So I'm an Unaware Noblewoman's Dress, So What? (Clothing TF, So I’m a Spider…) (Patreon)

Sunlight splashed off the peaks of the Mystic Mountains as White trudged down the path to the city, looking back only to make sure none of the others were following.

Hehehe… I’m getting away with it! I bet no-one even realizes I’m gone…! 

After so long spent cooped up in camp, walking around on her own felt more thrilling than any battle. Her recent apotheosis had left her the weakest she’d been in a long time, so Ariel had insisted she be protected at all times. But sitting around with only Sael for company was so boring! She wanted to get out and explore! Who cared if it was a little dangerous? She was a goddess now! She could do anything she wanted! 

She tripped and slammed facefirst into the dirt. 

Struggling back to her feet, she wobbled unsteadily. Okay, so walking was still a little dangerous. And she couldn’t exactly fight like this either. But so what? She had a secret weapon that none of the others were even aware of…

Spying the guards at the town gate, White closed her eyes. And in a flash, transformed, her pure white dress and hair assuming the plain browns and blonde of a common peasant woman.

That’s right, Thread Weaving wasn’t the only secret she’d retained from her past life: she’d also figured out how to use her old Disguise skill! She hadn’t had much use for it back in the Elroe Labyrinth, but here in Renxandt, it had infinite applications!

Giggling, she inspected herself in a puddle. She looked just like the many farmers who brought their crops to the city from the nearby villages. The only thing she was missing was a cartful of vegetables, but the spell couldn’t make anything that large anyway. In the end, she picked up a rock and Disguise’d it as a basket of turnips. So long as no-one tried to grab one, it should pass inspection.

With a big, suspicious grin, she made her way to the gate.

*

Passing the gate turned out to be easy: the guards weren’t at all interested in her turnips, though they did insist on checking her melons. 

On the other side of the city walls, she found a nice alley and swapped her Disguise for one slightly closer to her normal form, if a little less striking. This done, she set out to explore.

It was a struggle to stay focused. Rushing down the main street of the city, she bounced from one interesting thing to the next: Ooh, look at that bridge! Oooh, look at that clock tower! Ooooh, what a pretty town square! 

There were so many people around: merchants, in their ermine robes and velvet. Peasants and farmers in their dull, well-worn robes. The occasional guard with their spear and their shield. Zipping between them, she had to fight the urge to shake their hands and ask them questions and nibble on their limbs – they were probably so tasty!

Her appetite reignited, she headed to the market, where she went from stall to stall drooling over the carrots and the parsnips and the apples and the pears and the fancy, winged fish farmed from the local rivers. Finally, she made her way across the bridge into the upper class district, changing her Disguise again to look a little more refined. She wouldn’t want them to think she was some kind of common vagrant. 

She spent an hour or so wandering the uptown, staring through the windows of high-class boutiques and studying the merchant’s wives in their dresses with an undeniable tinge of envy – their lives were so easy! 

Finally, just as she was about to leave, something caught her eye:

“Huh? No way!” Rushing to the shop window, she pressed her hands against the glass and squinted at the sign on the other side. “Made from real Taratect silk…?” 

She tapped her chin. “Could that really be true? Taratects weren’t the most dangerous monster in the world, but she still found it hard to believe anyone could harvest enough of their silk for clothing. …Apart from her, anyway.

Maybe it was just a false advertisement? Ah, but if Taratect silk were that hard to come back, it would be an obvious lie, and no-one would ever be convinced by it – you might see something like that on the black market, but here, in the middle of the city’s poshest district? 

Did that mean it was real though? Or was Taratect silk just common enough to make the idea plausible? Ah, there were so many possibilities! 

Brimming with curiosity, she stepped into the store, making the bell over the door jingle. And froze, overwhelmed, as a tidal wave of color washed over her. “Oh!” 

So many dresses! So many different dresses! There were evening gowns and night gowns and cocktail dresses and punch dresses. Ball gowns and cube gowns and even a rare triangle. Casual dresses; serious dresses. Shift and nine-to-five dresses. Backless dresses and frontless dresses and sideless dresses as well. Cut-out dresses, pop-out dresses, spring-loaded and booby-trapped dresses. Little black dresses; giant white dresses. Red dresses, blue dresses, yellow, green, and maroon dresses. Dresses in every color of the rainbow – she could smell the dyes on the cloth, and it made her stomach rumble. 

