Dungeons & Dalliances - New Story (Patreon)

Hey everyone,

As mentioned in a previous announcement, I've been working on a new story. As my patrons, you of course get the first view.

Please let me know your thoughts and feedback on the cover image, title, summary, and first sixteen chapters. 

As a preface, the story is intended to be less of a smutfest then Ascent, though just as spicy when the moments arrive. But there's more of a focus on worldbuilding, character moments, and 'regular' plot. I'm intending to post it on RoyalRoad, which to my knowledge is stricter with smut policies.

That said, please give it a try. I think you'll find something to like.

~~~ Cover Image ~~~

~~~ ScribbleHub/Webnovel Summary ~~~

Dungeons & Dalliances

Life at Tenet Delving Academy isn’t easy in the best of cases. It’s a life filled with scheming classmates, brutal competitions, and an ever-changing, ever-deadly dungeon.

And Natalie?

Natalie’s got all that to deal with and more. Given a bizarre class where, just to reach her potential, she’ll need to get hot and heavy with as many girls as she can handle, her burgeoning career is going to be a lot stranger than most.

And that’s not even mentioning the thing between her legs.

Then again, it might not be all bad. Gathering a harem and working her way through the fit student body of Tenet Delving Academy, progressing her skills in a way only her class allows … it’s an unexpected development, sure, and weird, a headache at times, and a hundred other things. But bad?

Well, Natalie hasn’t made her mind up on that. If she’s honest with herself, she might learn to love the class granted to her … and all the sticky, degenerate adventures that come with it.

~~~ RoyalRoad Summary (has a stricter policy for summaries) ~~~ 

Dungeons & Dalliances

Life at Tenet Delving Academy isn’t easy in the best of cases. It’s a life filled with scheming classmates, brutal competitions, and an ever-changing, ever-deadly dungeon.

And Natalie?

Natalie’s got all that to deal with and more. Given a bizarre class that encourages her to cozy up with as many women as she can, her future career as a delver is sure to be a disaster … though maybe in a good way. Because if she’s honest with herself, she might learn to love the class granted to her, and all the sweaty, heart-pounding adventures that come with it.

###

Additional tags: lgbt, wlw/yuri, harem, explicit scenes

Read chapter 1 for an in-depth disclaimer.

~~~ Story Preview ~~~

~~~ Chapter One ~~~

Natalie would never admit it, but she was so nervous she might be sick.

Unlocking ceremonies were a big deal. Not only did they mark a person’s coming of adulthood, occurring on the midnight after their eighteenth birthday, but they were the day a person decided their class … the path they would walk for the rest of their life.

So, there was plenty for Natalie to be nervous about.

Then again, not really. Everyone knew what class Natalie would be getting, even Natalie herself. Or, roughly what. The gods only provided three options to deliberate over, but a person’s offered classes were shaped by the life they had led up to their unlocking. And Natalie? Natalie’s life didn’t leave much to interpretation.

Some unlocking ceremonies had an air of excitement about them—an air of mystery. Natalie’s, on the other hand, was still cheerful, upbeat, in the vein of most big events, but there was no latent intrigue hanging in the air, around the mingling party-goers. There was nothing to wonder over, little to be excited for besides the fact it was Natalie’s big day. Because Natalie would be receiving a brawler-type adventuring class, and that was as given as the sky being blue.

Sure, they didn’t know the specifics, but then, they never would. The specifics to a person’s class were private, shared with family and friends. Rarely, with a person’s adventuring party. So there was nothing for the party-goers to discover, today.

Yet even with nothing to be worried over, Natalie was nervous.

She didn’t have a habit of being nervous, and she triply didn’t have a habit for seeming nervous. Which was why she was pissed off, too. Why the hell was she being such a baby?

“Worried what you’ll get?”

Natalie jumped. She’d been stewing, alone, off to the side of the festivities, finally having extricated herself from the crowd, and so she hadn’t seen or heard Jordan arrive. That’d probably been intentional. Natalie’s best friend had always had a penchant for sneakiness. Her unlocking ceremony had been as decided as Natalie’s: she’d gotten a rogue-type class, and in a few weeks, would be shipping off to Tenet Delving Academy. The same fate that awaited Natalie.

Or, that was the plan. It depended on whether she got an adventuring class. If Natalie got a worker-type or crafter class, or anything else, then her promising future went up in smoke.

“Worried?” Natalie scoffed. “About what?”

Jordan gave Natalie an amused look, one that said she saw through her. “Doesn’t have to be rational. I was worried, too. It’s a big deal.”

“I guess.” A short pause as Natalie looked around at all of the people that had showed up. All unlocking ceremonies saw good turnout, regardless of popularity. It was tradition, and in a town as small as Tinford, tradition held weight. “I just want it to be here, already,” she added.

“Twenty minutes. They’ll be shuffling you off to the church in no time.” Another amused look. “You know, if you weren’t brooding in the corner, it wouldn’t feel like the clock’s ticking so slow.”

“Brooding?” Natalie eyed her. “I’m not brooding.”

“Stoically awaiting your fate,” Jordan corrected with a roll of her eyes. “The Architect forbid, someone ever think you on edge.”

Natalie sniffed.

“Anyway,” Jordan said. “I can’t believe Sofia showed up.”

Natalie’s nose wrinkled. Even hearing Sofia’s name put Natalie in a bad mood, and no, it wasn’t because she was the only person for two towns over that could match Natalie in the sparring ring. It was … how smug about it she was.

Sure, she never taunted Natalie outright, but Natalie could read the expression on her face, every time she scraped out her victory. Natalie didn’t understand how consistently the white-haired girl could beat her, and by such thin margins. Natalie was always a hair breadth away from winning, but it always ended the same. A loss, and Sofia’s smug self-satisfaction.

Ugh.

“If you’re trying to cheer me up, you’re doing a poor job.”

Why did Sofia show up? The reason was obvious—the aforementioned tradition, and Tinford’s tiny size—but Natalie couldn’t help but take it as a slight. She knew that was irrational, but she couldn’t help herself. Something about Sofia infuriated her. It was those … those … those stupid cheekbones.

Cheekbones?

“Cheer you up?” Jordan asked. “I thought you didn’t need cheering up.”

Natalie seized the distraction. Clearly, she was even more out of it than she’d thought, if she was thinking about how Sofia had gorgeous cheekbones. Seriously, where had the thought even come from?

The only thing Natalie wanted to do to Sofia’s face was punch it, not … anything else. Which, with how often they sparred together, was something she got to do with fair frequency. And yes, every time she landed a clean left hook square on Miss Stuck-Up’s nose was as amazing as the first.

“I don’t,” Natalie huffed. “And I can’t believe we’re stuck with her for another four years. I swear, she’s following us just to be annoying.”

“Tenet’s the only delving academy this side of the Jagged,” Jordan said amusedly. “And if we qualified, of course she did.”

Natalie made a noise of irritation. “Do you ever get tired of being reasonable? Just let me be annoyed. How aren’t you?”

“I mean, Sofia’s not that bad.”

Natalie gave her an incredulous look.

“She’s a little uppity,” Jordan amended. “But there’s worse a person can be.”

“Sofia is the devil,” Natalie said firmly, “and today is my unlocking day, so you have to agree with me.”

“Fine. Sofia is the devil.”

Natalie narrowed her eyes. There was a lack of honesty in Jordan’s amused tone … but it would do.

For a few moments, they stood next to each other, not-so-subtly watching Sofia. Natalie was surprised she didn’t feel their eyes crawling on her back.

“A devil with a great ass,” Jordan said. “Architect. How’s she get it all in there? Pulleys?”

“Jordan!”

“Oh, don’t sound scandalized. You were staring too. Look at it.”

Natalie opened and closed her mouth at her best friend, who, for the fortieth time in the past two minutes, rolled her eyes, as if Natalie were being ridiculous.

Then a second later, she glanced over Natalie’s shoulder, and the amusement faded.

“Ah,” Jordan said. “Here he comes. Looks like it’s time.”

~~~ Chapter Two ~~~

While an unlocking could happen anywhere, it was tradition to be in the church when it arrived. The lectern on the elevated platform in front of the pews had been moved aside, and a single cushion sat, awaiting Natalie.

“It shouldn’t last more than a few minutes,” Elder Britt said. “It’ll feel longer, but only in your head. When you come back, take as long as you need to compose yourself. We’ll all be waiting.”

Oddly enough, Natalie’s nervousness had disappeared the moment the old, bespectacled priest had arrived to drag Natalie away. The festivities were, obviously, not happening with the church itself, but rather, outside. Exactly as he had said, when Natalie swung open the big church doors to leave—her unlocking complete—everyone would be lined up, ready to congratulate Natalie.

She’d attended a number of unlockings on the other side of this event. Some people walked out elated after their unlocking, some relieved, and once—Daisy Spruill—sheet-white, which Natalie still didn’t have an explanation for. She’d gotten exactly the class people had expected, some variation of Baker, so what had that been about?

“Natalie?”

Natalie startled. She realized she hadn’t replied. “Yes, Elder Britt. Thank you.”

An encouraging squeeze on her shoulder, then Elder Britt departed. The empty church echoed with silence. It was odd, being here, alone, in the dark. Moonlight trickled through the big glass windows, providing just enough illumination to not bump into the pews as she walked down the aisle.

She stepped onto the platform, then stared down at the cushion. She was supposed to sit, and wait. Unlockings arrived at midnight, which would be a few minutes from now, and not a second later; if Natalie were standing, she’d fall. If she were seated, her body would keep itself supported through the fugue.

Feeling a bit odd—and the empty, moonlit church making the experience surreal—she sat down and gazed around at the empty pews. Like most churches, Tinford’s construction was the finest of any building nearby. Tinford wasn’t impoverished, but if a person went by the elegance of the ancient church, they’d assume a level of affluence that was incorrect for the middle-of-nowhere town.

She’d been sitting and staring just long enough for her thoughts to wander, when—

***

Her eyes shot open.

She’d known to expect the sleek metal face, the automaton, but the abrupt transition from real-world to dream-world sent a shiver down her spine.

Natalie studied her visitor.

The automaton’s form was androgynous, like all of theirs were. This one leaned a hint more feminine than masculine. Cobalt blue accents traced her body like artfully placed veins, and two of the same stark lines streaked from her upper cheeks and down, to her chin, imitating thick trails of tears.

There was a stark inhumanity in her form, despite the similarity—the facade of being a human. She wore an expression of complete detachment, her cobalt irises—the same color as her accents—seeming to gaze through Natalie rather than at her.

Despite her nakedness, her body was smooth and lacking faithfulness to human form. Her breasts were rounded, smoothed down, small humps without the expected tips. Even still, it was a more feminine form than most: enough to suggest ‘woman’ rather than ‘man’.

She exuded a sense of cool detachment. The automaton waited patiently for Natalie to come to terms with what she was seeing. It took a second. Natalie had only seen drawings of automatons, before, and never one in person. They were startlingly rare and only found in cities near dungeon entrances. Even then, Aradon, the capital, only had a smattering.

Nobody knew what the automatons were, or how they’d come into existence, much less The Bestower, the assistant who guided all men and women through their unlocking. Some said this automaton—not seemingly a kin to the others, for all her appearance—was a god or goddess taken a familiar form. Not a real automaton at all.

Valhaurian teachings had little to say about The Bestower. That, honestly, was one of the eeriest parts. Official Valhaurian teachings had plenty to say about everything. Too much. Plenty contradicting. But The Bestower? Silence. As if it would be blasphemous to theorize.

“Hello, Natalie.”

The automaton’s voice was devoid of emotion. That, also, wasn’t normal. The automatons who managed the Exchange, for example, were supposedly amiable people … if they could be called people.

“Uh,” Natalie finally replied. “Hi.”

Natalie was standing. She’d never stood up from the pillow placed down for her in the church, but she was standing anyway. It had been an instant, unsettling transition. She turned in a circle, taking in her surroundings. There was little to remark on. Unlocking ceremonies were hardly new, and they varied little between person to person, besides what classes were offered. Natalie had a fair enough idea what to expect.

A black void sprawled around her. She stood on a surface that resembled a black pond. Tiny ripples radiated out with each shifting of her weight. While the material looked like water … there was something off about it. And, obviously, water shouldn’t support her.

She didn’t spend long marveling over the oddity of her environment. She had more important things to focus on.

“Do you know why you’re here?” the automaton asked, coolly. Her voice was as impassive as her expression, and only slightly less unsettling.

Natalie had always been irreverent, by nature. Frequently, she failed to find solemness fitting to situations that deserved it. Here, though, she didn’t need to bite down on a sarcastic reply—it didn’t even rise up. Having a conversation with a maybe-god, and the determiner of the rest of her life, pulled a grave demeanor out of anyone, she guessed.

“Yeah,” she said. “You, uh, hand out classes.”

