expression, and hesitated. She leaned forward and kissed Zoey, and despite knowing why she’d done it—to distract her—it worked flawlessly.
 
Because Zoey couldn’t believe she could just do that now. Kiss Rosalie. 
 
Rosalie shivered, then pulled back. Her hand went up to her mouth, eyes widening. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, wow.”
 
Zoey grinned, remember. The last of her concern washed past. “What’s it like? Your mouth pussy.”
 
Rather than addressing the crude terminology—which Delta had first used—Rosalie continued to blink, then ran a finger down her tongue. She shivered at the sensation.
 
Zoey shuffled onto Rosalie’s lap. Her cock stuck up and pressed against Rosalie’s stomach, but Zoey was more interested in something else, right now.
 
“Open up.”
 
Rosalie blushed, but did as told. Zoey stuck a finger into her mouth, rubbing it around, between her lips and teeth, against her cheeks and tongue. Rosalie groaned in pleasure, Zoey’s finger providing pleasure wherever it went.
 
“Fuck me,” Zoey said. “It’s that sensitive?”
 
Rosalie’s panting answered for her. 
 
Zoey put two fingers back into Rosalie’s mouth. She tugged Rosalie’s chin down, prompting her to open wider, then thrust her fingers down Rosalie’s throat. She choked, briefly, and groaned at the same time—a mess of a noise. Zoey let Rosalie recover, then started throat-fucking her with her fingers, making loud squelching noises. When Rosalie’s gag reflex finally gave in again, she pulled out, dragging thick stands of saliva. Rosalie coughed into her hands, steadying her airways.
 
Zoey sucked on her fingers, tasting Rosalie. It was hardly the most inappropriate thing Zoey had done, but for some reason, Rosalie flushed crimson, shocked, and looked away.
 
“Zoey!” she protested.
 
“What? It’s just spit.” Zoey grinned at her. “Pretty sure we’ve shared plenty of that.”
 
“Just, still.” She floundered for a second, but had no good excuse. At a guess, it was because of the new sensation in her mouth. It had flustered and confused her. Zoey kind of wanted to try the oral stud herself—but later. Obviously, playing with Rosalie was a lot more fun.
 
Zoey pulled out her own stud, put it in, then leaned forward to kiss Rosalie.
 
Kissing Rosalie the normal way already flustered her … with her mouth turned into a second pussy, Zoey’s exploring tongue had her shivering in moments. Rosalie pulled back, gasping.
 
“That’s—wow. That’s intense.” She swallowed.
 
“It synergizes.” The stud Zoey was wearing made her give better head—and the stud Rosalie was wearing made her mouth an erogenous zone. It was an unfair combination. 
 
She took Rosalie’s mouth again. She tongue fucked her sloppily, and in less than a minute, Rosalie was coming apart. The novelty of the situation was probably why it happened so quick. First times were always intense. Zoey didn’t let up when Rosalie started to shake and groan in ecstasy. She explored Rosalie’s mouth, biting her lip, running her tongue around, until her spasming finish had left her.
 
“I’m … I’m supposed to be teasing you,” Rosalie accused, still panting from her strangely induced orgasm. “New rule. You have to use your—your cock.” She stuttered over the word. For having insisted that Zoey breed her a moment ago, Rosalie’s confidence had evaporated amusingly fast.
 
“Yeah, that’s fair,” Zoey said. She bit Rosalie’s lip, eliciting another groan. “Just stop being so easy to play with. I get distracted.” She leaned back on bed, shuffling off Rosalie’s lap, and laid down. Her cock stuck up into the air, and Zoey gestured at it. “Now, get your pretty little mouth to work.”
 
Rosalie flushed, but did as she was told. Zoey knew by now that Rosalie liked being teased—and even insulted, to a point. She wasn’t sure how much, and was worried over pushing that boundary. Certainly, that night at the hotsprings, one of their first encounters, Zoey had degraded her rather thoroughly, and she’d loved it. But how far could she take it where Rosalie still was having fun?
 
