2.14 Rosalie, Rising Up to the Challenge

2.14 Rosalie, Rising Up to the Challenge

Rosalie drowsily drifted to consciousness, and the first thing she was met with on opening her eyes was her own face.

For a moment, the sight didn’t register. Her brain blanked out. Had a mirror been placed into bed with her, leaned over so that when she blinked awake, it was the first thing she’d see? But no, that didn’t make sense. The position Rosalie was laying down with didn’t match the mirror.

She jerked up in bed, and the mirror-image didn’t follow.

“Mmm?” Not-Rosalie said, before scrambling up. “What? Shit. What happened?”

Rosalie had been trained for the bizarre situations that a shard could thrust on a person since birth. Her brain faltered only for that brief, confusing moment of just-waking-up haze before it had grinded back to full capacity. She analyzed her situation with a Wayfarer’s critical eye—and calm.

‘What? Shit. What happened?’ Those weren’t the instinctive words that would burst from Rosalie. Too crude. Too uncomposed.

Rosalie looked down at herself, and the sight clicked the last piece of the puzzle.

“It seems,” Rosalie said to Delta-Rosalie. “That the shard has swapped our bodies.”

Rosalie watched herself blink in surprise, then look down at herself.

“Huh,” Delta-Rosalie said.

A few moments passed.

“Huh,” she repeated. “That’s, uh. Huh.”

Rosalie climbed out of bed. She had a room to explore. The extra height was disorienting. Rosalie was accustomed to perfect control of her body, and the different ratios of her limbs threw her sense of proprioception into disarray. But she adapted. It wasn’t something she’d trained for, obviously, but Rosalie was a fast learner. And their bodies weren’t shockingly dissimilar. They were both lean, muscled, and Delta only a few inches taller. Mostly, it was Delta’s chest that threw Rosalie for a loop. She wasn’t used to having so much up top. Where did she hide these things? In her leather armor, Delta had seemed only moderately busty. Naked, she might have more up top than even Zoey.

And Zoey—that was why Rosalie was moving straight to business. As Rosalie had had a sinking suspicion would happen, Zoey hadn’t spawned in with them. Figures I’d be stuck with this infuriating girl. Zoey could tolerate Delta, for some reason, but Rosalie most certainly could not; why had Rosalie ended up with her, and not the other way around?

She better be fine. A squirming, anxious feeling in her stomach contradicted her. Rosalie had dragged Zoey along into a second-advancement dungeon, and Zoey wasn’t even suited for first-advancement. But Rosalie needed to progress her runes—to be working diligently toward her destiny—and so she’d forgone catching Zoey up; it would take too long. She knew the risks. I made them clear. Rosalie’s earlier talk with Delta rang in her ears; she’s practically a civilian.

She’s fine.

“Why are you still lying there?” Rosalie snapped.

“Getting used to being in a different body,” Delta said lazily. “Maker, girl. You’re like, zero percent fat. So why is your ass so big?” Delta was craned around, looking at her—Rosalie's?—ass.

Rosalie couldn’t even begin to start on how to deal with that. So she chose not to. “Zoey’s not here. Get up and help me.”

Delta blinked at Rosalie. “Eh, she’s probably eaten by monsters already. Looks like it’s me and you.”

Oddly, the absurd stating of Rosalie’s fear alleviated it. Shards are brutal, but not unfair. If Zoey stayed still and waited for them to arrive, then she’d be fine. But it’s Zoey. Can I really trust that? She’d promised it, and showed general good sense to the practical dangers of a shard, but knowing Zoey, all the shard would have to do is waggle a slime-girl’s ass her way and Zoey would go sprinting off after it. She’s such a fucking pervert, Rosalie seethed, completely irrationally; Zoey had hardly done anything wrong.

Not that she cared what Zoey did with her cock; it was how sex-obsessed she was that irritated her. Even against her own better judgment. Her mind flicked to that dressing-room girl. Gods, Rosalie had been so mortified. Her, a d’Celestin, kicked out of a clothing store because her partner had been caught fucking the store attendant.

I’m going to kill her. Rosalie didn’t even know why she was getting mad. Again, Zoey hadn’t done anything.

It wasn’t her concern over Zoey’s well-being fueling her irritation. Why would she be concerned?

“Stop ogling my body and get moving.”