The Bestower’s lips quirked, and another shiver went down Natalie’s spine at seeing amusement curl—the barest hint—on the automaton’s face. People didn’t talk about The Bestower much, and when they did, it was with more or less what Natalie herself was feeling: distinct unease.

“Hand out classes,” she—they?—echoed. “Mm. More or less.” She seemed amused by how Natalie had put it.

The Bestower approached Natalie. An arm’s length away, she tilted her head and inspected her. Natalie had no idea what judgments she made. Could this creature read Natalie’s thoughts? Nothing indicated that she could, but the paranoid idea stuck.

“Well,” The Bestower finally said. “Are you ready?”

Natalie nodded, the creature’s scrutinizing inspection of her having left her wordless.

The Bestower stepped to Natalie’s side, then raised a hand in a slow, assured motion. It reminded Natalie of the way Elder Britt might gesture for a congregation to rise.

A pillar sprouted from the glassy black water, in pace with The Bestower’s hand, sending ripples shooting across the plane. They bounced harmlessly off Natalie’s shoes. Natalie watched the pillar rise, fascinated.

“I’m afraid I have little variance for you today,” The Bestower said. “You gave me little leeway.”

Gave? It was an interesting way to phrase it, but Natalie didn’t think a question-and-answer was on the table.

“First. The Berserker.” The pillar finished taking shape, resolving to a plinth with a finely carved great-axe hovering a few inches above it. The plinth, and the axe itself, was the same smooth gray, hewn from the same stone. It rotated in a slow circle, showcasing the entirety of the carving. “A warrior who channels their fury into powerful, relentless attacks. A berserker has incredible offensive potential, but at the cost of defensiveness, and clear-sightedness.”

The Bestower spoke the words in a blank tone. Not bored, but removed, as if she were avoiding inflecting her voice in any particular way, as to keep from influencing Natalie’s decision.

As for Natalie’s thoughts on the offered class … it was, as she’d known it would be—as everyone had known it would be—a melee-type fighter class.

There was a lot to think about when it came to deciding which of the three choices she would pick. This was, without exaggeration, one of the most important decisions she’d ever make. But she would rather know all of her choices before she got into the weeds. She would avoid puzzling over each as they came. She wanted the whole picture, first.

The Bestower must’ve sensed this through Natalie’s nod, so she moved on.

The second pillar sprouted. “The Juggernaut.” The pillar was the same as the previous, but the symbol was different: this time, a one-handed hammer, and behind it, a tower shield. Like the axe, it rotated in the air, slowly. “A heavily armored fighter, able to endure immense punishment. The cornerstone of a party, and a master of arms.”

The Bestower waited for Natalie to take in her words, then nod. She raised her hand one last time, summoning the last of Natalie’s choices.

“Finally,” she said. “The Adept.” A carving of a fist floated above the plinth. “A student of martial prowess, with power and agility in equal measure. Weave through attacks while delivering your own. Independent, graceful, and deadly.”

Graceful? Natalie thought. That wasn’t a word she’d use for herself. But not all classes were a one-for-one. Some deviated from what ‘fit’ with a person … sometimes by a significant amount.

Natalie looked at the three options provided to her. They were, more or less, what she’d expected. Even the adept didn’t stray from her current fighting style to a meaningful degree.

Bizarrely, she was disappointed. The choices were underwhelming. Which didn’t make sense; classes were what you made of them. And none of the options seemed bad to begin with. Stock-standard options. The kind found in adventuring parties across the world.

“Or,” The Bestower said. “I could offer you something else.”

~~~ Chapter Three ~~~ 

Natalie stared at The Bestower, at the sleek automaton of silver streaked with cobalt-blue accents. While unlockings weren’t often talked about, as most sacred events weren’t, there was little mystery behind them. Everyone experienced an unlocking, and Natalie’s parents, and Jordan, had told her what to expect.

‘Something else’?

A fourth class choice? There was no such thing. Three options. That was set in stone. Natalie’d never heard of anything different.

“This is an unusual opportunity,” The Bestower said. “And it comes with benefits as well as detriments. Would you like to hear more?”

Natalie glanced at the three pillars—at the three class choices which had been exactly what she’d wanted, expected, but were somehow, regardless, a disappointment.

“More?” Natalie asked carefully. She was still adjusting to the news, bewildered.

“You won’t be committing to anything.”

“Then … I don’t see why I wouldn’t,” Natalie said, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean, unusual?”

“As I said, it is an opportunity afforded to few.”

“Okay?” The half-answer was unhelpful. Natalie thought it’d been intentionally so. “What is it? The class name.”

“Mm,” the automaton said. “There lies the detriment. You must accept before knowing.”

Natalie stared. A class whose details were revealed after accepting? That was … besides being unheard-of … risky. For obvious reasons.

“And the benefits are?”

“Potency.” The Bestower paused. “Uniqueness.”

“Potency?”

“More powerful skills than typical.”

For the second time, Natalie reeled at the announcement. Most classes were on the same footing. They were what you made of them. While skills varied, the instances where one’s abilities were much weaker or stronger than any other’s was … well, very, very unusual.

As all of this was.

“But I couldn’t know what it is, beforehand,” Natalie repeated.

She didn’t even know where to start with that. It was … insanely dangerous. Accepting a class, without knowing what it was? It was like jumping into a dark chasm, hoping there was water, and a big pile of treasure, at the bottom.

Except, in a roundabout way, she’d been promised there was treasure—the class would be strong. The question was how hard the fall would hurt. Would it be a class wholly unfitting her? Something she wouldn’t be able to make use of, by her nature? Natalie was a brawler; she would make a horrible [Spellweaver], or something of the sorts. Even a [Ranger] she’d be a poor fit for—Jordan had always been ten times the shot she was.

Natalie was good with her hands. In being up-close and personal. Rolling around in a sweaty pile of limbs, in the chaos of a brawl. Honestly, that was almost all she was good at. Most classes wouldn’t fit well on her.

“I don’t even get a hint?”

“You do not.”

“And … that’s it? No more? Accept, and it’ll be strong, but I can’t know what?”

“Even I don’t know,” The Bestower said.

Which had Natalie blinking. Well … if that was the truth, then she guessed this creature wasn’t the omnipotent Architect, or the Maker. Not that many people believed that in the first place. Just one of many fantastical theories.

“Where did this come from?” Natalie asked. “Why me?”

The Bestower shrugged, which was an oddly human reaction on the thus-far impassive being. “That’s not for me to know, either.”

“Right,” Natalie said. “Okay. Sure.” It was probably too sarcastic of a tone, considering who or what she was speaking to, but her filter was falling away from shock.

She rubbed her face, then looked back at her other three choices. The ones she had expected, and wanted. Sure, they were boring, if she were being honest—and, inexplicably, the smallest bit a disappointment—but a person’s class didn’t need to be the most amazing thing in the world. Natalie could make great use of a [Berserker]’s skills, or an [Adept]’s. She already had a spot in Tenet, conditional on receiving an adventuring class.

Which startled her with the reminder. “Will it at least be a combat class? It needs to be.” She couldn’t risk it otherwise. Even if the class was powerful, Natalie had a path in life she intended to walk, no exceptions. She wouldn’t risk not being able to attend Tenet with Jordan.

The Bestower tilted her head, and Natalie was, oddly, struck by the impression she was conferring with someone. Did gods—or eldritch creatures—have parties? She didn’t see why not, odd as it was to think about.

“It will be a class with … combat applications,” The Bestower finally said. “That’s the most that will be provided.”

Despite saying earlier Natalie wouldn’t get a hint, the automaton had answered her. Did that mean … she wanted Natalie to accept? Or that someone did?

And again, Natalie noted The Bestower’s phrasing. Not, ‘I will provide’, but, ‘will be provided’. It implied something … even if Natalie couldn’t place exactly what.

But the answer had the tension draining from Natalie’s shoulders. A combat class. Or something with combat applications, whatever that meant. Why had the automaton put it that way?

Honestly, the clarification would fit a variety of classes. Mages, to name one. Some mages didn’t become adventurers, instead progressing through study and practice, locking up in collegiums and inventing spell formulae. The Bestower might have phrased it in that way to be specific; the class could be fully combat functional, but with other uses, too.

Either way, it served her purpose for getting into Tenet. Past that, did it matter? An unheard-of chance for a powerful class … it was something most people couldn’t dream of. How could Natalie turn the offer down? However strange, or ill-fitting, it might be.

And Natalie had always had an adventurous spirit. She didn’t take the road more traveled whenever possible. The opposite. Something as crazy as this? She felt compelled to accept, regardless the risk. Her only hard criteria had been a combat class, so she could follow Jordan to Tenet as had been their dream since they were kids. Beyond that … did it matter?

But gods, what would it be?

“I have time to think, right?”

“As much as you need.”

That part of her unlocking, then, wasn’t any different. She’d been told many times she would have plenty of time to consider her options. There was no need to rush into anything. Even Natalie, typically reckless, wouldn’t pick her class based on how she was feeling in the moment.

So. Time to think.

“Okay. Just … give me a second.”

Natalie sat down cross-legged, closed her eyes to focus, and thought.

~~~ Chapter Four ~~~

In the end, she couldn’t turn the offer down. But coming to that conclusion took a while of just sitting there, running her brain in circles. The Bestower, at least, waited patiently. She didn’t speak a word as the minutes ticked by. Natalie supposed it made sense a deity—or pseudo-deity, or whatever the automaton was—would be endlessly patient.

And honestly, Natalie didn’t think she spent more time deliberating than most, so it wasn’t like The Bestower had to be overly long-suffering. Natalie would never call herself a meticulous person. It was only because of the monumental circumstances—her unlocking—that she gave the decision the consideration it deserved. Most situations, she’d go with her gut. Jump in with much less forethought than appropriate. The Architect knew Jordan had complained about Natalie’s brashness more than once, through their adolescent adventures across the Entwining Forest.

Natalie sighed, then stood.

“Okay,” she said. “I accept.”

An unsurprised nod. Had she known Natalie would agree before even she had? Though, the lack of surprise might just be from a stoic nature. Or disinterest. Natalie might be reading into things.

Certainly, the decision Natalie had made wouldn’t be a given for all people. Despite the class being guaranteed to be powerful, not everyone would take it. Not knowing the class you were picking … there was serious risk, there. Even three choices weren’t enough options to make people comfortable.

The plinths holding Natalie’s classes sank into the glass-like water. Natalie’s heart jumped, seeing her potential future vanish, for everything to become so suddenly unknown. She vibrated with nerves.

“So,” Natalie said. “What is it?”

“Goodbye, Natalie,” The Bestower said, turning away.

Natalie blinked, not expecting the response. She opened her mouth to call out—

***

And her eyes shot open.

The empty, moonlit church greeted her.

For a moment, she sat there in silence, perched atop the cushion Elder Britt had placed down for her.

Her unlocking had ended, and she didn’t even know what class she’d received?

She scrambled to her feet. Adrenaline doused her, and she tried to fight through the panic and shock, to wrestle some sort of clear-mindedness back. It took effort. Natalie had never had great control over her emotions. At least the dead-silent church provided no distractions.

Okay.

So.

The Bestower hadn’t told her what class she’d got, but there was a way to determine one’s class and skills. Obviously. Unlockings were a one time event. How would people know their level and skills as they progressed, without something of the sort?

Looking inward, Natalie quested out. It was something she’d never done before, but everyone with a class—so, everyone over the age of eighteen—was given a basic skill, [Inspect].

***

Natalie / Level 1

Paladin of Lust

Stats

Furor: F

Tenacity: F+

Prowess: F-

Gear

Weapon Slot 1: <Unused>

Weapon Slot 2: <Unused>

Equipment Slot 1: <Unused>

Equipment Slot 2: <Unused>

Equipment Slot 3: <Unused>

Equipment Slot 4: <Unused>

***

Natalie’s brain locked up.

‘Paladin of Lust’?

Huh?

That was her class name?

The oddity of having the information placed in her head—at experiencing the [Inspect] skill for the first time—went ignored over the much more shocking item of interest.

Paladin of Lust?

What in the world?

What kind of class was that?

‘Paladin’. That was the easier part to digest. Paladins were, to Natalie’s knowledge, rare, but not unheard-of. They held to a specific god, which their powers were derived from. Or, ‘held’ in a loose sense. Natalie didn’t know if it required actual worship. But paladins revolved around an aspect—a theme—which were tied to a specific god or goddess.

So, ‘Lust’? Who was the god of lust? Truth told, there were too many to keep track of, and Natalie had never paid attention to Elder Britt’s lectures. She knew the Upper Pantheon, of course, because everyone did. But only the most common of the Lower: Setrus, The Trickster, or Thorne, God of the Forge, and so on.

But it didn’t matter who her patron was. What mattered was … what it meant. Implied.

And weren’t Paladins half-mages? A fighter-mage hybrid was the most accurate way to put it, but paladins were definitely spellcasters, as a whole.