Choking and slapping? It was probably something best talked over explicitly … but if Zoey handled it well, working into it, she could find out through Rosalie’s reactions. The problem with asking directly was, Rosalie’s words, intentions, and wants rarely lined up. She was definitely a tricky partner to manage in bed.
 
Or in general, she guessed. But Zoey wouldn’t have it any other way.
 
Rosalie crawled across the bed, laying down so her face was a few inches from Zoey’s cock. Zoey reached down and gripped herself, then slapped Rosalie’s face with it. Rosalie made a noise of protest, but Zoey only followed up with: “I said get to work, cock slut.”
 
Rosalie flushed, but leaned forward, obeying instantly. She paused right before wrapping her lips around Zoey, though, as if realizing something. Her eyes flicked up to meet Zoey’s, and she smirked.
 
Right …
 
Zoey couldn’t cum. Literally couldn’t. Rosalie could very, very easily get her revenge, if she felt like Zoey was disrespecting her—however much she obviously liked it.
 
Still smirking, Rosalie sank down on Zoey’s cock. Zoey guessed she’d done this to herself.
 
Zoey groaned at the sensation of wet pressure wrapping around her length, and so did Rosalie, having had a cock shoved into her mouth-pussy for the first time. The vibration of Rosalie’s noises of pleasure washed through her. Rosalie’s entire body shook as her mouth-pussy was crammed with girl cock. She pushed herself down eagerly, wanting more.
 
“Look at me,” Zoey murmured, stroking a hand through Rosalie’s hair. Rosalie’s eyes had fallen down to Zoey’s stomach, focused on her task, and her own pleasure. Her blue gaze went back up, locking with Zoey’s, and Zoey sighed. “You’re so gorgeous it hurts, Rosie. I hope you know that.”
 
Rosalie paused, then pulled off Zoey’s cock. “First it’s ‘get to work, cock slut’, then it’s, ‘you’re so beautiful’?” Despite Rosalie’s attempts to sound in control, she was blushing furiously … even more so than the insults had caused.
 
“Both can be true.” Zoey raised an eyebrow. “And I didn’t say to stop, did I? Get down there, cock slut.”
 
Rosalie huffed, exasperated, and returned to her efforts.
 
A half-minute of sucking later, Rosalie pulled off again.
 
“I forgot something,” she said. She was breathing hard, and looked upset for having had to pull Zoey’s cock from her throat. She gripped Zoey’s cock and lined up her hand to its base. She marked the position with her thumb, then moved her hand up.
 
Though she was perplexed at what Rosalie was doing, she was distracted by something else: the bright red lipstick marks that Rosalie’s efforts had left on her cock. They were scattered in various places, smudges of red against her skin. Shit, she could get used to seeing that. Just another perk of an already amazing date.
 
“Perfect,” Rosalie said. “I have my measurements.” Without fanfare, she took Zoey in her throat again.
 
Zoey put two and two together. So, Rosalie wanted to see how much Zoey grew with every ‘repressed’ orgasm. Would it even be a spurt, or would it happen slowly, the longer Rosalie kept Zoey hovering near a peak? She’d be finding out soon. Rosalie’s sloppy efforts and gagging noises were quickly drawing Zoey to that boiling edge. 
 
Her situation hadn’t fully settled in. The upcoming torture. Everything felt normal so far … and the building orgasm felt familiar. Nothing amiss. What would happen, when she reached that peak? She’d just be stuck there? Or would the feeling pass, the ring eating it, and returning her to a more reasonable level of pleasure?
 
Zoey didn’t think she was in for the more pleasant of those two options. And by the determination on Rosalie’s face, she was hoping Zoey wasn’t. She wanted to see Zoey squirm and whine.
 
Which, fair. Zoey wished there was an item she could use on Rosalie with a similar effect. The things she’d be able to get Rosalie to say … she might actually die from shame, when she came down.
 
Though, the mirror, Zoey thought. There was a way to get a cock on Rosalie—just with Zoey’s body. She might have to ask Delta to borrow it.
 
Zoey stared down her body as Rosalie choked on her cock. She was in for some torture … but for now, she sighed and enjoyed the sight.
 