Licking her lips, she took a single step towards the nearest mannequin, and–

The backroom door flew open, and out burst a woman with a beehive hairdo and spectacles. “Oh my! A customer! This early in the morning?! Oh, but we’ve only just opened!” Clasping her cheeks, she rushed over, the measuring tape wrapped around her shoulders swinging. 

Vaulting the counter, she rushed across the store and crashed into a stop not an inch from White’s face. “Good morning! Good morning! My name is Madame Bonnet – Beatrice Bonnet – owner and purveyor of this wonderful establishment! Please, if there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask!” Seizing her hand, she shook it till it seemed it might pop off.

White winced. Too close! Too close! Madame Bonnet smelled of wax and honey, overpowering. Worse, she exuded an almost physical pressure – White wanted to shrink. Does she have an intimidation skill or something?! 

“Now,” said Madame Bonnet,“what can I do for you this fine morning…?” 

White bit her lip, struggling for words. What was she supposed to say in this situation?! She just wanted to see whether the Taratect silk was real! “T-tarate–!” 

“Taratect silk! Why, of course! Of course! Of course a woman who wears such fine white clothes as your own would appreciate our Taratect silk! Quickly! This way! This way!” Grabbing White’s wrist, she dragged her over to another corner of the store, where a party of mannequins stood resplendent in pristine white gowns like her own. “Ta-da! All genuine Taratect silk, of course. Sourced from the Elroe Labyrinth, as a matter of fact. The recent disturbances there have made it much easier to acquire.” 

White couldn’t help but smirk at that. She guessed that made sense. 

“Now!” continued Madame Bonnet. “What kind of outfit are you looking for, my dear?” 

She flinched. “A-actually–”

“A dress! Of course! Of course! I suppose it goes without saying! You’ll want something to best show off that fine figure of yours, won’t you, my dear?! Speaking of! If you wish me to weave you a Taratect silk dress…” She snatched the measuring tape from her neck and snapped it straight. “You must first allow me to measure you!” 

White stumbled back. “Wh-what exactly do you–?!” 

Madame Bonnet moved like she’d capped her Speed stat. White felt a pair of soft hands on her waist – she squealed. 

The tape flew around her, tightened. “Waist: 80cm.” 

Loosening, it dropped to her butt – she squealed again. “Hips: 95cm.” 

Finally, it shot upward, and before she even knew what was happening, wrapped around her chest – she squealed a third time, louder than ever, as it dug into her boobs. “Bust: 99cm.” 

The tape withdrew. White covered herself. “Th-that’s e–” 

Madame Bonnet, on the other hand, simply inspected her tape and clucked. “Oh dear, I’ve used the wrong tape! I’ll never be able to make you a dress with these measurements! Hold still – I’ll fetch my regular tape from the backroom! Don’t worry, I shan’t be a moment! As soon as I get back, we’ll take your measurements properly!” With a whip-like crack, she vanished into the backroom.

White froze. Cr-crap! Crap! She didn’t want that lunatic touching her all over again! She had to escape! Only, there was no time – Bonnet would be back at any second! Her only option was to–! 

Closing her eyes, she focused. Disguise! 

A veil of glimmering white light, like sunshine reflecting off snow, surrounded her. White opened her eyes again. I wonder what it’s going to turn me int–

With a hiss like a punctured tyre, she deflated, crumpling in mid-air as her body hollowed out – she would have hit the floor if not for her sudden lightness. “Ai!” Wh-what’s happening to me?! 

Flexing, she fluttered, her featherlight form floating side to side in the breeze. As she struggled to stop, another wave of change assaulted her: her arms collapsed in on themselves, sucked up into her shoulders and leaving dark holes where they’d been. Nn~! 

Now her legs did something very similar, only instead of making new holes, they vanished into her vagina and her anus instead – White squealed as they stretched wider than ever. Nnnn~! 

To her horror, they kept growing, widening till they touched and, overlapping, fused into a single gigantic hole. When the air blew into it, she felt her emptiness, felt the cold spreading past her stomach and her chest and out again through the apertures of her shoulders and her mouth – it was strangely erotic. Nnnnn~! 