Natalie, a mage? Even as a hybrid, the idea was laughable. Proficiency with magic was so … antithetical to her … that Natalie felt like she ought to laugh.

It was what she’d been worried over, accepting an unknown class. Getting something unsuited to her. Natalie didn’t know how to cast spells. Classes only amplified, not created from nothing. Even someone without a mage class could cast a spell, just never to the level of a real mage. It was how places like Tenet sorted for candidates before they reached their unlocking. Aptitude was proven before a class was obtained. And Natalie had aptitude in fighting … but definitely not casting.

What had she expected? She’d known it would be a mystery what she received. Honestly, at least a Paladin was half a fighter. She fit somewhat with the class.

But Natalie was shying away from the actual problem.

The whole … ‘lust’ part.

What the hell did it mean? Or entail?

Surely not … ?

What other interpretations were there?

Natalie didn’t get to stew in silence for long. Adrenaline and shock had masked something obvious from her, but as she came down—slowly, and certainly not all the way—something attention-grabbing forced her focus away from her class’s name, and all the implications.

Something … somehow even more shocking.

Her body.

Something had changed.

Something between her legs. Something was there, that hadn’t been, before.

What?

For the second time, Natalie’s brain blanked out.

She pulled on her waistband and looked down. The fabric to her pants didn’t yield much, only letting Natalie pull a few inches out, and it was dark inside the moonlit church, but it was enough to identify the problem. To … discern the invader.

The piece of biology that had definitelynot been there before.

She had a cock.

A dick. Tucked into her underwear. It sat there, soft and wrinkly and … dick-like.

Natalie went dizzy. She let her waistband snap back. Now that she’d noticed the invader, the sensation couldn’t be ignored. She felt it. She felt her pants pressing against it. Maybe someone who’d had one their whole life would be able to ignore the pressure, having grown used to it, but Natalie had never had something pressed against her cock.

“What the fuck,” Natalie said.

Natalie didn’t have a habit of talking to herself, but considering the circumstances? She felt she could be excused. The words escaped her mouth without her input.

She had a cock.

Her class had given it to her. Her ‘Paladin of Lust’ class, the impossible fourth option.

The gods had given her a cock. As if things hadn’t been strange enough.

Even through her paralyzing confusion, she had one question wrestle to the forefront of her mind:

But why?

~~~ Chapter Five ~~~

Being given a cock presumably meant Natalie was expected to use it. Why else would it be there? And combined with her class name, Paladin of Lust, it seemed an obvious assumption.

But what kind of class expected … that?

Somehow, Natalie steadied her swimming thoughts. There was no reason to invent creative ideas behind her situation; she could find out directly. In the same way as she had inspected her name, class, and stats, a person could inspect their skills.

So. That was what she did. She needed answers.

And … something to distract her from the fleshy, sensitive protrusion tucked between her legs.

Natalie looked inward, then [Inspected] her skills.

***

[Carnal Harvest] - PASSIVE. PROGRESSION 1. Extract carnal energy through {kissing} an aroused target. Harvested energy can be expended through [Empower] and [Advance].

[Empower] - ACTIVE. PROGRESSION 1. Amplify the potency of any ACTIVE or AURA skill by {1.5x}. Expend Carnal Energy equal to mana cost.

[Advance] - ACTIVE. PROGRESSION 1. MAXED. Expend Carnal Energy to progress skills.

[Illusion] - ACTIVE. PROGRESSION 1. Conjure a {mildly} powerful audiovisual mirage to distract or confuse an opponent.

[Heavy Weaponry] - PASSIVE. PROGRESSION 1. Class-bearer is granted a {6-inch} weapon to satisfy and harvest Carnal Energy from chosen targets.

***

If Natalie had thought she’d been stunned before, having her skills inserted into her head redefined the word. She stood there, frozen in surprise.

Where to even start?

Well. The obvious. Once her brain stopped failing to understand the skills detailed to her, it honed in on one in particular. The culprit behind the changes to her biology.

[Heavy Weaponry].

Did it need to have such a humorous name?

The skill that had given her a cock was called ‘heavy weaponry’?

Really?

And … Natalie was far from an expert on this sort of thing, but the things between her legs didn’t seem like ‘heavy weaponry’. It was still soft, so she couldn’t know for sure, but it didn’t seem that big. The skill spelled it out: six inches. Six was about average, Natalie thought. She preferred girls, so she didn’t have any first-hand experience, but still.

Though … Natalie patched two-and-two together. There was an emphasis on the six inches. As in, {6}, the skill had said. Combined with how she had an [Advance] skill, the emphasis must imply that the number would change as she moved the skill to higher ‘progressions’.

Her cock would get bigger as she progressed the skill?

Uh. She wasn’t sure what to think about that.

More practically (and yes, she was shying away from the previous revelation) was how she had a skill that improved other skills. That wasn’t standard. To Natalie’s knowledge, a skill was a skill. It didn’t change as a person leveled up, and certainly couldn’t be progressed separately from a person’s level and stats.

Yet it seemed Natalie herself could, through this … ‘Carnal Energy’.

‘Unique, and potent’, The Bestower had said.

Certainly both of those, from what she’d seen.

Though Natalie’s recently-bestowed cock was, of course, on the forefront of her mind, she tried to focus on the other aspects of her class. The skills detailed to her that weren’t as … prevalently noticeable.

She went in order.

[Carnal Harvest]. As Natalie suspected, sexual activities were, it seemed, to be a staple in her life. The class title of ‘Paladin of Lust’ had made that clear enough, much as she’d been dreading the proof.

Though, only kissing? [Carnal Harvest] specified ‘kissing’ an aroused target would provide her this … ‘Carnal Energy’.

Likely, that was temporary. Kissing had the same emphasis as ‘6’ had had. So as she advanced the skill, she would be able to harvest energy in more … lewd … manners. Intuition told her that she’d receive more energy the more intimate the act was.

Huh.

What would that progression look like? What was a ‘step up’ from kissing? Fondling? Then what? Penetration? Natalie shook her head to clear it. She needed to focus; speculation could come later.

So, sure. She received Carnal Energy by making out with other girls. Whatever.

[Empower] was next. She could increase the potency of her ‘regular skills’ using the energy she gathered?

Though she only had one apparent ‘normal skill’ to do so on, [Illusion]. That would presumably be changing as she leveled up and received more skills. But still. Empowering basic skills through the use of sexual energy. That had the potential of being … strong. Right?

Probably. As she’d been promised, accepting this class. Her skills were strong—that was a given.

Just …

So weird.

[Advance] she’d already pondered. She moved to the next: [Illusion].

A mage-type skill. Natalie had a mage-fighter hybrid class, and so she would need to learn how to use the skill to its fullest potential. That was … sure to be a struggle. Natalie might be a good brawler—enough to qualify for Tenet Delving Academy, no easy task—but her casting abilities were, without a doubt, lacking.

Ignoring that, though, the ability to distract a target by conjuring an illusion? Only an idiot wouldn’t see the tactical use of something like that. And it could ‘level up’. Become stronger, by funneling Carnal Energy to the skill, making the illusion more powerful, more attention-grabbing.

So, that was everything. All five of her first-level skills. At a centimeter-deep level, at least. There was so much to think over, for each ability. But … she didn’t have time.

Her friends and acquaintances—Tinford’s residents—were waiting for her. Natalie was given time to deliberate over her granted class, but they were expecting Natalie to stride out, having received a class fitting to the life she’d lived. A normal class. Some kind of fighter. Which was … kind of right.

Oh, gods. How did she explain?

She wouldn’t. That was her instinctive reaction. She would lie. Or, omit the relevant details. Then, later, if necessary, she would explain herself. But she couldn’t walk out and describe what she’d actually got. Even saying she’d received a mage-type class, she wasn’t up for.

She needed time to digest.

Honestly?

She needed time to talk to Jordan.

Jordan had always been Natalie’s voice of reason.

She could help Natalie figure this out, right?

~~~ Chapter Six ~~~

Natalie was, at least, good at bluster. She strode from the church, her unlocking completed, with a grin on her face, as if nothing had happened—as if she’d received a class she’d been expecting.

As if she didn’t have a cock between her legs.

Her friends—and a decent portion of Tinford—were there, waiting for her. The cheers came out, and Natalie was pressed in by a sea of congratulating bodies. The mood was infectious, piercing even through the strangeness of what she’d been through. For a second, Natalie pretended the farce wasn’t a farce; she let her unlocking be celebrated, as if nothing was amiss.

And really, it deserved celebration, didn’t it? Weird her circumstances might be, but she’d received a powerful class. One even The Bestower had said would be potent, and unique. Natalie didn’t know what to make of it all … but it deserved celebration.

The following minutes passed in a blur. As the ultimate event of the night—and unlockings occurring at midnight, well past when decent folk had gone to bed—the festivities petered off.

It wasn’t more than a half-hour before Natalie had, rather than following her parents home, ended up with Jordan, in her bedroom. That didn’t draw any odd looks, from either her, Natalie’s parents, or anyone else. The two of them had been inseparable since they could string words together. Of course Natalie had ended up in Jordan’s room after her unlocking. Jordan had ended up in Natalie’s room, back when it’d been hers.

“So,” Jordan said, closing her door, and spinning on Natalie. “What happened? What is it?”

Natalie’s plastered-on facade melted. She stared, distraught, at her dark-haired best friend, not having a clue how to even broach the subject. Of course Jordan had seen through her. That, at least, Natalie had expected. She’d been getting odd looks from Jordan since she’d walked through the church’s double doors. Jordan had always been able to see right through her.

“I got a weird class.”

How else would she phrase it?

Jordan wasn’t surprised by the announcement. Because, obviously she’d known something was up, and what else, arriving from the church post-unlocking?

“Spill it.”

Natalie laughed, then rubbed her face.

“I don’t even know how.”

“Start anywhere. What, not a fighter type?”

“It’s, uh. A fighter type.” Then, broaching the least-strange part of her situation, she said, “Fighter-mage mix, looks like.”

Jordan’s eyebrows shot up. “Ah.” Then they furrowed back down. “That isn’t it?”

“Not remotely.”

“I’m waiting.”

“I seriously don’t know where to start.”

Jordan pulled Natalie to the bed, and they sat down. She gave Natalie a serious look. “Start anywhere. We’ll figure it out together. Promise.”

It was hard to explain, really, how the words struck Natalie. She couldn’t articulate why, but they hit her like a thunderbolt. Natalie had to force her gaze away from Jordan’s green eyes. Her heart slammed in her chest, all of a sudden, and it wasn’t even from the imminent conversation—and all the awkwardness, and strangeness, it would entail.

Natalie cleared her throat.

“It’s uh. It’s a sex class.”

The lack of grace was intentional. She’d grasped for a way to stop Jordan from staring at her with those intense, concerned eyes, and landed on the absurd sentence.

It worked. Jordan leaned away, taken aback, and said, “What?”

“It’s a sex class. A, um. Fighter-mage-sex-type class.” Now that Natalie was saying it out loud, she couldn’t help but be amused at the absurdity of everything. “What? Never heard of them?”

“Excuse me?”

Somehow, Jordan didn’t take offense—didn’t become angry that Natalie was inventing things, deflecting. Because she could tell Natalie wasn’t. Seriously, how did this girl have such a good read on her? She knew Natalie was telling the truth, even when what she was saying was ridiculous—impossible.

“Um.” She shrugged. “Yeah. A sex class.” Natalie wasn’t timid, normally; it was a state-of-mind drawn out by her insane situation. But in the presence of Jordan, and having had a half hour—not nearly enough, but something—to digest things, she was regaining some of her confidence. “I guess I should start from the beginning.”

Natalie explained.

The Bestower, the three options she’d been given, then the bizarre fourth. Her acceptance, then her unlocking’s abrupt ending—and the skills she’d received.

And, of course … the last skill.

The weirdest part of everything, somehow.

Her cock.

She hesitated, not sure how to even broach it.

No tactful way, was there?

“And [Heavy Weaponry],” Natalie finally said, after a long pause. “Which, uh, gives me …”

Jordan waited.

“A cock,” she finished. “It, uh, gave me a cock.”

Jordan had absorbed her announcements patiently, with that same concerned, attentive look the whole way through, minimizing her commentary even though she’d visibly had questions. Natalie’s skills were strange, and there were tons of things to talk about for each of them.

Now, though, Jordan stared blankly.

“What?”

“Yeah. It gave me a cock.”

“What?”

“Elder Britt’s always going on about how the gods are capricious, isn’t he?” She shrugged. “Guess they’re having a laugh at my expense.”

What else would she say?

“A … cock?”

“What, need me to prove it?”

The words left her mouth without forethought. The first thing that had popped into her head.

“Uh,” Natalie said. “Not that—I don’t mean—“

“Can I?” Jordan asked.

A long, frozen moment. Jordan blinked, as if her words, too, had escaped without her thinking about them.

“Not that I don’t believe you—?“

“You want to—?”