3.30 ❤ Post Date III
 
Normally, Zoey would try to hold off on how quickly she let the euphoria pooling in her stomach grow, either for her partner’s pleasure or for her own, but in this instance, as Rosalie bobbed up and down her cock, filling the air with loud squelching noises, she let Rosalie’s hard work yield fruit. She basked in the sensation, not holding off at all, letting Rosalie’s tight throat-muscles massage her length and coax that burning pool of heat closer to its apex.
 
The oral-fixation stud worked away on Rosalie as much as her tongue and throat worked away on Zoey. Rosalie had always been enthusiastic—if that word did it justice—when it came to pleasuring Zoey with her mouth, but now, spurred on by the stud’s effect, Rosalie was twice as eager. Her throat acted as a second pussy, and she bobbed up and down, pleasuring herself as much as she was Zoey.
 
Zoey groaned as the pleasure built. She started to work with Rosalie, bucking her hips into Rosalie’s mouth at the same time she bobbed. Since she wasn’t fighting her climax away, it was arriving quickly—almost as quickly as Rosalie’s own, by the looks of things, and the sounds she was making.
 
Rosalie pulled herself off, gasping for air. Zoey realized she’d been down there for a while. Still, she was disappointed at the sudden lack of pleasure.
 
Rosalie sat up, then repositioned herself on the bed. She hung her head off the edge, face upside down. “Hurry up,” she panted, opening her mouth. 
 
Zoey did as instructed. She climbed off the bed and shuffled over to Rosalie, gripping her wet cock and lining it up to Rosalie’s mouth, who swallowed her eagerly. 
 
She pushed forward, watching Rosalie’s throat bend outward as her cock filled it. She also admired—briefly, before it was enveloped—the bright red lipstick smearing her length. Seriously, such a great sight. She was going to have to encourage Rosalie to wear it more often. 
 
Rosalie had already had her throat opened up from her efforts earlier, so Zoey didn’t ease into things. She gripped the side of Rosalie’s head for stabilization, then started jerking in and out. There was something euphoric about the sloppy squelching noises Rosalie’s throat made as it was used. And, Rosalie was getting better. She choked less with Zoey’s violent use, her rough thrusting not causing her gag reflex to fight back as much as it had, the first few times.
 
For close to a minute, she watched Rosalie’s throat bend outward, panting in pleasure as her cock filled it up. Rosalie’s motions grew more frantic, her body squirming in place as her mouth pussy took Zoey’s cock. Zoey might’ve been worried she needed air, but she knew Rosalie would tap her thigh to let her know. No, the frantic motions meant she was getting close.
 
Rosalie’s back arched, and Zoey picked up speed, growling in animalistic excitement. She gripped Rosalie’s head even tighter and pumped with everything she had, pistoning with violent force—which, by Rosalie’s thrashing, she enjoyed. Her hands scrambled at the bedsheets, body twisting left and right as her orgasm washed over her.
 
Like usual, seeing Rosalie thrown over the edge did the same to Zoey.
 
Zoey groaned as—
 
As the heat reached—
 
Zoey whined, the promised climax not arriving. The pounding, curling heat in her stomach and caressing her cock coursed through her, pleasurable enough to be nearly painful, but distinctly not orgasm. Zoey’s body tried to rectify the problem. She’d already been slamming into Rosalie’s throat as quickly as she could, but she found a second bastion of strength. She needed relief. She needed that orgasmic peak to wash through her.
 
The squelching noises became even louder as Zoey rutted like an animal, desperately trying to find relief. It was so close. It wasn’t fair. 
 
Almost painful became actually painful. She knew what was happening, but it didn’t matter. She just had to work a little harder. A little … harder …
 
Rosalie’s shaking orgasm passed, and she patted on Zoey’s thighs to stop. She’d already let Zoey go for a shockingly long time, but she did need to breathe.
 
Zoey despaired. Stop using Rosalie’s throat? She couldn’t. She just needed a few more thrusts, and that burning euphoria would arrive. She slapped her hips against Rosalie’s face, stuffing her throat full as she tried to finish off. But it wasn’t working. Her entire body burned. 
 