Her robes suckered tight to her skin and melted into her, spreading swiftly across every patch of flesh they didn’t cover, from her neck and her face to her forearms and her thighs. Her hair melted as well, and, flowing around her, stitched itself through her new skin as a kind of silvery filigree.

As she sucked in the breath for a scream of panic, her mouth opened wide, forcing her face apart around it, and, as if it had become nothing but an empty sack, her entire head simply folded into her shoulders, leaving a large gap that stretched all the way down her back. Her eyes, wide with terror, sparkled one final time and became a pair of amethysts, which migrated downward to adorn her bodice. Looking out from them, she squealed in terror. 

The boutique spun as she spiraled towards the floor. At the last second, just as it seemed she’d strike it, the motion reversed, and she swirled – squealing – back into the air, loop-de-looped, and dropped, bottom first, towards one of the nearby mannequins. 

W-w-w-w-wait! Wait! I don’t–! 

The mannequin entered her headfirst, filling her from vagina to mouth in an instant. White screamed as she wiggled her way down it, drawn tauter and tauter with every inch she dropped, until at last, just as she couldn’t take any more of it, her end reached the mannequin’s thighs, and she came to a stop, spluttering. W-w-what–? What happened to me–?! She felt like a balloon, a big balloon pumped full of mannequin! Nnnn~! What had the stupid skill done to her?! 

She tried to cancel it, to go back to normal, but for some reason it didn’t take. 

Before she could reflect on that further, the backroom door flew open again, and out sped Madame Bonnet, another tape measure in her hands and an evil grin on her face. “Now, where are you, my buxom little…?” She paused, looking around and frowning. “Hmm. I suppose she must have left. A pity. I was looking forward to measuring those ebullient boobs of hers.” With a sigh, she retreated.

White squirmed, wincing at each little pang of pleasure this brought her. Nnngh! What the heck is happeniiiiiing?! The skill had worked, that much was clear from Madame Bonnet's reaction. But what exactly had it Disguised her as? Why couldn’t she move?! And worse, why did it feel so–?! Nnnn~! 

Fighting her own pleasure, she looked around in search of an answer. In the end, her eyes caught one of the boutique’s many mirrors, hanging on a pillar not far away from her. Staring at it, she squinted. Wait. Is that–? 

In the mirror stood a mannequin. Wearing a beautiful white dress with two glimmering amethysts to decorate its bodice.

White couldn’t move, but if she could have, she would have frozen. It turned me into a dress?! You stupid skill! You’re supposed to disguise me! Not turn me into an inanimate object! She squirmed and shook in frustration, but all it did was make the pleasure worse. Nnnnn~! 

She tried to turn back again, without success. Nnnngh! And why can’t I cancel it?! What’s stopping me turning it off?! 

She tried again. And again, but no matter how many times she tried, it simply didn’t work. She was stuck. 

Nnnnnn~! Sophia! Merazophis! Ariel! 

…Heeeeeeelp! 

***

Time passed slowly on the mannequin.

Trapped in her flimsy new body, there was little recourse for her frustration. She wanted to smash things, but she couldn’t even squirm. Worse, the stupid pleasure just kept growing! It was like she’d accidentally left a vibe in.

Just stay calm, she reassured herself. Ariel and the others will realize you’re missing and come to look for you eventually! It’s not like the Disguise skill also hides you from magic or anyth–Oh crap! 

Customer after customer passed through the doors. Some even studied her like they were considering trying her on, though fortunately none went that far. It didn’t make the experience any less stressful though. Soon enough, White wanted to collapse – it felt like it had been weeks! 

“Phew!” said Madame Bonnet. “Thank Güliedistodiez, it’s lunch time!” 

Lunch time?! 

The bell over the door rang. White froze – or froze even more, anyway. Madame Bonnet, approaching the counter, paused as well, raising an eyebrow. “Oh?” 

With a jingle from the bell, a blonde entered the store. A voluptuous blonde with curves like a timepiece and all crammed into the tightest white dress White had ever seen. With every step she took, it creaked, sounding like it would split at any second. 

Hips sashaying, boobs swinging from side to side, the blonde sailed through the store like a stray iceberg, threatening to sink any ship that dared strike her. Her sapphire eyes gleamed behind her sunglasses.

White couldn’t have moved even if she’d still been animate. What a beauty! I’m not into women, but even I want to call her ‘mommy’!