“Only if—?”

“Really?”

“Uh,” Jordan said. “Just … I believe you … but proof? Would be … nice?”

Natalie wasn’t offended. It was such an insane, mind-bending scenario, wasn’t it? Jordan believed Natalie—but at the same time, proof would help settle things.

“Okay. Uh. Yeah?” Natalie said.

It wasn’t like it was weird, or anything. Jordan was her best friend … and sure, both of them preferred girls over boys, but the two of them had never been interested romantically in one another. They were totally comfortable with each other.

What was showing off her new cock?

Just … part of the explanation.

~~~ Chapter Seven ~~~

Natalie unbuttoned her top pants button, hands shaking. Considering that this wasn’t anything sexual, she didn’t understand why her hands were shaking. She was just providing proof.

Halfway from shuffling her pants down, about to tug her panties to her knees, she froze.

Her cock.

It was hardening.

“Um,” Natalie said.

Why was she getting hard? She wasn’t aroused. This was … strictly practical in nature. She wanted to prove her bizarre circumstances to Jordan.

Jordan’s eyes were locked to it. She saw how Natalie’s panties were bulging upward as her cock—inappropriately, and without reason—filled the fabric out.

Natalie was mortified. How would she explain this? The proof had been given, at least, without even needing to finish undressing. Because what else would be shoving her panties upward, straining the fabric? But getting hard, in front of Jordan. What excuses did she have?”

Jordan gave one for her. “It’s just … a natural reaction,” she said, eyes finally wrenching up to Natalie, as if she’d needed to tear them away. Like before, Natalie was ensnared by Jordan’s understanding eyes. No judgments, there. Jordan had always been a hard girl to fluster. “Keep going? I want to see.”

Natalie hesitated, but did as she was told. Her cock finished filling out, and as much as to fulfill Jordan’s request, she pulled her panties down to get a sense of what she herself was in for. Because while she’d seen herself soft, tucked into her pants, she hadn’t gotten a chance to inspect it in any depth.

Her cock sprung forward, escaping their fabric confines. Six inches of girl cock stood proudly at attention, veiny and throbbing in anticipation—(anticipation? Nothing like that would be happening)—and twitching under Jordan’s wide-eyed appreciation.

Appreciation? No, that wasn’t the right word, even if it looked like it, and Natalie had a good read on Jordan’s expression. It was just fascination. Interest of a reserved sort.

“Wow,” Jordan said. “A-Architect. You … really do.”

“Um.” Natalie had seen her member once before, and had a short time to adjust, so she wasn’t quite as surprised as Jordan … but still, of course, not at ease with the whole situation. “Yeah. I really do. Not making stuff up.”

A cock. Her class had given her a cock.

“Is it …?” Jordan shook her head.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“I was going to say … is it sensitive? It works?”

“Um. I mean. Yeah. I think. I can’t really … ?”

“Go ahead. Test it.” Jordan’s eyes were wide, and she was blushing. “We need to figure out what’s going on. I promised you we would, didn’t I?”

Right. She had. Jordan was just helping her figure out the crazy circumstances of her class-bestowal.

Did her cock work like a normal one? By its realistic sculpting, and pulsing, veiny hardness, Natalie would guess yes. But she couldn’t know for sure, until she’d tested it.

She wrapped a hand around it. She tried to ignore the reality of the situation. That she was sitting there, on Jordan’s bed, with her cock in her hand. She also tried to ignore just how … enraptured Jordan looked. That was just fascination in her eyes, right? Natalie could’ve sworn it was … lust … but that couldn’t be right. Why would Jordan be excited by what she was seeing? Natalie’s cock was thinking for her. Inventing things from her own lust.

Her own lust. She needed to control that. However excited she was by this, it was her cock thinking for her. She and Jordan were just figuring things out. She repeated it to herself like a mantra.

Her hand went up, then down, bunching sensitive flesh around her cock head. Natalie sucked in a breath of air.

“Y-Yeah. It’s, uh. Definitely functional.” The pumping motion had sent electricity up her spine. Was it even more sensitive than normal? Were all cocks like this?

“Huh.” Jordan’s blush was pronounced, now, and she’d watched Natalie’s hand go up and down with a rapt fascination. She shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts, then looked back up at Natalie. “What do you think it means?”

“Means?” It was hard to think with Jordan looking at her like that. And with her cock in her hand.

“That … your class gave it to you. You think you’ll need to … use it?”

Jordan was playing catch-up on things Natalie had already puzzled over.

Except, Jordan made the same realization Natalie had, and probably faster. She continued, “Because you can advance your harvest skill, right? So it goes from … kissing, to more?”

“I think so.”

Jordan stared at her for a long moment. “Then … we should test the theory.” She shuffled across the bed, and before Natalie had the opportunity to register what was happening, Jordan was straddling her lap.

Her lap.

Where her cock was.

Jordan was sitting on her cock. Sure, there were layers of clothing in the way … but still. That pressure on her sensitive member was Jordan’s ass.

“If that’s fine?” Jordan breathed.

What was happening? Where had this come from? She and Jordan weren’t interested in each other like that. They weren’t. Jordan was just experimenting. Helping Natalie figure out her class, and what her harvest ability did.

Either way, Natalie was as caught up in the moment as Jordan. Her hands went to Jordan’s waist, and though she felt like she was on fire, she grinned at her friend. Her nerves thrummed through her, but they emboldened her. Anxiety had always had the opposite effect it should … it spurred her forward, inciting a need to prove something to herself. She didn’t like how Jordan’s proximity was engulfing her, making her stomach squirm. Or the way she was so confused by what was happening. She wanted to take charge.

So her hands dipped even further, then slid behind Jordan, so she had Jordan’s ass in her hands. She tugged the other girl forward, bringing Jordan’s face, and their bodies, scorchingly close. It also had her lower body sliding against Natalie’s cock, too, which almost wrenched a groan from her lips—something she barely forced down.

“Yeah,” Natalie murmured. “Let’s find out.”

Jordan took Natalie’s face in her hands, then closed the last inch.

Soft lips pressed into Natalie’s own. Her mind was on fire, immediately. Natalie wasn’t new to this, but she wasn’t the most experienced, either. And definitely, she’d never experienced this pounding in her chest. Not at this intensity. The fact it was Jordan—her best friend—kissing her erased her thoughts. Natalie leaned forward into the kiss, needing more. She pried open Jordan’s mouth, who eagerly reciprocated.

Somewhere in the back of her head, Natalie recognized the skill ought to work with any sort of kiss, though maybe give less ‘energy’. So why were they getting so worked up? Why were the two of them exploring each other’s mouths so fervently? Sharing saliva and wrestling their tongues?

Jordan’s hips bucked forward, sliding her lower half against Natalie’s cock. This time, heated by the sloppiness of their kiss, she couldn’t stop herself. She groaned into Jordan’s mouth, the friction of Jordan’s pants too intense to ignore.

The two of them froze.

The noise of pleasure had broken the moment.

“Shit, my parents,” Jordan whispered, pulling back and glancing at the doorway. Her cheeks were flushed, and her pupils blown out. She was panting in excitement. So was Natalie. Jordan looked back. “Um.” She shook her head, then climbed off Natalie. “S-Sorry. I got … I got caught up.”

“That’s fair.” Natalie was doing her best to keep her composure. She’d always taken the lead in … just about everything. This might’ve been the first time Jordan had been so assertive. She guessed the insanity of her class had mixed things up. They were both confused, right now. “Sorry about,” Natalie gestured, not saying it directly. The moan. Because it’d been kind of loud. Jordan’s parents probably hadn’t heard, but it had definitely been a reminder of what they were doing, and where.

The scorching heat of the moment left. Natalie tugged up her panties, ignoring the way her cock pulsed, teased then ignored. She buttoned her pants, bringing herself back to modesty. Natalie couldn’t believe what had happened. The kiss, as much as how she’d exposed herself to Jordan … and how Jordan had been rubbing herself against Natalie. Against … her cock.

“But, it, uh, worked?” Jordan asked.

Natalie seized the distraction. It was why they’d done all that, after all. Just experimenting.

She checked.

~~~ Chapter Eight ~~~

***

Carnal Energy: 6

***

Six. Six points of carnal energy, whatever that meant. Unsurprisingly, the skill had worked as it had said it would.

Natalie’s thoughts were foggy after the events of the last five minutes, but she forced herself to focus. It was easier than she thought it would be, because for all that her and Jordan’s brief intimacy was intensely distracting, so was discovering how her class worked. It was something she’d been looking forward to her entire life.

“Yeah,” Natalie said. “It worked. I have … six points?”

She couldn’t help the inflection. Secondary resources weren’t common for a class. Maybe not unheard of. Berserkers, to her knowledge, had a ‘rage’ resource. And a few others had similar. But it was far from standard, so it wasn’t something she could talk about fluidly … especially when the resource was ‘carnal energy’.

“Six points,” Jordan repeated. “And how much can you get done with that?”

“How many skills I can progress?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess I’d have to test it.” Her intuition wasn’t giving her any hints. The skills, either, hadn’t said how much energy was required to move a skill from ‘progression 1’ to ‘progression 2’.

“Or you could use it to empower something,” Jordan added. “Though, that seems a waste, in most situations.”

“Better to focus on the long term,” Natalie agreed.

She found it, to be honest, somewhat amusing how pointedly the two of them were ignoring what had happened. She didn’t protest. How caught up in that experiment the two of them had been … it was best they left it behind. She and Jordan were friends, not more.

“Why waste it on strengthening a skill temporarily, when you could do so permanently?” Natalie added.

Jordan nodded, then hesitated. “Well. I could see some uses. Important fights. Might be worth ‘wasting’ some, to scrape out a critical win.”

That was a given. “But in most situations, save for progression,” Natalie clarified.

They were on the same page. They nodded in agreement.

“I wonder how long the cooldown is,” Natalie said. “On the harvest.”

A pause. Jordan quirked her eyebrow. “Are you asking to go again?”

Natalie smirked. “Only if you want to.”

Jordan read the taunt in her voice. She rolled her eyes. Things seemed to be mostly back to normal … even if Jordan still seemed a bit flustered. Natalie was, too.

“First, figure out how far six points go,” Jordan said. “I’ll help you out, but only if I need to. Because you’re my friend.”

The reminder washed through Natalie. She was, oddly, and for a reason she couldn’t explain, grateful for the confirmation. That their … experiment … had, indeed, been because Jordan wanted to help Natalie figure out her class. Not more.

Sure, she wasn’t blind. They’d gotten worked up. Jordan might’ve been too enthusiastic in the kiss to be wholly ‘practical’. But it was a physical reaction. The same reason Natalie had felt like she was on fire.

She pulled her thoughts back. Testing. Could six points advance a skill? Based on how easy they’d been to earn, Natalie doubted it. But how would it work? Advancing? Would she need the full quantity, all at once? Or could she pour it in, chipping away at the amount needed?

Could she tell how far she’d gotten? Was there a cap to how much energy she could store? Did it decay, over time, incentivizing her to spend it, rather than hoard?

Natalie had been told by friends and family these sorts of questions would crop up. There was simply too many specifics in how a skill might work to reasonably fit into a skill description. Experimentation was the only way to discover the answers. Hence why Jordan had been so quick to help Natalie. Experimentation was normal.

“What should I go for, first?” Natalie asked.

She didn’t think six points would be enough to advance a skill, but either way, it was best to be funneling the energy into what she would want progressed first.

“Hm,” Jordan said. “You said [Advance] is maxed, already?”

“That’s what it says.”

She nodded. “Makes sense there’s a cap. And that some skills start at one, and can’t be advanced. What’s best?” She thought about it. “[Carnal Harvest]?”

“What, not [Heavy Weaponry]?” Natalie asked jokingly.

Jordan paused, and her eyes flicked down to Natalie’s crotch. She looked away, then coughed. “Uh. Yeah. It’s pretty … interesting … that you can make it bigger.”

“You can say weird. It’s weird.”

“It’s weird,” Jordan agreed. “How big, anyway? And why would you want it bigger?”

Why wouldn’t she? If Natalie had to have a cock between her legs, she’d prefer if it was a monster. Was that weird? She hadn’t really had time to digest everything.

“Guess I’ll find out. Eventually.” She appreciated how in-stride Jordan was taking all this. Natalie had always been able to lean on Jordan, a pillar in her life, and that trend was continuing. “But, uh. Yeah. Harvest is probably best. Means more energy, more progression.”

“Though … it won’t just be kissing.”

The two of them paused.

“Not just kissing,” Natalie repeated. “Yeah. I don’t expect you to—obviously I don’t—“

“We’ll figure it out later,” Jordan said, looking away. “And you’re good with girls. So it won’t be. You know. An issue, to find candidates.”

Natalie had never felt awkward talking about her love life before, but now, suddenly, she was. She’d definitely had more success in that front than Jordan had, though Natalie wouldn’t call herself a womanizer. Though, Jordan didn’t seem to care about the idea? Of Natalie hooking up with others. But of course she didn’t. Why would she?