She was melting with a pleasure that was turning to agony. Her climax refused to arrive.
 
Rosalie patted her thighs, more firmly.
 
Somehow, Zoey groaned and pulled herself out. She managed that, but not to stop satisfying herself. Her two hands replaced Rosalie’s throat, and she jerked herself off, trying to coax out an orgasm that refused to come. Rosalie’s saliva acted as lubricant, letting Zoey’s powerful grip massage up and down her cock. She focused on the tip, trying to force herself to cum.
 
It should’ve worked. She tried so desperately. She fell back into the hardwood floor, arching her hips with a frantic need to climax. But no matter how quickly or expertly she milked herself, it didn’t come. 
 
Finally, after an agonizing several minutes—what felt like years—she collapsed, panting and dizzy, painfully unsatisfied. 
 
She lay that way for a while, exhausted in a way even her most thorough sessions didn’t leave her. Her cock throbbed angrily, needing more—but she let it stay unsatisfied, refused to return her grip to its length, because the burning waves of pleasure (pleasure? Not so much by that point) were starting to recede.
 
Eventually, soft lips pressed into Zoey’s own, and even exhausted, her body responded. She kissed back, the idea it was Rosalie—her girlfriend—kissing her somehow washing away the exhaustion. For a few moments, she eagerly explored her tongue around Rosalie’s mouth, savoring her taste. It managed to distract her, the last of the painful pleasure fading.
 
“With that kind of reaction,” Rosalie murmured, pulling back, her hot breath washing across Zoey’s face. Zoey basked in it, not opening her eyes. “I almost feel bad. That didn’t look fun.”
 
Zoey’s breathing had calmed somewhat, but she was still panting. “I should’ve just stopped.” Trying to force it had only made things worse.
 
“Maybe. But look how well you did.”
 
A hand wrapped around Zoey’s cock, which she groaned at. It was still sensitive, but at least it didn’t start the crashing, painful waves of half-orgasm again. Zoey cracked an eye open, looking to see what Rosalie meant.
 
Sure enough, the item had worked. Zoey’s desperate attempts to work herself to climax had activated the item. The cock-ring had absorbed the energy and redirected it.
 
She’d put on at least four inches. She wasn’t sure how much thicker her cock had gotten, but enough Zoey could tell the difference.
 
“Shit,” Zoey breathed. “That’s, uh. That’s something.”
 
Eighteen inches of girl cock. Fourteen was ridiculous, and a tight fit even with her skill, so would Rosalie even be able to get it inside her, now?  Would Zoey’s skill let her any sized cock fit into her partner? Surely at some point, she’d need to rely on an additional aid—something like the stretchiness potion she had planned.
 
“If that was too much, we don’t have to keep going,” Rosalie said.
 
Zoey studied her girlfriend for a second, then snorted. “You almost kept the disappoint out of your voice.”
 
Rosalie blushed, then insisted: “I’m serious. Was that fine?”
 
“Near the end?” Zoey asked. She shivered. “Well. It got worse and worse. Just stop me, next time. Pin me down, or something.”
 
“Okay. I should’ve done that in the first place. You weren’t having fun at the end.”
 
“It’s fine. And, I imagine it was … a show.” If she’d seen Rosalie writhing on the ground, lost in overwhelming ecstasy and frantically trying to work herself to orgasm, she might have been too compromised to act rationally too. 
 
She rolled over, tumbling Rosalie into the ground. Her cock—even more oversized now—laid flat against her body. It pulsed with the contact. It hadn’t fully calmed from earlier.
 
“I don’t blame you. But yeah. Definitely stop me.” She kissed Rosalie, partly to show there was no hard feelings, and partly because her flushed expression had forced her to. How could she ever resist the urge to kiss a blushing Rosalie?
 
Rosalie groaned and writhed on the floor, which caught Zoey off guard. Right … Rosalie still had the mouth stud in. Kissing her was the same as eating her out. Zoey grinned, then pulled back.
 