“Excuse me,” said the blonde, in the regal tones of a baroness or a dominatrix, “this is Madame Beatrice Bonnet’s boutique, no?” 

Madame Bonnet snapped out of her trance. “Of course! Of course!” Zipping across the room, she snatched up the blonde’s hands. The woman was over a head taller than her, and in looking up, Bonnet got a faceful of bosom – blushing, she mopped her brow. “I am the marvelous Madame Bonnet herself, of course! And how can I help you today, madame?” 

“Excuse me.” A young brunette in a maid’s outfit stepped out of the blonde’s shadow. “I’ll have you know that this is Regina Duslay, the 1st Countess Renxandt. And you had better show her the respect she deserves, seamstress!” 

Madame Bonnet squealed and dropped to the ground, hands clasped for prayer. “Forgive me, My Lady! I didn’t recognize you!” 

“The Countess,” continued the maid, “will be attending a garden party this afternoon, and it is imperative that she arrive in the most elegant dress of all the guests.” She tightened her eyes. “According to rumors, you are selling gowns made of Taratect silk. Is that correct?” 

Bonnet’s head snapped up. “Why– Yes! Yes! Of course! Allow me to show you them…! Ah!” 

White could only watch as the three of them marched over to her. Oh no. Please don’t tell me this is going to go the way I–

Madame Bonnet coughed. “Here, you’ll see our latest collection. All made from the finest Elroe Taratect silk. I finished this particular dress–” She pinched White’s fabric. “–just this morning.”

You liar!

Bonnet turned with a smile. “Of course, I imagine Your Ladyship will want a dress tailored especially for her, ah, figure, no? I’ll have to measure her…” Her fingers twitched in anticipation. 

“That shall not be necessary,” said the maid. “I have already performed all the necessary measurements myself.” She handed Bonnet a sheet of paper. 

Madame Bonnet stared at the maid like she wanted to stab her. 

“Regardless,” continued the maid, “I find it unlikely that time remains to tailor a new dress anyway. Her Ladyship is looking to buy off-the-rack, as it were.” 

“Off-the-rack? With a rack like th–?!” Bonnet spun away and took a second to calm herself. “Well,” she said, turning back. “I can’t make any promises, but you’re welcome to try anything that catches your eye.” 

The maid’s expression remained flat. “Her Ladyship presumed as much.” She motioned her mistress forward.

Taking a step closer, Countess Duslay scanned the display, her eyes sliding from one dress to the next. White could only watch in terror – she felt like she’d been strapped to a table as a deadly laser scythed towards her genitals. 

Just as she thought she might escape unscathed, the Countess turned to her, and the faintest glimmer of interest flickered in those frozen jewels she called eyes. “Hmm.” 

“Ah!” said Bonnet, trailing her gaze. “So, it’s my latest work that catches your eyes? A fine choice. Would you perhaps like to try it on?” 

The Countess frowned. “Indeed.” 

“As you wish, My Lady.” The maid turned to Bonnet. “Well, what are you waiting for? Have Her Ladyship’s prospective dress moved to a changing room!” 

Bonnet’s eye twitched. “Of course…” 

“And make sure it’s a secure one! No-one must be allowed to see Her Ladyship in a state of undress! If so much as a spider catches a glimpse of her, I shall see this store sued into the ground.” 

A spider! White giggled deliriously. A spider!

*

Peeling her off the mannequin, Madame Bonnet slipped a hanger through her holes and carried her through the store and into one of the changing rooms, where she hung her on the railing. This done, she turned to go, pausing only to cover the peephole with a charming picture of a duck. 

Watching her leave, White made a spirited effort to shake. This can’t be happening to me! It just can’t! It’s so stupid! 

…Wait! Realization struck. Maybe now I’m not being worn, I’ll be able to turn back again? 

She was just about to try when a thought occurred to her: what if the Countess entered the room before she could get out? That maid of hers would burn down the whole store trying to kill her! 

Urgh! Being weak sucks so muuuuuch! Argh!

She steeled herself. No. No, she had to stay calm and endure. She’d get the opportunity to turn back eventually. All she had to do was wait. 

A pale hand pushed the curtain aside, and into the stall ducked the 1st Countess Renxandt. Every single jiggling ton of her. White would have squeaked if she’d still have a mouth to squeak with. 