Natalie said, “We’ll figure it out.”

“Go ahead,” Jordan said, brushing past the topic. “Try. Find out.”

Advancing her skill. Right.

She closed her eyes. It might not be necessary, but it felt like the right thing to do. She focused inward, in much the same way as she’d used her [Inspect] skill. Having recently unlocked her class, she didn’t know, fully, what she was doing. She’d heard talk throughout her life about how these things worked, but hearing was different from doing.

Fortunately, it worked like she expected. Focusing her intent, her desire to use her [Advance] skill and funnel the energy she’d gathered toward [Carnal Harvest], some enigmatic force sagged from her: the energy funneled into the skill in the manner she wanted.

There was no direct indicator. Nothing concrete, as an [Inspect] might provide. But, she felt something. A benchmark of sorts. Her [Carnal Harvest] skill filled up, an abstract sense of an orb being filled with pink energy. The liquid sloshed up to the one-third point, and Natalie’s harvested energy ran out.

“Huh,” Natalie said. “Looks like a third?” She couldn’t tell exactly how much, but between fifteen and twenty ‘points’ seemed like the number she’d need to reach. “So it’d take two more … kisses.” The sentence had barreled out of her, before she realized what it might sound like. That Natalie was asking for more.

“Hm,” Jordan said.

A long pause.

“Well,” Jordan said. “Then I guess we should find out if there’s a cooldown.”

~~~ Chapter Nine ~~~ 

There was a cooldown. Natalie and Jordan’s second make-out session didn’t provide further energy.

They did, at least, keep better control of themselves. Jordan hadn’t mounted Natalie in her excitement, and while Natalie had definitely gotten hard again, she wasn’t naked from the waist below, so Jordan was spared from the physical proof of how excited Jordan’s tongue wrestling made her.

Kissing her best friend. It really shouldn’t be so much fun.

Natalie cleared her throat. “Yeah. There’s one. A cooldown.”

“That makes sense.”

Did she sound disappointed, or was Natalie imagining things?

“So,” Natalie said. “Looks like it’ll take time to progress.”

“Not that long,” Jordan said. “Only need two or three more, to get to the next stage. Plus, I bet it’s because it’s me.”

“Huh?”

“It might not be an absolute cooldown. Might be independent to each person.”

“Oh. So, like, every girl has their own?”

Jordan shrugged. “It’s the first thing that came to mind.”

She didn’t sound bothered by that. Though, why would she? It wasn’t like she and Jordan were a thing. What would she care about Natalie and someone else coupling up?

Ugh … these kisses of theirs were definitely leaving Natalie more of a confused mess than they should. She needed to rein herself in. They didn’t mean anything. Natalie didn’t want them to mean anything. She liked what she and Jordan had. Best friends, since forever. She wouldn’t risk that for anything

“Guess I’ll have to figure it out.”

Jordan nodded, still unconcerned. Natalie had a good read on her; she really must not care if Natalie was with someone else. Whether that was because she had open views on relationships, or because she didn’t have feelings for Natalie …

Of course she didn’t have feelings. What was Natalie thinking? Ugh. Kissing another girl had never left her a mess like this. Receiving her class had left her more disoriented than she’d thought. And Jordan’s kisses. Why was she so good at them? Natalie thought Jordan had only had one or two partners. Why was she so good, then?

Pull it together.

“Later, though,” Natalie said. “Uh. So. Letting Tenet know is going to be weird. Hope it’s not a problem.”

“Being a mage hybrid class?” Jordan said.

Natalie nodded; the lewder parts of her class, she just wouldn’t divulge.

“Hm,” Jordan said. “Paladins are more fighters than they’re casters, aren’t they?”

“I guess it depends?” Natalie, like Jordan, had spent plenty of time learning the endless amount of common adventuring classes. But there were too many to know in depth. There were as many classes as there were grains of sand on a beach. Infinite, more less … though maybe not actually. “I think most paladins are more fighter than mage? But even if it’s just a small part of my kit …”

“You’ll figure it out,” Jordan said firmly. “It’s not your strength, but that’s fine. You’ll work through it. If there’s anything you’re good at, it’s persevering.”

For a second, Natalie held Jordan’s serious gaze. The words washed through her, comforting in a way even her parents couldn’t have managed. How did Jordan say something like that with such confidence? Like she knew what she was saying was right. That she wasn’t trying to be comforting, but speaking with total conviction. No doubt in her mind. A foregone result. Natalie would figure out her ill-fitting class, and that was that.

Natalie glanced away. “Yeah. I guess. Thanks.”

“You’ll just have to be extra good at punching people, until then,” Jordan said, bumping shoulders.

Natalie laughed. “I can manage that, at least.”

Jordan smiled, too. A brief silence. “Paladin, though. That’s going to be interesting. Having a patron. Is that how it works?”

“No clue. Probably? Who do you think it is?” Natalie asked.

“Hm.”

Jordan wasn’t especially religious, the same as Natalie, but she absorbed information better than Natalie did. She always seemed to know what was going on, when it came to anything. Even half-zoned out, their weekly congregations at the church left more lingering knowledge in Jordan than it did Natalie. She might know who the ‘goddess of lust’ was.

Jordan had always been a sponge when it came to academics. Natalie might have cheated her way through classes using her, once or twice. She’d determined not to do so at Tenet … not that academics were particularly a focus, there.

“Niemh?” Jordan finally said. “Goddess of love and passion? That seems most likely. Could be others. Ffien, of beauty? Some interpretations have her as an icon of lust. Eyrlis, fertility and agriculture?”

“Eyrlis is Upper Pantheon,” Natalie protested.

“And?”

Natalie paused. She didn’t know where she was going with that. It just seemed absurd for Natalie’s patron to be Upper Pantheon.

“Not that it matters who it is,” Natalie said. “Paladins and gods don’t convene. Not literally.”

Jordan paused. “Well. The gods are silent, but that they did exist at some point seems beyond reproach. So maybe worship is required? That they’d … what, disown you, if you didn’t?” She hesitated. “But probably not. Dunno.”

There was merit to what she was saying … certain records were convinced that deities once roamed and interacted with sapient life … but Natalie wasn’t so sure. Ancient texts were nothing if not unreliable. She didn’t know if she bought into the divine, as blasphemous as it might be to say. Just, there weren’t any recent records of such. Even paladin classes, while holding to certain gods, never spoke to them. And who else, if not a paladin? Or a priestess, she guessed. But the same argument applied.

“Yeah,” Natalie said. “I guess.” It wasn’t the time to get into that.

Jordan collapsed back into her bed, splaying out. “I can’t believe we’ll be heading off to Tenet in a few days. You’re really cutting it close with your birthday.”

“I’ll let my parents know they should’ve been more considerate with their timing,” Natalie said dryly.

Jordan snorted.

A brief pause.

“I guess I should be heading back,” Natalie said. Her parents would be expecting her. They’d known Natalie would hang out with Jordan, briefly, to celebrate, but she still had a curfew, even if it was her unlocking. With how much trouble Natalie got in on a regular basis, a curfew was inevitable. And while she wouldn’t be afraid to break it, and annoy her parents, now wasn’t the night. Might as well keep the peace for the two days left until she shipped off to Tenet.

Plus … she needed time to think. Jordan’s presence was distinctly not putting Natalie at ease, like it normally would. Or, it was, but it also wasn’t. Seeing her laid out across her bed, shirt bunched half way up her stomach … their experimental kisses had Natalie’s thoughts turning in directions they really shouldn’t.

“Ah,” Jordan said. “Right. Okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Tomorrow,” Natalie said. “But yeah, they’re waiting. Should get going. And I’m pretty tired.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Jordan said with a nod, reading Natalie as easily as she always did. Except … not wholly, because it wasn’t just Natalie’s class that had her head spinning. “Try to get some sleep. There’s plenty of time to figure things out.” She sat up, then patted Natalie’s knee. “And you have me, to help. Don’t forget that.”

Natalie didn’t think she could.

~~~ Chapter Ten ~~~ 

“I can’t believe my baby’s all grown up,” Mom wailed, clutching onto Natalie’s arm. “The house'll be so empty. You promise you’ll write? Promise me.”

Natalie rolled her eyes. Mom had always been dramatic … but Natalie guessed if there was ever a time for it, it would be Natalie shipping off to Tenet. Still, it was embarrassing.

“I’ve said it a hundred times, haven’t I?” Natalie extricated herself from her mother’s clinging embrace. “And it’s only a few months till break. I’ll be back in no time.”

“You better be,” Mom said firmly. “And you better take care of yourself. And Jordan and Sofia. I’ve heard so many stories of the Dungeon … promise me you’ll be safe.”

“I’ll be safe,” Natalie said for the millionth time. “It’s definitely not part of the plan to become monster food.”

Mom swatted her shoulder. “Don’t even joke!”

“Sorry.” Natalie adjusted her backpack strap, settling the weight. Her suitcase was set behind her; the two bags were all Natalie would be bringing with her to Tenet. “I’ll be fine. Seriously. Relax.”

In the background, a train whistle pierced the air. Natalie glanced its way, then said, “I should get going.”

Her dad had been standing stoically by, watching Mom make an embarrassment out of the two of them. Despite his calm exterior, Natalie could see the hint of sadness in his eyes, too. Natalie’s train signaling it was time to board, he stepped forward and hugged her goodbye. “We’ll miss you, Nat,” he said gruffly. “You’ll do great things. But keep yourself safe. Go slow and steady. All that matters is you make it back.”

Natalie hugged him. She hadn’t thought she’d get so emotional over this … she’d been waiting to escape Tinford since she was eleven. Her voice wasn’t choked up when she replied, “Like I said, I will.” She pulled away and cleared her throat, glancing to the side. “They’re boarding. Um. Bye, then.”

She waved her parents goodbye, then scooped up her suitcase and departed. A glance over her shoulder, and she saw her parents standing there, arms wrapped around each other’s waists, Mom leaning her head against Dad’s shoulder, watching her go.

Natalie cleared her throat a second time, then focused her attention forward.

They’d needed to travel to Illesa to catch the train. Tinford was too small a town to have a station; even Illesa was barely large enough to justify the routing. Valhaur’s capital city Aradon was three hundred miles to the north. It would be a several hour trip.

Which was insane. Hundreds of miles in five hours. That sort of trip would’ve taken a week or more on foot, assuming good weather and traveling light. The Magitech Insitute was changing the world at a rate hard to comprehend. Though, in a town as small as Tinford, Natalie hadn’t gotten much chance to see their fantastical inventions. She’d only heard of them. Progress came slow to outskirt towns like Tinford.

Natalie would have plenty of opportunity to see how the world was advancing, now. Aradon, and Tenet, would be stuffed full of the Institute’s inventions. Even the train itself was fascinating, unlike anything she’d seen. It was constructed with enormous, complex mechanisms … but more importantly, covered in glyphs, the swooping, arcane symbols responsible for manifesting magical energy into the physical world.

In the engine room, Natalie knew, monster cores were hooked up to fuel the vehicle. Batteries. Monster cores which delvers were responsible for gathering … Natalie’s future career. It was a bit surreal to think about. How many cores, and what quality, did it take to run this mountain of metal?

Natalie glanced at her ticket as she shuffled along with the other boarding passengers. Cabin 18A.

Mom and Dad, along with Jordan’s and Sofia’s parents, had pooled their funds to buy the three of them a private cabin for the trip up to Aradon—a going-away gift. Natalie was flattered, but also, she couldn’t help but feel like it was a waste. So much money … it couldn’t have been easy for them to scrape the funds together, even splitting it three ways. Natalie wouldn’t have minded sitting in the cramped public cabins. Her parents weren’t destitute, but they weren’t well off.

She might be able to change that, if Natalie’s future went well. Delvers earned exceptional money … or, the non-low-level ones. Assuming Natalie didn’t turn into monster food, as she’d joked about to her parents, then by the time she left Tenet in four years, a single delve would be a month of their pay, or more. Wealth was one of the main motivators for why people flocked to the dungeons.

Natalie had an advantage, at least, in that she’d been accepted to Tenet. Some people starting delving without any professional training, or preparation of any sort. Desperation, usually. The mortality rates weren’t bright even for skilled delvers, so for those cases … even less so. Natalie’s chosen profession had a grim reality to it; it didn’t pay so well without reason.

Her parents’ insistence that Natalie keep herself safe had been justified. Especially since they knew Natalie wasn’t the most careful of individuals. They were ecstatic Jordan had qualified along with her. They’d made a few comments about how she’d keep Natalie out of trouble.

Which … Natalie would see about that. Jordan did have a moderating effect on Natalie, but she hadn’t managed to ‘keep Natalie out of trouble’, growing up. Why would it be different now?

Natalie was almost at the front of the line. She looked around, shifting in place as she waited, and caught a glimpse of white hair.