“You’re still picking the positions,” Rosalie murmured, panting.  Prompting her to get back to things. She was ready for round two.
 
Zoey took Rosalie’s hand, guiding them off the floor and back onto the bed. Zoey laid down flat, pulling Rosalie on top of her, breasts pressed into each other’s, with her cock sticking between Rosalie’s thighs and into the air. 
 
Almost by instinct, Rosalie crossed her heels and tensed her thighs, squeezing soft skin against Zoey’s cock. Rosalie humped slowly up and down, caressing her length with powerful muscles. It was unfair how strong Rosalie’s legs were—for obvious reasons, considering her career and training. But just as soft as powerful.
 
“I wanted to keep kissing,” Zoey murmured, explaining her chosen position. With Rosalie laid atop her, their faces were only inches away, and Rosalie’s entire body pressed down on her own. Somehow, she wanted more skin contact. “Take the stud out?”
 
Rosalie did so.
 
“You’re intoxicating to be around, you know,” Zoey said. “You set me on fire.” She kissed Rosalie, then tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. Rosalie didn’t moan, with the stud no longer in, but that was fine. She wanted to talk, which was why she’d asked Rosalie to take it out. “Every part of you is perfect. Unfairly so.”
 
“Zoey,” Rosalie murmured back, almost chastising—telling her to stop with the over-the-top flattery. She was embarrassed … but also wanted more. Zoey could read it on her face.
 
“I’m not using flattery to get what I want,” Zoey told her. “You’re already taking care of me, aren’t you? So you can’t use that excuse. You have to accept that I’m telling the truth, just because I want to.” 
 
She kissed her again. Rosalie’s taste would never stop being intoxicating. She resurfaced to breathe, and Zoey had to organize her thoughts again, Rosalie’s kiss having scattered them. 
 
“I still can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be around you. Much less call you my girlfriend.”
 
“Stop saying things like that …”
 
Another kiss. Rosalie’s thighs caressed her in a slow, coaxing motion. Not frantically. They’d taken a slower, sensual pace. Rosalie wanted her to keep going, to keep laying the compliments on, so she didn’t distract Zoey with her competent, powerful thighs. Zoey grinned, then pulled back for breath after a long, eager minute of exploring each other’s mouths.
 
“It’s not just your body,” Zoey said, pressing her forehead into Rosalie’s. “You better not think that. It’s you. Your drive. The kindness you can’t quite stamp down. How you blush at everything … like now, when all I’m doing is telling you the truth.”
 
Rosalie kissed her, cutting her off. Apparently she’d taken it too far, and Rosalie’s embarrassment had won out. Zoey smiled into the kiss.
 
Rosalie separated, then pressed her forehead into Zoey’s shoulder. Her hips picked up speed, working her thighs up and down with more alacrity. “I said, stop saying things like that,” she murmured into her shoulder. “I’m going to be torturing you for the next hour, remember? You’ll make me feel bad.”
 
“The next hour?”
 
Rosalie kissed Zoey’s neck. “I won’t let it go too far, like the first time. I’ll take good care of you.” She leaned up, bringing her lips close to Zoey’s ear. “And in payment, at the end, you can finish inside.”
 
Well. That sounded like a deal to Zoey.
 
3.31 ❤❤ Post Date IV
 
[ Content disclaimer: Distension, excessive cum, etc ]
 
 
 
Rosalie held true to her promise. She made Zoey suffer.
 
It was mostly made up by how Zoey got to do what she wanted. Rosalie attended to her needs carefully and with enthusiasm. For nearly an hour, Zoey thrust between or into her thighs, tits, hands, mouth, and pussy. The last one—full indulgence—she avoided after the first time. Being inside Rosalie was too exciting, and exciting meant painful, considering how the band of metal on the base of her cock was stopping her from finishing.
 
Fortunately, Rosalie could overpower her and still her frantic rutting. It wasn’t fun, dangling over that edge and being unable to throw herself off, but unlike the first time, Zoey didn’t torture herself for more than a full minute, desperately trying to reach a climax that wouldn’t come. It was painful—as much as it was pleasurable—but it wasn’t unbearable.
 