Pulling the curtain shut again, Countess Regina Duslay stood straight and looked down at her. If White could have moved, she would have cowered – it was hard to see her face over the uncrossable mountain range of her bust, but she got the impression the Countess wasn’t impressed.  

“Well,” she said, picking her up. “I suppose I might as well. Better to show up in rags than to be late…” With a shrug, she started to strip.

White hung on her hanger and watched, her eyes as wide as could be when they didn’t technically exist anymore, as the Countess removed first her great furred coat and her shoes, then the tight white dress practically painted over her body.

Reduced to her underwear, Miss Duslay looked no less beautiful or less curvaceous than she had fully dressed – you could practically hear the creak of her bra straps as they fought to hold in her vast bosom. Her boobs spilled over her cups like the ocean over a seawall, threatening to drown unfortunate seamen.

Unclasping it, she placed it delicately on the bench. White goggled at the woman’s exposed nipples: cherry red against pale flesh.

Outside, Madame Bonnet said something to the maid. The Countess turned to look, giving White an excellent view of her rear end as well. She wore a pair of tight white panties, though it was difficult to tell from this angle: they were so well hidden between the cheeks of her giant ass that you might have assumed she was going commando. 

White shivered. What do they feed this woman?! 

Turning back, the Countess took a step closer and examined her again, though how she could see anything over her awe-inspiring bust was a question White would have paid to have answered. Finally, with the faintest sigh, she removed her from the hanger, shrugged, and stepped inside her.

Nnnnnnnnnngh! Ah! Ah! Ah! Oh! For White, this felt a lot like biting off a bigger piece of meat than she could chew, only it wasn’t just too big for her mouth, it was too big for her entire body. The Countess filled her, filled her even fuller than the mannequin, her enormous, zaftig figure choking her from mouth to what had been her vagina and anus, and stretching every square inch of skin she passed through taut with her swollen form. Nnnnnnnnnngh! G-get out of me…! Get out…! 

The Countess’s first foot hit the floor. Raising the second, she started the entire awful process all over again. 

Nnnnnnnnnnnnah! Ah! Ah! Aaaaaaaaaaaargh! 

By the time both the Countess’s feet were back on the ground again, White felt like she’d been skewered from one end to the other. The only thing missing was the flames lapping at her as she turned, though she already felt so hot that it didn’t matter. She’d never experienced such a weird kind of pleasure before. Nnnnnnnn~! Make it stoooooop! 

Instead, the Countess tightened her grip on her straps, and, as White moaned louder than ever, tugged her up, up, up, upward, dragging her silken new skin up over the mountains and hills of her flesh. 

For White, it was a humbling experience: it reduced all of the process so far to the equivalent of a papercut. Now, as her new mouth yawned to encompass the Countess’s fertile hips, dipped inward a little to deal with her strikingly slender waist, and stretched wide again to swallow the jawbreakers of her boobs, White screamed like she was being ripped apart by wolves. 

Just as she was certain she’d tear, her mouth crossed the peak of Regina’s breasts, and with an audible snap, the Countess released her straps. Nnnnnah! 

“Hmm,” said Her Ladyship, turning to the changing room’s mirror. “This isn’t as bad as I expected. It could be a little looser, certainly…” She pinched the piece of White covering her ass, stretched it, and released it with a snap. “But it would be hard to do better. Hmm…” 

Oh, God, no! Please don’t tell me she’s thinking of–

Flicking a naughty glance over her shoulder, the Countess took a deep breath and ran her hands down herself, digging her fingers deep into her curves as she went. White, crushed between the woman’s palms and her body, squealed as she was stretched and drawn even tighter. Nnnnnn~! Stooooop! 

The Countess’s hands reached her buttocks, and she sank her fingers into her cheeks, drew them apart, and squished them back together again, trapping a noticeable portion of White’s fabric between them. Nnnnn~! It felt like having her clit caught in a vice. 

“I have to admit… Too tight or not, I certainly enjoy how it feels…” 

“Your Ladyship.” 

With an undignified squeal, the Countess spun. The maid stood with her head through the curtain. “Betty! Don’t you know that changing rooms are meant to be private?” Covertly, she peeled White out of her asscrack. 

“Your Ladyship, I bathe you.” Stepping inside, the maid frowned. “The proprietress wishes to know if the dress is to your tastes.” 