Sofia had always stuck out in a crowd. Her hair, mostly. White wasn’t a common color, down in Valhaur. The culprit was Sofia’s Theliosian blood, the snowy, mountainous nation to the north of Valhaur. Natalie didn’t know the exact circumstances behind how she’d been adopted by the Kipper family.

She was pressed in by her siblings and parents, who were, in much the same way Natalie’s mom had been, wailing over her departure. Natalie didn’t understand how such an annoying, smug girl had a family so bright and cheerful. She stuck out in the mass of brown-hair and tanned skin. Sofia’s hair wasn’t the only thing blindingly white about her … she had the skin of a Theliosian too. Theliosians didn’t tan like Valhaurians; they just burned. Teasing Sofia over it was one of Natalie’s favorite things to do. The fact she had to put on sunscreen to avoid roasting was something she was definitely annoyed by, much as she pretended not to be.

Natalie reached the front of the line, and she turned her attention to the attendant, handing him her ticket.

She boarded.

~~~ Chapter Eleven ~~~

Jordan was already in the cabin. She looked up from her novel—Jordan was always lugging around something to read—saw her, then tucked a bookmark in and set the book to the side.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Natalie returned, shrugging off her backpack and sitting across from Jordan. “This place is roomy.”

“First class. They’re sending us off in style.”

Natalie wrinkled her nose, her earlier thoughts—that she appreciated it, but was a waste of money—flickering into her head. But she didn’t comment. The money had already been spent, and she didn’t want to come off as an ingrate. “Sofia’ll be here, soon,” Natalie said. “Saw her saying bye.”

“Mm.” Jordan seemed amused. “Five hours together. Think you’ll survive?”

“I’ll have to.” But she wasn’t looking forward to it. With luck, they could just ignore each other.

“You know, we’re lucky she qualified, too.”

Natalie raised her eyebrows.

“We are,” Jordan insisted. “You’ve heard the stories. Tenet’s cutthroat. The whole place is a … a whetstone. For delvers. It’s not a friendly place. Having Sofia there, a second ally, someone we can trust … that’s more fortunate than you’re admitting.”

“Sofia. An ally.”

“C’mon, Nat. I know you two are bristly, but we’re in this together.”

“You think she thinks that? Sofia’ll dump us the moment it benefits her.”

Jordan frowned. “You can’t believe that.”

Natalie’s first response—that she did believe that—fizzled up. She sniffed. “Well. Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I think she’ll throw herself on a sword for us.”

“I’m saying she’s an ally,” Jordan said, rolling her eyes. “Not our blood-sworn subordinate. Allies will be useful to have at Tenet.”

“Sure. I guess. But she’s out to make a name for herself, first and foremost.”

“And we aren’t?”

“I mean … not first and foremost. It’s just up there. Obviously you’d come first, if something happened.”

Jordan paused, then glanced away. “Well, yeah.” She cleared her throat. “You too. That’s a given.” She tilted her head, peaking into the hallway. “Ah, she’s here.”

Sofia walked in.

Or, strode in. Sofia had always moved with a certain … arrogance. Some people would call it confidence, but Natalie knew better. Her squared shoulders and lifted chin were intentional; Sofia showcasing, through body language, what she thought of everyone else … and her position relative to them.

She was dressed comfortably, in jeans and a loose, frilly pale blue shirt. That was hardly a rare event, but Natalie had grown used to seeing Sofia in adventuring gear: leather armor, with a weapon at her hip. Usually a rapier. Sofia had always preferred a more elegant style of fighting than Natalie. They were both close-combat fighters, but inside that category, they couldn’t be much different.

Sofia was a short girl, shorter than Natalie by a significant amount, and a bit more than Jordan, who was an average height. Something about the way she held herself didn’t make her seem short, though. She had a presence twice her size.

A distinctly annoying presence. These days, just the sight of her irritated Natalie.

“Natalie. Jordan.” Her words were crisp, deliberately so. Sofia had always been someone who cared too much about appearances. Her neatly trimmed eyebrows, perfect hair, and outfit gave it away. Natalie had always thrown on whatever she had available; she’d never cared whether what she was wearing was fashionable. What kind of adventurer did? “The day’s finally arrived.” Sofia’s piercing blue eyes surveyed the cabin. “I’m glad all three of us made it.”

Natalie snorted. She saw the dig. “Came as a surprise that I did, did it?”

Sofia spared a glance for her, then sat down on the opposite end of Jordan’s bench, next to the window. She tucked her backpack underneath the seat. “Sensitive as always. I was being genuine.”

Another snort.

Jordan gave Natalie a look. Natalie had seen it before; ‘play nice,’ Jordan was saying.

Natalie guessed for the sake of keeping the peace, she’d try. Even if Sofia had been the one to start it. A five hour trip would be miserable if she and Sofia were bickering the whole way. And bickering might be ninety percent of their relationship, but stuck in a confined space, together, it would quickly become a headache for everyone involved.

And there was some truth to what Jordan had been saying. Sofia wasn’t their friend, but the three of them were from Tinford. They’d grown up together; their parents were friends. That counted for something.

The train shuddered, then started to move. Sofia must have been one of the last to board. She’d cut it close.

“So,” Jordan said. “I was wondering if the three of us could talk practicals.”

“Meaning?” Sofia asked.

“Our plans. For Tenet. Are we teaming up?”

“In what regard?”

Jordan shrugged. “Well. You’ve heard the stories. Tenet isn’t all delving and training. There’s cliques. Politics. Seeing how we’re all nobodies, we should stick together.”

“I presumed we would. It needs clarification?”

Jordan gave Natalie a sideways glance—‘See?’ it said. Natalie fake-sneered at her. Sure, whatever. Sofia wasn’t a snake, she was just annoying. Natalie had already admitted that.

“But delving?” Jordan asked. “I realize that’s more than a week away, before Tenet lets us into the dungeon, but tentatively? Assuming we don’t work out something better.”

“With two fighters and a rogue?” Sofia asked.

“It’s not ideal,” Jordan said. “But Nat …” she trailed off, shooting a concerned look Natalie’s way.

Natalie rolled her eyes, then said, “You can tell her.” Natalie hadn’t come clean to the rest of Tinford, but it wasn’t like she would be able to hide it from Sofia. They’d be rubbing shoulders for the next two years.

“Nat’s class isn’t wholly a fighter type,” Jordan said. “She got a paladin class. So, more a versatile tank, than anything.”

Sofia’s eyebrows shot up, and she looked, incredulously, at Natalie.

Natalie crossed her arms, unable to stop herself from getting defensive. “I’ll figure it out, okay? Not my forte, or whatever, but that doesn’t matter.”

“A paladin,” Sofia repeated. “You. A mage hybrid.”

Natalie sneered at her.

“I’m just surprised,” Sofia said. “How did that happen? And why am I just learning it?”

“Because you’re my first confidante, are you?”

“I mean, that you lied. To everyone else. Didn’t you? Why?”

Natalie’s squeezed her crossed arms tighter. Because of this, she didn’t say. Sofia’s incredulous reaction to what everyone would’ve known was an ill-fitting class … it would’ve been mirrored a hundred times over, by other residents of Tinford. Even Mom and Dad, probably.

“I didn’t lie,” Natalie said. She’d simply … omitted relevant details.

“The point is,” Jordan said, interrupting the tension. “That a paladin, a duelist, and a rogue isn’t a horrible composition.”

“It could be worse,” Sofia said coolly, turning to Jordan. “But it’s not ideal.”

“Sometimes we don’t get ideal,” Jordan said. “It’s what we make of things. And again. No hard commitments. But we’ve worked with each other. Know each others styles, habits. That’s important in a team. Maybe more than a perfect composition.”

“Mm,” Sofia said. “I’m still caught up on the paladin thing. What sort of skills did you get?”

The first thing that popped into Natalie’s head was the … less appropriate skills she’d received with her class. But obviously those were staying a secret to everyone but Jordan. If the three of them were working on the assumption their first delves would be together, then Sofia would need to know Natalie’s skills, but only the relevant ones. She’d learn them, regardless, during spars and training.

“An illusion,” Natalie said.

“An illusion?” The raised eyebrows were back. “Not a heal? Or an empowerment?”

“Not a standard paladin, I guess.” Not that a ‘standard paladin’ existed. It was a rather varied class. It depended on the god, or aspect, one received.

“Who’s your patron?” Sofia paused, then huffed. “You. A paladin. With a patron. So ridiculous.”

Natalie agreed, but she took offense, anyway. “That’s none of your business.” Not that Natalie even knew who her patron was. There were a few options for who a ‘goddess of lust’ could be. None were given the title outright, at least, not from what Natalie’s research had shown. It could be any of several … the goddess of love, or fertility, or, in some interpretations, wickedness and sin. Again, it didn’t really matter. The skills she received, she received. Didn’t matter what her patron’s name was.

“I suppose not,” Sofia said. “What else?”

“The illusion’s the important one.” And, unfortunately, the only practical one. It wasn’t the best level-one starting kit. But if Natalie had had something else, like a skill that made her faster, or stronger, it wouldn’t be something she’d need to divulge to Sofia. Teammates were expected to share the general strokes—the key skills they’d be interacting with—but not their entire kit.

Some did, of course. It just wasn’t a hard requirement.

“Hm,” Sofia said. “Either way, an illusion sounds versatile. But you’ll need to practice.”

Natalie bit her tongue on a retort. “Yeah. I will.” Sofia had a way of sounding condescending, even when it wasn’t her intent.

“It’s a shame your unlocking happened so soon to intake day,” Sofia said. “You didn’t have much time to adjust.”

Yeah. That was definitely a problem. Natalie would rather not have been reminded of it. “I’ll figure it out,” Natalie repeated, half a mutter. She’d been experimenting with the skill in the past two days, and not made much progress. She wasn’t, as she’d mentioned, a natural when it came to spell casting.

The solution was obvious. She’d just have to make up for it in other ways.

Other ways.

The … stranger parts of her class. Natalie would need to make the most of them.

~~~ Chapter Twelve ~~~ 

They arrived to Leinevor just past noon. The three of them collected their belongings and set off for Tenet.

Walking through the busy streets of Leinevor was a spectacle. She had never seen anything like the tall, vibrant architecture that packed Valhaur’s capital city. What surprised her most was the sheer density of everything. The buildings weren’t the only thing cram-packed; the people, too, swarmed the streets, milling about their daily lives.

Natalie felt out of place. Even Illesa had seemed like a big city compared to Tinford, but here was a real city. More people streamed through this one street than all of Tinford might hold. It was chaotic. As expected of the most populous city in the country. It was, after all, a civilization built atop a dungeon entrance … one of only thirteen in the world. Of course half the world—or what felt like it—had settled down here.

Fortunately, the throng cleared out as they approached Tenet’s gated entrance. The three of them provided their names, and the guards checked a list then let them through. It wasn’t a high-security set up, just enough to keep Leinevor’s general populace out. The Delving Academy was located deep in the city, not more than a ten minute walk from the dungeon entrance.

The guards provided directions, though they were redundant considering the signage everywhere. Today was intake day, and Natalie, Sofia, and Jordan weren’t the only ones lugging around backpacks and suitcases, seeking out their varying destinations. The non-newbies were obvious, compared to the regulars, the delvers who’d completed one or more semesters already. Natalie noted a mixture of expressions sent their way: amusement, annoyance, sometimes disdain. Natalie gave dirty looks right back to those who provided the last. She’d never been a person to ignore that sort of thing.

Which might cause problems for her, making the wrong enemies. While she, Sofia, and Jordan were nobodies, that wasn’t usually the case for a place like Tenet. The Delving Academy was as old as the dirt it was built atop. It’d existed for thousands of years … because there’d always been need to train delvers. The dungeon had provided for the citizens of Valhaur—the world—since forever. Its student body, therefore, was similarly prestigious.

And sure, the Academy might not always have been these tall, gleaming stonebrick buildings, with well-maintained greenery and elegant magitech lamps scattering the pathways across the campus, but it’d existed in lesser forms. Like Leinevor itself, it’d grown and grown, until it was one of the premier fixtures on the continent.

It was intimidating. Natalie still couldn’t fully believe she’d qualified … that all three of them had. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Natalie had grown up hearing about how talented she was, but still. Tenet was for … prodigies might be too strong of a word. But only the best. That all three of them—from the middle of nowhere—had been accepted really was an unusual thing.

The signs, and the guards’ directions, led them to an in-processing building. There, Natalie was separated from Jordan and Sofia as the three of them went about their administrative duties. Eventually, Nataliem, having properly registered with Tenet and documented her arrival—and received an I.D. that verified she was permitted on campus—set off to the dormitories.