Or, it kind of was. But in a good way? It was impossible to describe Rosalie giving her a titjob as a bad thing, even if climax never came.
 
Her cock grew, bit by bit. Not all at once, or as fast as the first session. Zoey had grown a full four inches because she’d jerked herself off until she felt like she was melting, unable to find relief. It had been awful, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. With Rosalie there to play guard, progress was slower, but steady—and not as excruciating. The ring grew in pace with her, otherwise things would’ve become rather untenable. But it took Zoey’s growth in pace, increasing in size itself.
 
Which led them to this moment.
 
Zoey slapped her cock down onto Rosalie’s stomach. It had always been impressive laid out against her petite blonde teammate, but now, at somewhere around twenty two inches, it was an almost comical size. It didn’t only reach up well past her belly button, but it reached past her sternum, to her collarbone, even. Zoey could keep the base where Rosalie’s pussy was, and Rosalie could give her a titjob. Insane. The sight made her dizzy.
 
“It won’t fit,” Zoey said flatly. She needed to be the voice of reason here. The excitement in Rosalie’s eye was making it obvious she wasn’t thinking clearly. She never did, caught up in this sort of thing. And to think she was the one who had gotten off five or six times, and so ought to have a clearer mind. Zoey only had gotten off once, and was finding it hard to keep her thoughts straight. But even so, she had a clearer mind than Rosalie. “It’s too big, Rosie.”
 
Despite her words, Zoey pushed her hips forward, then pulled backward, rubbing her cock along the length of Rosalie’s body. She was, despite trying to be reasonable, as transfixed as her partner. Maybe the torture had been worth it, when this was the sight that rewarded her.
 
And not even sight. She got to go in. And finish inside, too. 
 
Definitely worth it.
 
“It reaches your collarbone,” Zoey said, and for all her tone of protest, her breath was coming faster. “It won’t fit. Literally. Delta had that potion, but we don’t.”
 
“It’s worth a try.” Rosalie had a crazy look in her eyes, growing by the second. “You have that skill.”
 
“And that’s not mentioning how thick it is. It’s as big as my fist.” That wasn’t even an exaggeration. Under normal circumstances, it would tear Rosalie in two. She had a skill that helped with this sort of thing, but there was no way it would be enough. Right?
 
“We’ll have to make do,” Rosalie murmured. “I’ll just have to adjust.”
 
“Adjust.” Zoey lifted her cock up and slapped it back down. The loud clap emphasized her point, but she voiced it out loud. “Adjust to this?”
 
Rather than discouraging Rosalie, the impact of Zoey’s cock  only seemed to excite her. She seemed eager at the prospect she wouldn’t adjust. That she might be torn in two.
 
“Fine,” Zoey said. “But you’re topping.” She was worried she wouldn’t be able to control herself. An hour of teasing had left a burning sensation under her skin. Sure, Rosalie could pin her down, overpower her easily, but she’d rather that not happen. Making herself uncomfortable was one thing, but Rosalie, another entirely.
 
Rosalie didn’t need to be told twice. She grabbed Zoey and rolled her over, sitting on top of her. For a second, she sat on Zoey’s thighs and admired how Zoey’s cock reached up to her collarbone. Length wise, it was as impressive as the toy Delta had ridden. Not as wide, though. If it went in, it would still stuff Rosalie silly. There would definitely be a clear outline as it bulged her outward. Zoey’s breath came faster at the idea.
 
Rosalie kissed the tip, getting precum on her lips, which she cleaned off with a swipe of her tongue. She stood—literally stood, because that was the easiest way to handle things—and lined Zoey up to her entrance. Zoey was struck by the absurd sight. Twenty something inches. Seriously, what the hell. 
 
And why did it turn her on so much?
 
Pretty obvious why. But still.
 
“Ready?” Rosalie asked.
 
“I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to ask you that.”
 