The Countess folded her arms and pouted. “I suppose it will do. We’re not likely to find anything better before the party, anyway.” 

“Excellent,” said the maid. “I shall inform the purveyor.” Her eyes lingered on the Countess’s bust for a second, and with that, she disappeared.

Sighing, the Countess turned back to the mirror and rested her chin in her hands. “Perhaps it’s better if it is a little tight,” she said, with the faintest smile. “If nothing else, I’m certain to turn heads…” 

She cocked her hips; White screamed in frustrated pleasure.

**

The frigid wind lashed Sophia’s tiny, bat-shaped body, sending her spinning in wide circles over the city. Mistress White… Mistress White, where are you?

With every passing minute, more and more people thronged the streets, making her search harder than ever. She squinted, fighting to distinguish one from the next, but it was like trying to tell one piece of hay from the rest of the stack.

Urgh! These stupid bat eyes are so useless for searching! How am I meant to find Mistress like this?! She’d have to land and search on foot – there was no other option.

Descending into an alley, she shifted back into her normal form and risked a peek into the busy street beyond. Ugh, where did all these disgusting humans come from? 

She sniffed and recoiled at their scent. “Urgh, disgust–” 

She jerked back. Wait. There’d been a tinge of something else in the air… She sniffed again – there! Mistress White’s scent! (She smelled like blood and meat and freshly-washed silk.)

Mistress’s scent led up the street and disappeared into the upper class district. Tracing it, Sophia winced. She couldn’t search dressed like this; she’d stand out like a sore fang. She’d have to use her Disguise skill. 

Taking the form of a common merchant, she stepped into the street and set off after her scent like a bloodhound.

Oh, Mistress? Where are you?

**

White squeaked as the Countess took her seat, trapping a portion of her fabric under her fat ass and drawing her even tighter in the process! 

Climbing in beside her, Betty closed the door and folded her hands on her lap. With a snap of the driver’s reins, they trundled off. 

This can’t be happening! thought White, struggling to think through the pressure of the noblewoman’s body. Not only am I stuck as a stupid dress, but now I have to wait for this rich bitch to finish having fun at her garden party as well?! How can this get any worse?!

They rolled on through the city, out of the upper class district, through the wall, and onto a country lane with all the levelness of a Sine wave. Each time they hit a bump, the carriage jerked, and the Countess bounced in her seat, giving White the briefest release from her buttocks before she dropped back down and squished her all over again. Nnnnnn~! 

At last, just as White thought her torment would never end, the carriage came to a stop. The Countess shifted about, taking a cautious peek out of the window. White squirmed. Where are we? Where are we now?! 

The carriage door opened with a click, and the coachman helped the Countess down to the ground, where Betty – somehow – already stood waiting to receive her. Clearly Bonnet wasn’t the only one with a high Speed stat.

Looking out from the Countess’s chest, White surveyed their surroundings with what would have been an impressed face if not for the fact she didn’t have one. They stood in the driveway of an elegant country manor, surrounded by a large hedgewall guarded by topiary animals. 

Standing tall – an act that left White gasping as it stretched her stomach even tauter – the Countess took a deep breath and strode through the doors. 

The butler led them through the manor to the garden, where a smooth stone path wove through a labyrinth of short hedges broken by the occasional bench or fountain. Noblemen in suits and noblewomen in dresses stood or sat and chatted and drank as small birds flitted about, chirping pleasantly. 

Accepting a parasol from the maid, the Countess snapped it open and strode forward, Betty trailing her like a shadow. With each step, those enormous breasts of hers bounced in White’s bodice, leaving her moaning like she’d been hit on the head with a hammer. Again and again and again and– Nnnn~! 

For the first hour or so of the party, the Countess sauntered around casually, nobbing with the nobs, snacking on the snacks, and gossiping with the gossips, exchanging witty bon mots about the destitution of the treasury and why the King wouldn’t do anything about it and also had they heard of this clever new means of avoiding taxes? 

Finally, just as White started to suspect she’d die of boredom, the doors of the manor opened once more, and out strode the Adonis to the Countess’s Aphrodite: a tall, blond young man with about as much muscle as you could carry without looking like a common laborer. His piercing blue eyes scanned the party, slipped straight through half the heads in attendance, and settled at last on the Countess, who froze like she’d looked into the eyes of a gorgon. Her heart hammered in her chest; heat radiated from her sex. 