Dormitories was the wrong word. First-semester students started out in barracks—communal living areas that housed twenty to forty Tenet students each. That was obviously a lot of bodies to pack into a space, no matter how big … and the barracks weren’t big. Students’ introductions to Tenet were intentionally uncomfortable. All the more to encourage them to escape, using the token system. Incentives. Tenet was all about incentives, urging aspirational delvers to work harder, out-pace their peers … earn more, compete.

A whetstone, Jordan had called the school.

Communal living, though. A few days ago—before her unlocking—Natalie hadn’t been stressed by the idea at all. She wouldn’t call herself shy, or uneasy around large groups of people. She’d figured it would be annoying, definitely, but not anxiety-inducing—not something she was worried about. A temporary problem. She’d be able to move out soon enough, and really, what would she care if other people saw her half-dressed or naked as she went about her morning routine?

Obviously, a new problem had presented itself, there. The changes to her biology that had come with her class. With that development taken into account, the idea of living with dozens of other girls in a cramped, communal space was far more daunting. Because even if she was careful to not reveal her secret, she might be found out, anyway.

By accident. Say, in the morning. When she pitched a tent, completely unwillingly … which Natalie had discovered she did, without fail. The new equipment between her legs wasn’t considerate in the slightest.

With a blanket covering her, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem, but if she threw the covers off at night? Natalie might give herself away. Which wouldn’t be the end of the world, but would introduce some questions—from a variety of sources—that Natalie would simply rather not answer. The odd, lewd details to her class, she’d prefer if nobody discovered besides Jordan.

Not to mention the embarrassment. Getting caught with morning wood would have plenty of that, just by its own.

Maybe it was happening each morning because she wasn’t taking care of it. For the past several days leading up to ship-off day, she’d been pretending it didn’t exist. Jordan, too, hadn’t brought it up much … though they’d been kissing once a day, harvesting energy. That was its own mess. Natalie didn’t let her thoughts linger on how much she liked those kisses.

What a situation to be in, right? Natalie hadn’t come to terms with it. In the frenzy of the past two days, preparing to ship off for Tenet, and in the wake of her unexpected, intimate interactions with Jordan, Natalie had pushed the rather important thing between her legs to the back of her mind.

She’d have to come to terms with it, eventually. Both mentally, and practically speaking. Just, she wasn’t sure where to begin … and pretending nothing had happened was so much easier.

Its introduction, too, had made her eyes start snagging to the curves of women with even more frequency than they had before—and Natalie had never been the most reserved girl in the first place. Though, it wasn’t something impossible to put out of mind. She could ignore the inappropriate thoughts. And thankfully, it wasn’t so big it couldn’t be physically hidden, either. Loose pants had done wonders for her. Thankfully, a relaxed style had already been her standard when it came to fashion.

Taking a deep breath, ready to meet her twenty-to-forty temporary roommates, Natalie walked into squat, rectangular building that served as the first-year’s barracks.

~~~ Chapter Thirteen ~~~

‘First-year barracks’ wasn’t a wholly correct way to describe the accommodations. Technically, there weren’t any policies mandating that a person bought their way out of the shared living space, not that Natalie knew of. So there could be second-years, or fourth, for that matter.

But any reasonable person would get out of the barracks as soon as possible. Even the most long-suffering didn’t want to be crammed in with dozens of other students, especially in what wasn’t so much a room as a long hall lined shoulder-to-shoulder with beds and lockers.

Natalie had arrived late, relatively speaking. Tinford was in the far south of Valhaur, and the five-hour train-ride was longer than the vast majority of students had needed to travel.

Walking slowly in, wearing her backpack and lugging her suitcase in one hand, Natalie scanned her surroundings, looking for Jordan. There were no guarantees they’d be roomed together. Considering the size of the barracks, though, there weren’t horrible odds. Natalie didn’t have an idea how big Tenet’s yearly student-intake was, but surely not more than a few hundred.

Which still meant roughly eight barracks of this size. So not great odds, either. But random chance might bless them. Natalie tried not to get her hopes up, because she doubted they’d land the one-in-eight dice toss. She’d never be so lucky.

Peering around, hopes deflating, she didn’t see Jordan’s black hair tied up in a bun. And even worse than that … something else caught her eye.

Hair, of a more distinct, recognizable quality.

White hair.

Natalie barely didn’t groan. Sofia. Of course she’d gotten placed in Sofia’s barracks.

And, as Natalie finished looking around the long hall with growing dread, she realized something else. All of the beds were claimed. Not all had their occupants present, but all were claimed. Literally. Every single one, besides a single. Natalie was the last of the barracks suite to arrive—and Sofia had been second to last.

And guess where the only open bed was?

Natalie couldn’t quite fight off the groan, understanding the fate that had befallen her. The nearest student—a short girl with brown hair—gave her an odd look, which forced Natalie to compose herself. It was best she didn’t earn a reputation for eccentricity that fast after arriving.

The event was organic, not coincidence. As the last to arrive because of their long trip from Tinford, she and Sofia had received the two least-desired beds of the grouping—the ones in the middle of the rows, and directly beneath the cooling glyphs engraved into the ceiling. Not only would the hum of magic be the most audible there, she and Sofia would be getting blasted with cold air whenever they were active. Considering they were in a Valhaurian summer … pretty often. Not to mention the foot traffic, being sandwiched in by everyone.

Natalie sighed. Honestly, all of the above didn’t bother her. She’d been braced for misery, coming to Tenet. Hardship was one of the appeals, even. She was starting her future as a delver … and delvers didn’t have easy lives. This was more or less what she’d expected.

But why Sofia?

Well. Looking on the bright side, it wasn’t like Natalie would be at the barracks often. She’d be out training, studying, or otherwise being productive. With forty roommates, she doubted anyone would be spending much time here, besides for sleeping.

As Natalie walked down the long barracks hall, she took in the living space in greater detail. There was an economy of design in the layout … because how else would they cram everyone shoulder-to-shoulder?

Each student had a slightly elevated bed (where underneath, it seemed, shoes were going), a locker, and a chest at the foot of their bed. Not much storage space, hence Natalie’s—and everyone else’s—limited luggage. The locker, one of which Natalie could see inside as she walked toward her inevitable fate, was fairly deep, and had a rod plus provided hangers to hang clothes from. There was a mirror inside, and a glyph for producing light. Also, several drawers of varying sizes. All in all, about what she’d expected. Simple accommodations.

The chest probably wasn’t worth mentioning. There were locks and keys for each. It was where anything valuable would go. Though, Natalie doubted there were many thieves at Tenet. Of the mundane sort, she meant … there might be a few [Thieves] of various sorts.

As she’d already mused over, only a tiny portion of their studentbase were in Natalie, Jordan, and Sofia’s situation … which was to say, not obscenely rich. The kinds of people qualifying usually had generational wealth—and training—behind them, helping them reach this point. Why would they steal anything?

But still. A lockbox was nice to have, for peace of mind. Even if she didn’t have anything valuable monetarily, she had sentimental belongings whose safety she’d want ensured.

The bed was tiny, though enough to fit a single person comfortably. The sheets were made with crisp edges. Natalie wondered how long that would last—the sharp, organized condition of everything here. Sure, Tenet had policies for keeping their living spaces in good condition, but they weren’t, to her knowledge, overly strict.

The similarities to a military academy were visible, but Tenet wasn’t such, not actually. She might be required to make her bed in the morning, but there wouldn’t be drills, or instructors inspecting for the smallest infraction. That wasn’t, ultimately, what Tenet was here to encourage. Conformity wasn’t the goal. Conformity was the opposite of the goal. They wanted students who stood out as starkly as possible.

Despite the cramped layout, the quality of everything was outstanding. The barracks sparkled, floor to ceiling. There wasn’t a single scuff-mark or patch of discolored paint. Tenet was the premier training academy in all of Valhaur … and likely in the top five for the world. Funding wasn’t a problem. How could it be? The students who left this campus, having graduated, were a collection of professionals who powered a staggering amount of the Valhaurian economy just by themselves. Monster cores grew in strength exponentially, and so the strongest adventurers hoisted society up on their shoulders, essentially, with the loot they dragged back from a delve. And a decent portion of that esteemed echelon of society came from Tenet.

Low- and mid-rank adventurers were just … kind of there. Trying to reach those heights. Certainly useful, but a mid-rank monster core provided a sliver of a fraction of what a high-rank core did.

Tenet’s goal was to create high-rankers. The best. Hence, their exacting standards, and the systems they’d designed, carefully, to force competition—and thus growth.

Like being stuck in a shitty, cramped barracks, and having to buy your way out through their token system. Tokens, which were earned in a variety of ways … but most notably, the obvious. Delving.

Or academic excellence. And academic excellence at a delving academy meant, most prominently, combat prowess. So more or less the same thing.

Sofia had her suitcase laid out across her bed, and she was unpacking her belongings into her locker.

Natalie arrived to her bed. Sofia looked up and saw her.

She grimaced.

“Preaching to the choir, Sofia,” Natalie said sourly, thumping her own suitcase onto the only open bed. “Preaching to the choir.”

~~~ Chapter Fourteen ~~~

“Well,” Sofia said. “I suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

“Speak for yourself,” Natalie muttered.

“We’ve already determined we’d be moving in together. So while unpleasant, it’s hardly something we weren’t prepared for.”

Their future as a potential team hadn’t been the only thing Jordan had prompted the three of them to talk about on their way to Tenet. The token system, too, they’d discussed … or more accurately, pooling their resources to get out of the barracks. They intended to move in together.

Natalie supposed she was fortunate the Tenet campus didn’t function on ‘real currency’, and that just about everything—including niceties, and delving loot both, or anything else—functioned on their proprietary ‘tokens’. Because it meant she wasn’t behind the rest of the campus when it came to finances. They were all starting on even footing.

Which, Natalie had to assume was a bit of a shock to some of them, who’d grown up with silver spoons and droves of servants.

“That would’ve been when we had our own rooms,” Natalie said. “I was supposed to be free from you, in the barracks.”

The one redeeming quality of their starting accommodations.

“Hm,” Sofia said. “Yes. Well. We can’t always get what we want.” She returned to unpacking.

Natalie took the hint; they could ignore each other. If they managed that, then maybe this wouldn’t be the torture Natalie thought it would be.

As she went about the monotonous task of unpacking, she stole glances—subtly, as to not be caught staring—at the rest of her so-called roommates. Barracks-mates?

Despite the number of beds, less than half—maybe around a third—had their occupant nearby. Most people had come in, unpacked, then left to handle the rest of their in-processing duties, or otherwise to explore campus, shower, eat, or whatever else.

It was a colorful collection of people. Not only did Tenet draw applicants from all across the country—and plenty from neighboring, allied countries too—but fashion this far north was different from what Natalie knew. Or maybe that was the fault of Natalie’s upbringing in a rural area.

Either way, dyed hair hadn’t been common back home, as it was here. The girls with neon shades—pink, blue, green, violet—weren’t the majority, but maybe a third had the bright, eye-catching colors. Several had mixtures of the bright hues. Some only had streaks, rather than dying themselves entirely.

Natalie was a fan. Of the hair, at least. Not much the rest of typical northern Valhaurian fashion, which was, like the hair, bright and attention grabbing … but too much so.

A few girls in particular, Natalie’s attention gravitated to. She continued to unpack, stealing glances. Some of them might be future classmates, and were, at a minimum, competition … or potential delving teammates. Tenet’s years were too large to know everyone individually, but making connections would be important. Natalie didn’t intend to seclude herself.

The first girl Natalie’s eyes stuck to had short black hair down to her shoulders, streaked with a single bright, noticeable lock of blue. She was talking animatedly with someone else—a blonde woman wearing her hair in a ponytail, who was a tenth as animated as her talking partner. She seemed to be tolerating the conversation. Her responses, from Natalie’s subtle glances, seemed to be polite smiles and minimal prompts. The two girls were three beds to Natalie’s left, and on the opposite side of the hall.

Another woman caught her eye: someone whose Natalie’s attention stuck to because of her amused expression. She was leaned against her locker, arms crossed, and watching the conversation of the two girls Natalie had just looked at. She had long, straight red hair—a bit lighter than Natalie’s own red hair—and piercing green eyes.

There was something rude about her quirked eyebrow … as if she’d noticed the blonde woman’s lack of enthusiasm and was smirking at how the girl with the blue streak hadn’t picked it up, and had thus trapped the two of them into a one-sided conversation.

Natalie frowned. The smirk reminded her of Sofia. Though, for all Sofia was smug and annoying, she wouldn’t look at someone trying to make a friend with curled, amused lips. Natalie didn’t like her, whoever she was. Though maybe she was making too many assumption about a vaguely amused smirk. Maybe she was making too many assumptions about everything—the blonde girl, in particular, who could be enjoying the conversation. Hell, maybe the two girls talking knew each other, and were friends already.

Natalie continued to look around. Her attention snagged to a girl seated on the last bed, on the far end of the hall. She was seated cross-legged, scanning the room … but unlike Natalie, with no subtlety. Natalie couldn’t get a good look, or she’d be caught—the girl was watching the room like a hawk.