Rosalie lowered herself down. Zoey’s enormous cock head pressed into her pussy. Rosalie ground against her, spreading herself slowly. She sucked in a breath of air, a sound of pain and excitement. Zoey also groaned. She fought against the urge to buck upward and bury herself into Rosalie’s tight, wet pussy. It wasn’t the easiest task, with how long she’d been played with, teased, and denied.
 
“Fuck,” Rosalie muttered. “It’s so big.” She rubbed back and forth, digging Zoey’s cockhead a millimeter further with each rocking movement. Zoey felt her member being enveloped, slowly. Rosalie whined as the tip finally popped in—or at least the top half of it. She still had some stretching to deal with before Zoey would be all the way in.
 
Gritting her teeth, and making a whining noise deep in her throat, Rosalie forced herself lower. A tight heat wrapped around Zoey, and Zoey groaned, arching her back. The need to slap upward was overwhelming, but she forced herself to let Rosalie set the pace. Even more than normal, she couldn’t just go at it. 
 
Her cock head finished going in. Rosalie gasped at the invasion, then  sighed, the growing pressure finally ceasing—though the wince on her face said she definitely hadn’t adjusted. That she’d gotten Zoey in at all was shocking. Zoey’s skill must be more willing to help things along than she thought. It must scale with her size, because even her previous thickness had been a tight fit, so its new girth really, really shouldn’t have fit.
 
Zoey watched as her oversized cock inched up Rosalie. Working eagerly, and panting with exertion and pleasure, she lowered herself down. A thick bulge pushed her stomach outward. It hit her belly button, then kept going. At the bottom of her rib cage, Rosalie had managed to get halfway down, or thereabout. 
 
“Still so much,” Rosalie breathed.
 
How did she sound excited about that?
 
Instead of continuing her advance, Rosalie worked herself up and down the top half of Zoey’s cock, pumping herself full in an effort to adjust to things, to give time for Zoey’s skill to work. Zoey’s cock bulged outward wherever it went, making a clear outline on Rosalie’s stomach with the upward and downward motion. Rosalie placed a hand on the bulge, tracking it as it invaded her. Each bounce had a moan escaping her lips.
 
Finally, Rosalie continued her descent. The bulge went past the bottom of her ribcage, invading up to the base of her breasts. Rosalie groaned as she pushed herself down a few more inches, and the bulge appeared between her breasts. 
 
“Guess … guess we don’t need the potion,” Rosalie panted. “Fuck, I’m so full.”
 
Zoey’s skill must be fudging the details of how anatomy worked, same as the potion, because the amount of cock Rosalie had inside her really shouldn’t be possible. Not that Zoey was protesting. She leaned forward and rubbed Rosalie’s stomach, feeling her own cock. Rosalie also rubbed, but higher up—between her breasts, playing with Zoey’s sensitive tip.
 
It was almost too much. Zoey still had the cock ring on, so she didn’t want to let herself reach climax. Or, almost-climax. That’d mean they would have to stop, and Zoey didn’t want to stop. So she fought the sensation away.
 
“Just a few more inches,” Zoey breathed.
 
Rosalie took a breath, then plunged down, slapping her ass into Zoey’s thighs. Zoey’s cock finished its invasion, the bulge pushing up to just beneath her collarbone. Rosalie moaned, and so did Zoey. The two of them shook with pleasure, and Zoey desperately fought the burning climax threatening to arrive. She’d been teased for too long.
 
“All the way,” Rosalie said, rubbing Zoey’s cockhead. “It wasn’t that bad.” She panted heavily. It’d been an ordeal for her, but her words were laced with pride. “And look at this.” Rosalie squeezed her tits together, pushing them toward Zoey’s cock. She rubbed up and down, giving her a titjob while Zoey was still inside her.
 
Zoey grabbed Rosalie’s hips and bucked into her, needing friction. The lewd display—and that Rosalie had finished her slow advance—had removed Zoey’s self control. She wanted to pump into Rosalie. 
 