Oh my Me. White wanted to vomit. 

As the new arrival strode into the garden, making the Countess blush like a teenage girl on prom night, Betty the Maid grabbed her by the wrist. “Your Ladyship,” she said, managing somehow to make this sound like she was addressing her inferior, “may I remind you that you are betrothed to the Earl of Horsex. Not to Lord Roderick Lymight, who – might I also remind you – is barely even a nobleman!” She sounded strangely passionate about this.

Countess Regina blushed that much harder – White felt it in her bodice. “Thank you, Betty, but you hardly have to remind me of that. And while I and the Earl of Horsex might be betrothed, we are not yet married. …So no-one can deny me the right to feast on those delicious treats laid out for me.” She gave Lord Lymight another good oggling.

Betty’s eye twitched. “Well, if you don’t want to hear my advice, then so be it! If you need me, I shall be with the rest of the help!” With a huff, she turned and marched away.

“Oh, Betty…! Don’t–!” The Countess took a step after her, one hand outstretched, but before she could go any farther, someone coughed. 

The Countess whirled, and White whirled with her. It took several seconds for her boobs to stop swinging, and White spent every one of them squealing at the tension. 

Lord Lymight’s voice was salted honey. “Your Ladyship,” he said, stooping to kiss her hand. “A pleasure to see you again, as always.” 

“Oh, Lord Lymight,” replied the Countess, and was it just White, or did she sound a little less ojo-sama all of a sudden? “The greatest of pleasures.” 

The faintest smile crept onto Lymight’s face. “My dear white rose, it’s clear for all to see that the summer sun does your pale complexion little good. Perhaps you’d care to retreat with me to the parlor? I hear the Earl of Manwich is holding a fascinating discussion on the merits of fox hunting.” 

For some reason, the idea of discussing fox hunting made the Countess’s heart hammer even faster than normal. “Why, Lord Lymight… I’d love to visit the parlor with you.” 

Lord Lymight, similarly, looked a lot happier than you’d expect a man about to attend such a discussion to look. “Well then,” he said, taking her hand. “Allow me to lead the way.” 

*

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Oh! Lord Lymight! Lord Lymight! Oh!” 

Leaning against the wall of the bathroom, her butt stuck out and quivering with each meaty smack of Lymight’s hips against her cheeks, Countess Regina screwed up her eyes and squealed a little louder. “Oooo…!” 

Chuckling, Lymight covered her mouth. “Careful now, my dear. Don’t get too carried away, or the entire gathering will learn of our little dalliance.” He returned his hand to her hip; Regina giggled. A second later, the smacking of cheeks resumed, and this time she squealed ever so slightly quieter.

As the nobleman’s muscular hands dug into her fabric, White squealed like she was the one was being fucked. What the hell is happening?! How exactly had things taken such a turn for the lewd? And – Nnn~! – why was she stuck right in the middle of it? 

“Oh, dearest Regina…” Lymight’s hands slip up White’s front, making her whimper at the erogenous tingling of his touch, and wrapped at last around the Countess’s breasts. He squeezed, making her squeal like a whore and leaving White writhing in endless mental pleasure – she’d never felt so abused before. 

“Oh, Roderick!” 

“Oh, Regina!” 

“Oh, Roderick!” 

“Oh, Regina!” 

“Oh, Roderick!” 

“Oh crap!” 

The door of the bathroom burst open. Lord Lymight and the Countess scrambled to cover up.

“So,” said Betty the Maid. “This is where I find you.” 

“B-Betty?!” The Countess struggled to pull White over her again. “It’s not what it looks like!” 

Betty’s eye twitched. “I am less concerned with what it looks like than what it sounds like, seeing as it can be heard from the other side of the manor!” 

Buckling his belt, Lord Lymight stepped forward. “Now see here–” 

Betty fixed him with a stare that could have melted stone. Shriveling, he zipped his fly and scurried out of the bathroom.

Gritting her teeth, Betty slammed the door after him. “What are you doing?!”