But even a glance was enough to make out the basics. The girl had short black hair, and her shoulders were hunched forward. Her face was scarred, and not in any small way … even from the distance, Natalie saw the patchwork of white scratches. Her bangs cascaded down her face, almost hiding her eyes.

Something about her posture said ‘harried’ … like she didn’t want to be here. Or maybe not ‘here’, as in Tenet, but in a public living space, definitely. She was uncomfortable with people. Natalie didn’t know the girl—obviously—but she could discern that with a quick look. Anyone could. Tenet’s required living conditions sat worse with others than some … and for this black-haired girl, she was on the top of that list.

So. Like Natalie said. A colorful collection of people, as expected of Tenet; considering their prestigious requirements, almost everyone had an interesting story, she bet. It wasn’t enough just to be rich to make it here. Though … there was a limit to that statement, probably. She was sure the obscenely wealthy found ways to sneak in unfitting candidates. But it didn’t really matter. The skilled were who would be recognized.

Natalie wondered if, after unpacking, she ought to wander the hall and get some names, make introductions. But she still had a lot of in-processing tasks to handle, so maybe not. Get the practical stuff done, first.

~~~ Chapter Fifteen ~~~

All things considered, Natalie’s first morning at Tenet started off well.

Which was to say, she didn’t wake up with her blanket thrown off, and her cock straining her pajama bottoms, proudly showcasing her secret to anybody walking by.

She’d set her alarm early, just in case. Unreasonably early. Early enough that even she, a habitual morning person, cracked her eyes open and thought, good gods, what time is it?

She tapped the alarm glyph, shutting off the vibrating motion that had woken her, but which had spared her many roommates. It was an interesting piece of magic, and it’d taken more minutes than she was willing to admit figuring out how to use it, and set a time for it to go off. The one she had back home was simpler, and used noise … which was the standard, far as she knew, but in a barracks, the vibrating glyph was the only way to wake just yourself, without dragging everyone nearby into your schedule.

Now, Natalie might not have thrown her covers off, but that wasn’t to say she’d been spared from her biology entirely.

Groggily coming into awareness, Natalie sat up in bed, her rock-hard cock rubbing around the confines of her pants. It was digging down her leg and toward her knee. Even in the worst case, it didn’t stick straight up, usually at an angle … although admittedly enough to give her away, hence her concerns.

She looked around to make sure she was the only one awake. There were one or two empty beds. Natalie was briefly astounded, and impressed, that there were maniacs who had woken up even earlier than her. Why? It would be hours before the day’s official schedule began. Natalie was only awake because she had to be.

For more than one reason, besides wanting to spare herself the embarrassment of being caught with a boner early in the morning. There was another event just as dangerous, which would also happen each morning … and probably each night, too, considering how sweaty a delver-in-training’s routine was.

Showers.

Public showers, even worse.

Natalie had scoped the bathroom out yesterday, and as she’d hoped, the showers at least had dividers, and pull-curtains. She didn’t have to let everything hang free. If it had been that way … Natalie didn’t know what she would have done.

But still. Risky. The showers might not be wholly open, but they were still very much not privacy-oriented. Natalie could probably get away with not being naked in her fellow student’s company, but only if she was careful, and earned a reputation for being embarrassed to show her body.

All things considered, hardly an unusual thing … nobody should think twice of Natalie’s modest tendencies.

But back to her current situation: the distinctly noticeable bulge in her pajama pants. Six inches wasn’t a lot, but it wasn’t small, either. And with how poundingly at-attention it was, it made its presence known.

Why did this thing have to be so needy? She really, really wished she could just ignore it.

Which wouldn’t be something she could do forever, unfortunately. Her class had given it to her for a reason. But, ugh … later. She’d figure it out later.

She sat in bed, blinking blearily as she woke up, and letting her erection soften. It took a while. Finally, she got out of bed, collected her outfit for the day, and a towel, slipped on her shower-shoes (a highly suggested item on the provided preparation-for-Tenet shopping list), then set off for the public showers.

As with the barracks, the showers were an efficient public space, though split into smaller subsections of eight shower-stalls each. There was a bench and row of lockers across from the shower-blocks, and a pair of sinks closer to the entrance.

This early in the morning, Natalie had figured she’d be one of the only—if not the only—girls here. Unfortunately, that turned out wrong. The first block Natalie passed had someone inside.

A woman stood there, naked, digging into her locker … presumably having just dried herself off and starting to dress. Natalie’s eyes widened in surprise. She froze to the spot, taking the sight in, despite knowing she shouldn’t.

She was gorgeous. Sculpted … the perfect mixture of soft curves and hard muscles, as expected from an aspirant delver. Her arms and legs were a deep shade of bronze, tanned from long days in the sun, and several shades lighter on her body, nearly pale where her underwear would’ve covered. She had long, wavy auburn hair that cascaded to the small of her back.

And the parts that had Natalie frozen to the spot … her breasts, full and round, with perky nipples. Faced toward the locker, in profile, Natalie could only make them out from the side, but they were stunning, even then. And her ass. Ample, full, the perfect shape. Natalie’s heart quickened, her skin heating up as her gaze wandered the woman’s body. She was struck with a paralyzing need to touch her, to feel her, to taste her.

Natalie tore her eyes away. She scurried away.

What was she doing? She couldn’t just stand there and ogle a naked girl in the showers. What was wrong with her? Just … the sight had hit her like a lightning bolt.

And, unfortunately, provoked something. Her pajama bottoms were stiffening.

Natalie picked up the pace. She swerved into the first empty block of shower-stalls and lockers. No patter of water indicated there were occupants besides her. Undressing in a frenzy—before she found company, and her secret was revealed—she stripped off her pajamas and stuffed them into a locker. She wrapped a towel around her waist, then scooped up her shower supplies and change of clothes. Her erection poked out through the towel, making things rather obvious. Natalie fled into the stall, finding privacy. She sighed in relief, then tossed her towel and change of clothes over the stall’s ledge.

This is gonna get way more complicated in the evening, she internally lamented. There was no ‘waking up early’ to solve the problem, there. But skipping showers, and going to sleep gross, wasn’t an option either.

She turned the water on and let it patter to the floor, standing to the side and avoiding its freezing touch. The heating glyphs took a second to get the water to a reasonable temperature.

As she waited, she stared down at her cock. It was as angry as usual. That was the word that always came to mind. Thick, veiny, and twitching with need, her cock was distinctly unhappy that Natalie had been ignoring it the past few days. It wanted to be relieved. As maybe Natalie’s reaction to the girl getting dressed had shown. It’d sprung up, and her thoughts turned heated, way too easily.

There’d been a pressure building, growing each day, as Natalie refused to address the addition to her body. Maybe that needed to change. This situation was untenable. If Natalie was springing an erection this easily, then she’d give herself away for sure. During the actual school-day, or … some other time. It didn’t matter when.

So. Maybe it was time to face the facts. Natalie needed to take care of it.

She swallowed, then glanced backward at the shower curtains. They were obviously still closed. Then, she strained her ears … but no one had entered. Just Natalie, alone in her shower stall.

Well, Natalie thought, turning back forward, and admiring her veiny appendage. She might as well get to it.

It was something she’d been putting off too long.

~~~ Chapter Sixteen ~~~

Natalie wrapped a hand around her cock.

The pressure forced a breathless exhalation from her lips. It was the first time since her and Jordan's confused intimacy that Natalie had paid any attention to it. Even more than then—which had already been overwhelming—having a hand around her cock whited her mind out. It was amazing. And she hadn't even stroked it.

Hot water pounded down into the tiled floor. Was this ... appropriate? Should Natalie be doing this? Jerking off, for the first time, in the public showers?

Where else would she? It was something she needed to take care of. How quickly she'd gotten hard sneaking a peak at that other girl had proved it.

And ... she didn't think she could've stopped herself if she wanted to. Three days of ignoring the needy, angry thing between her legs had been a monumental task. Now, given a reason, Natalie's defenses crumbled.

Or, it hadn't been defenses. But nervousness. The strangeness of everything had made her shy away. But now, her reservations went ignored, placed to secondary importance in face of the amazing pressure her hand was providing.

Natalie stroked up and down, once, bunching skin as her grip traveled her length.

She moaned softly. Her eyes closed, and her head fell back. It was a good thing she was alone, and the showers empty. She had some time to herself. To explore, without being caught. She'd have to be quiet, still, and pay attention ... but she was mostly safe.

Her free hand went up, squeezing her breast. Another stroke of her cock. Her hips bucked in satisfaction, slapping her hand to the base of her shaft.

A whimper escaped her. It felt so good. It was so different from pleasuring herself how she always had before. Was it the novelty? Or did cocks just feel better? More immediately gratifying, with less need for build-up? That definitely seemed possible. Lust had plagued her much more intensely the past few days than ever before. Was it her class? Or her cock?

It didn't matter. Natalie's mouth fell open and she started to pant. Her hips picked up speed, moving in rhythm with her hand. She jerked herself off eagerly, basking in the sensation.

What would it be like? To use it for real?

That auburn-haired girl she'd seen, with the perfect ass. What if Natalie had a few moments alone with her? What would she feel like, her pussy, or mouth, wrapped around Natalie?

Her breathing picked up as she fell into the fantasy. It wasn't even a conscious decision. Giving in after such a long period of neglect meant Natalie's lust took over completely.

She imagined having her cock enveloped by pouty lips, with bright brown eyes looking up at her. A tongue, licking its way along her shaft. The suction her wet mouth would provide. Natalie's hand jerked away, something foreign building in her stomach. It was familiar ... but not. Hot, clenching, overwhelming.

Natalie's fantasy deepened.

She imagined the girl splayed out on a bed beneath her, Natalie lining her cock up. She imagined pushing inside the girl slowly, feeling her tight insides wrap around her. Pushing deeper until she bottomed out. Then starting to move. Picking up speed. Feeling every inch of the girl, writhing under her thrusts. The noises she’d make. The moans and whines of pleasure, like Natalie was making now, escaping in whimpers as she tried to be quiet.

Her hands squeezed her breast, again, roughly this time. She pinched her nipple as her hand continued pleasuring her length.

This was what she had needed. She hadn't even realized how badly until this moment. The relief was all-consuming. Natalie couldn’t think.

She slapped her hips into the girl's lower half, her cock being coaxed by warm, slippery walls. Loud slaps of flesh echoed in her mind. The girl cried out in pleasure, and Natalie picked up speed. She pounded harder and harder.

The hot, tight feeling in her stomach grew until she couldn't fight it. Her body tensed, and she bit down on her lip, trying to stifle the whimpers.

She came undone. Her hips bucked forward, her climax arriving. Natalie's hand clamped over her mouth as she cried out in pleasure, no longer able to stop the noises with just willpower. The heat rushed through her veins, and she shook like a leaf, quivering in place. Every muscle locked as wave after wave overtook her. Orgasmic euphoria rolled across her body and mind, and Natalie pumped away, urging it higher and higher.

She milked her cock out. Thick ropes of cum shot forth, splattering against the shower wall. Spasms racked her frame for almost a full minute as more and more sticky white strings flew from her length. Natalie watched in a melting haze, fascinated at the sensation, and the sight, but only somewhere far behind the burning euphoria.

Finally, she collapsed backwards into the wall, gasping for breath, barely remaining standing. Her cock softened as she panted and came down. The shower stall was steamy now; how long had that taken? The hand clamped roughly across her mouth fell to her side.

And how loud had she been?

Gods, she hadn't been heard, right?

She almost couldn't find it in herself to care. That had been ... amazing. Insane. Mind-erasing. There weren't words to describe it. Was it because she'd ignored it for three days? Was it because it had been her first time? Surely every finish wouldn't be that explosive of a high.

And that had only been her jerking herself off. What would it be like, for real? Plunging herself into an eager girl, losing herself in their moans and mutual sticky pleasures?

Natalie swallowed.

She strained her ears, but the only noise was the water pattering down. Nobody had entered her shower-block. So she was in the clear. But she could've not been, just as easily. Someone could’ve heard her if they’d entered.

What a way to set a reputation. Masturbating in the showers, on her first day. Sure, they wouldn't know exactly how Nataile'd been pleasuring herself, but would it have mattered? Pussy or cock, still about the most embarrassing thing she could imagine.

Natalie stared at the sticky string coating the tile walls.

And that, too. Architect. She'd been so lost in the moment.

Well, either way, time to clean up. Both herself, and her ... enthusiastic paint-job.

Why had it felt so good?

~~~ End Sixteen Chapter Preview ~~~

~~~ Author Notes ~~~

Thanks for reading! As I mentioned earlier, my goal is to burrow into a niche, 'futa litrpg'. Ascent is the smuttier story, though, and Dalliances is intended to be the plottier one ... if still clearly smut at times.

What do you think? Is it ready for posting? Is the summary good enough to grab? The cover picture? Any insight helps.