The bedframe creaked as Zoey’s hips moved in pace with Rosalie’s. Rosalie bounced atop her, using her tits to massage Zoey’s cock even as Zoey was inside her. She had a wild look in her eyes, lost to lust. The same as Zoey. Seeing Rosalie stuffed with twenty inches of girl cock was too much to resist. Even more than the event back at the second shard, because this was her cock, not a toy. She felt every coaxing inch of it—all the bumps and soft, wet pressure of Rosalie’s pussy. And the noises Rosalie was making. Zoey’s cock was almost too much for her, by the sound of things. She whined and groaned atop Zoey, bouncing and sending platinum hair fluttering.
 
Zoey growled and rolled over, pushing Rosalie into the bed, so she could pump into her with better leverage. Zoey pressed her hands into the bulge of her cock, on Rosalie’s stomach, massaging herself as she thrust in and out of the tight girl beneath her. Rosalie kept the titjob going, working desperately to milk the giant cock inside her. 
 
“You said I could finish inside. That I could fill you up.”
 
“I can break the item’s effect, whenever,” Rosalie panted. “But hold off. Wait until you’re already there, and it’s stopping you. I’ll get more that way. And I want as much as you can give.”
 
Zoey pumped her hips, slapping into Rosalie’s lower half. Her stomach bulged with each stroke, nearly two feet of girl cock stuffing her. More than any time tonight, Zoey’s motions grew frenetic. She pistoned into her girlfriend with everything she had. 
 
This was her chance to stuff Rosalie like that shard toy had Delta. To fill Rosalie up until her stomach bulged outward with her seed. Maybe even the precaution of a morning after potion wouldn’t be able to stop her from getting pregnant, then. She just had to work hard enough. Had to give her every sticky spurt she could manage, until Rosalie’s tummy pressed outward with the size of her load. Until she had so much cum inside her that pregnancy was inevitable.
 
Zoey rammed up against that invisible wall, her climax refusing to arrive. Zoey growled and leaned forward, pumping faster. Rosalie cried out with the violence of her thrusting. Her hands scrambled against bedsheets, no longer pleasuring Zoey’s cock with her tits. Her back arched as Zoey’s cock brought her to climax—
 
And Rosalie let her arrive, too.
 
The block disappeared, the iron band wrapped around the base of Zoey’s cock no longer stopping her from cumming. Ecstasy arrived, and Zoey’s cock clenched. She spurted hot waves of sticky string into Rosalie. She felt every ejection course through her cock. The first few spurts—Zoey still pumping—didn’t have any noticeable effect. But as Zoey kept going and going, Rosalie’s stomach filled up. The bulge of Zoey’s cock across her body started to disappear as liquid pushed her stomach outward.
 
Seeing it, Zoey worked harder. She pumped cum into her girlfriend until she looked months pregnant, then kept going, kept filling her with her seed. Rosalie shook on the bed, coming apart with her own euphoria.
 
Finally, her muscles shaky from the heat that had washed over her, Zoey admired her handiwork. As she’d wanted, she had filled Rosalie up until her stomach bulged. That roundness was from Zoey’s cum. Zoey ran a hand across it, fascinated. Rosalie, hazy-looking, did the same.
 
“I almost don’t want to pull out,” Zoey said, wonderingly. Then, the mind-erasing pleasure withdrawing from her, letting exhausted, rational thoughts start to return. “Uh. Maybe I shouldn’t. How are we going to clean that?” When Zoey pulled out, all that cum would come spilling out onto the sheets. Then again, they’d already made a mess of things. 
 
Rosalie kept running a hand across her stomach. “You liked it, I’m taking it.”
 
“You liked it,” Zoey said, amused. It was Rosalie’s enthusiasm that had milked her so dry.
 
“Mm,” Rosalie said, absently. No direct answer—her orgasm had come and gone, so the embarrassing things she could say so easily in the moment wouldn’t show, now. “Take me to the shower. That’s our best option, I guess.”
 
Laughing, Zoey picked Rosalie up. Her distended stomach pressed into Zoey’s, and fuck, it made her cock stir again inside Rosalie. She was so hot, stuffed like this. Zoey kissed her, which Rosalie eagerly returned. 
 
Zoey did as told, waddling the two of them over to the bathroom.
 


Author's Note:

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

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