The Countess stumbled back, looking like she might faint. “I-I-I–” 

“Oh, don’t bother. I don’t know what I expected from you! Don’t you ever think?! Don’t you ever think about what this kind of thing will do to your reputation? What will the Earl of Horsex think when he hears his bride-to-be is tangling tongues with Lord Lymight of all people?!” She thrust a finger into the Countess’s face; Regina lurched back. “Didn’t you think–?!” The maid cried, red-faced and teary. “What it would do to me?!” 

For a second, the bathroom was silent. At last, Betty took a deep breath and, without another moment’s hesitation, threw herself at her mistress. The Countess pulled back, but only for an instant: the second Betty’s lips met her own, she joined in enthusiastically. The sound of their kissing was almost as loud as the Countess and Lymight had been. 

What the hell is happening? thought White. What is happening?! 

Breaking free for a deep breath of air, Betty buried her tongue in her mistress’s mouth and roamed her hands all over her curvy body, groping breasts, squeezing thighs, and generally sinking fingers as deep into fat as it would go. White squealed as she was caught between them, crushed into the folds of the Countess’s flesh. It felt like she was the one being groped. Nnnnnn~! Nnnnah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ooooh…! B-b-be gentle…! 

Betty pulled away from her Countess again, and for a second the two stared at each other, mistress to maid and back again in silence. Something passed between them. Given the heat of Regina’s sex, White suspected it wasn’t a vow of chastity. 

Grabbing the Countess’s wrist, Betty dragged her out of the bathroom and off in search of a bed.

***

For the next hour and a half, the Countess and her maid made love loudly, scissoring and screaming like they were being cut in half. Rolling around on the bed, they chewed nipples, groped butts, and fingered vaginas, sucking and squeezing and groping and teasing and generally making a pretty big mess. 

Not least for White, who, stuck between them, could only whine. She felt very much as if they were both fucking her at once. 

Mercifully, it wasn’t long until the pair’s lovemaking reached such a peak they could no longer continue without removing her. Peeling her sweat-soaked fabric from her skin, the Countess tossed her onto the back of the nearest chair and threw herself back at her maid without a moment’s pause.

Lying there, limp and sticky, White sighed in relief. For the first time since the boutique, she could actually turn back! 

The only question was, did she dare? Did she dare when the Countess and her maid were busy right next to her? She couldn’t imagine they’d be very happy about her true nature, and she wasn’t exactly in the state to put up much of a fight either. 

Swallowing her desperation, she held tight. Patience, White, she thought, thinking of the Elroe Labyrinth. Patience! 

At last, almost an hour later, the couple on the bed released one last scream of ecstasy and collapsed. White continued to wait, just in case, and eventually Betty stood and slipped into the ensuite bathroom, leaving the Countess snoring on the bed. 

Finally! thought White. Here we go! Disguise: Canc–

The bedroom door opened. White froze mid-thought. 

Into the room poked a very familiar face. Sophia?! For a second, she simply stood there and scanned the place. Then her eyes snapped to White and tightened; she grinned. Creeping in, she closed the door carefully behind her. 

White hissed inside. Crap! How did she recognize me?! 

Still grinning, Sophia crept across the room and stooped so they were face to bodice. “There you are, Mistress. I knew that was your scent I found in the boutique.” She planted her chin in her hand, grinning smugly. “Once I had it, it was trivial to figure out that you’d used the Disguise skill to hide yourself, though I don’t understand why you’d remain as an object for so long.” She flicked a glance at the bed. “Unless you just enjoyed watching…?” 

Of course not!  

Sophia shrugged. “Well, whatever the answer, I hope you’ve had your fun, but it’s time to turn–” 

The ensuite door creaked. Sophia froze. “Crap!” She looked around, clearly searching for an escape route, and at last her eyes settled on White herself. She grinned. 

Wait, thought White, realizing what the vampire was thinking. Don’t! Don’t do it, you stupid…! 

“Disguise!” said Sophia.

And with the briefest flash, fluttered to the floor as a pristine maid’s outfit. 

Marching back into the room, Betty the Maid clapped. “Wakey-wakey, Mistress!” The Countess snapped up in bed, blinking. “I’m sure you enjoyed that as much as I did, but we must be getting back to the party before anyone asks any questions.” She paused, looking down at Sophia. “Did you move my uniform?” 

With a shrug, Betty picked up Sophia and started to get dressed. Meanwhile, the Countess rolled out of bed and turned to White. 

Goddammit, thought White, as she slipped into her once more.