This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder than Expected (A Futa LitRPG)

3.05 - An Accident?

The long trip up Treyhull's titanic stairway, carved into the center of one of the jungle-realm's enormous trees, sucked as much as the first time, but at least it heralded their return, and a relaxing—hopefully—two week break.

Apparently, there were elevators, or magical equivalents, but however rich Zoey suspected Rosalie to be, she was surprisingly miserly; they took the stairs rather than the easier, more expensive, way up.

They said their good-byes to the guide at the Last of the Forest's guildhall. Rosalie paid the woman's fee, then some extra as a standard-expectation tip, and she parted without fanfare. Zoey briefly wondered whether she'd be resting in the city for the night before heading back out, or whether the golem woman would returning to her snowy outpost without break. She did seem unruffled despite their trip, and her stoic nature gave Zoey the impression she'd chosen her career because she liked the long hours of silent trudging.

From there, they split up, to Zoey's slight disappointment. Rosalie headed off with their mundane equipment, intending to drop it off with Anja. Zoey and Delta, on the other hand, were tasked to handle the other half: the identification of lewd items through their other contact, Fe.

The store was unusually empty. There were neither patrons, nor Fe herself standing behind the counter. Slow day, Zoey guessed, since it was definitely open. She and Delta peered down the various aisles, and around the store, seeking the owner out.

They found Fe bent over—in a highly compromising position—in the corner of the shop, apparently trying to get to a hard-to-reach spot at the back of a shelf. Cleaning? She seemed to be wiping it down, but it was hard to tell for sure. Items were piled on the ground, to be re-stocked shortly. At a guess, Fe had taken advantage of the slow day to get some freshening up done.

Compromising. Zoey might've understated it. Fe was wearing a short skirt today, and—don't ask her how—it seemed to have flipped up and bunched at the top of her lower back as she vigorously cleaned away the deep recesses of the shelf. Her enthusiastic motions ... made the sight even more difficult to ignore. Her ass laid on plain display, pale blue panties squeezing and shaping her cheeks in an agonizingly amazing way, and her plush curves bounced with the rough back-and-forth scrubbing movements.

Delta, of course, was delighted—she shot Zoey a grin with raised eyebrows. She opened her mouth to say something—and Zoey could imagine a dozen taunts, or lewd comments she might give—but she paused, then thought better of it. Delta might have some issues with keeping her mouth under control, but she wouldn't outright harass a stranger. However ... amazing ... the sight they'd stumbled on, Fe wasn't part of their group, and unasked-for comments about her body wasn't something socially permissible, even to Delta's filter-lacking tendencies.

Zoey took one relief in the situation, at least. After so much degeneracy and lewdness, a bent-over girl with her panties showing wasn't quite such an appealing site that Zoey couldn't keep herself settled. With the Panties of Holding still not identified and tested—the reason they were here—she still had to keep her reactions under control, unless she wanted a fourteen-inch pillar in her pants becoming even more noticeable than it was normally. And seeing how Fe was a professional contact of theirs, Zoey needed to keep things friendly.

Though, still a close thing. Not an easy task to keep calm. Fe really did ... have a lot going on. And she was seriously working away at the tough stain she'd run into.

Zoey cleared her throat. "Uh, Fe?"

The plush sheep-girl startled, then banged her head against the upper shelf—she'd been deep between them, hence her compromised, bent-over position—in surprise.

"Ow!"

"Are you—!"

Fe staggered out from between the shelves, rubbing her head. Her skirt corrected itself, partially, flipping back down. Fe finished settling it, tugging and smoothing it out, though passively, an idle correction, as if she hadn't realized what had happened, or that she'd fixed it.