“I’m surprised you’re so chill with us both being naked,” Delta said.

“This was the entirety of our first shard. I’ve moved past it.” Plus, Rosalie was only looking at her own naked body. Which was weird, but less embarrassing than Delta’s, or Zoey’s. Hence, why Rosalie wasn’t looking down at herself. Or rather, Delta’s body. There was a lot to ogle down there, and she caught glimpses of it in her peripheral, but she didn’t have to pay attention to it if she didn’t want to.

“Alright,” Delta said, finally shuffling out of bed. “Our inventories are gone, too. Besides this.” She pulled out and waggled the metal buttplug she’d been supposed to wear, to match Zoey’s, then vanished it back into her inventory. “That happened last time?”

“Seems like shards Zoey delves follow a trend,” Rosalie said. That is, utterly perverted, and an endless headache. “The good news is the difficulty is adjusted.” They might not have armor or weapons, but the monsters would be weaker in exchange.

“You still have your rings on,” Delta commented, playing with Rosalie’s body’s nipple rings. “Or, I guess, I do.”

“Stop touching me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

Delta gave her an incredulous look, but stopped fiddling.

Rosalie turned back forward. “Welcome to shards of perversion. The traps will try to molest you, so be on the watch out.”

“Molest me? Shit, can’t wait.”

Rosalie gave her an irritated look, but Delta only grinned.

It was an unseemly expression to see on Rosalie’s own face. Everything about the girl moving around in Rosalie's body was unseemly. Perhaps that said something about Delta herself. Rosalie, ever the diplomat, said nothing about her observation.

“What?” Delta asked. “I kinda wanna try it out. Get caught, on purpose. Sounds like it’d be fun.”

“You and Zoey are a good fit,” Rosalie said. “It’s a shame you don’t seem to care about her wellbeing.”

“She’s fine, old blood.” Delta rolled her eyes. “If she sits still, we’ll go find her. If she doesn’t, she deserves to die for being a moron.”

Rosalie didn’t disagree, but she did bristle.

Delta waved her hand dismissively. “Alright, alright. Let’s get a move on.”

###

“Shit,” Delta said. “You weren’t kidding.”

Rosalie stared at the contraption in front of her. “This is more ... on the nose ... than the last one.”

“Use your fingers first. Then the dildo, it’s smaller. Work your way up.”

Rosalie stared at the thick plug in her hand.

Just do what needs to be done.

She used her saliva to lubricate her backdoor, then, with a vague thought of, I can’t believe I’m doing this in front of her, slid a finger in. She bit down on a lewd noise.

At least this wasn’t the first time she’d had something down there. Zoey’s tongue and fingers had very thoroughly explored her, already.

She worked her way up to two fingers, then three. Once she’d properly relaxed to the idea, Rosalie shuffled overtop the dildo. The plug was larger, so, as Delta had suggested, she’d use the dildo to stretch herself in preparation. Her knees scuffed against the rough stone floor.

She gripped the thick object and aligned her lower half to it. Somewhere in front of her—in her peripheral—she sensed Delta watching. Why am I facing her? Instead of the door? It seems like I'm trying to put on a show. Obviously, it had been a thoughtless coincidence.

Because that was what Rosalie was.

Thoughtless.

A person prone to not considering every implication of her actions.

Who am I kidding? the exasperated, disregarded part of her brain said.

Rosalie lowered her only slightly-relaxed second hole onto the object, feeling it bump against her and rub against that sensitive opening.

“Take it easy,” Delta said. “Don’t hurt yourself.” The words weren’t concerned—they were taunting.

“Shut up. Let me concentrate.”

Delta just grinned.

Rosalie gasped as the bulbous tip finally slipped in; it spread her tight hole open. So ... so tight. She worked through the pain—and pleasure—of being widened. Rosalie knew her body wouldn’t have been able to handle it, but Delta’s was used to this; her tight backdoor spread to accommodate the large invader, and finally, with a pleasurable pressure, it popped all the way in.

“There you go,” Delta smirked. “Well done. Work yourself a bit, then try the plug.”

“I said stop talking.”

Rosalie gently lifted herself, then lowered, her squeezing hole sliding up and down the stone length. She did it a few times, letting her hole relax to the painful girth. It was easier than she’d thought it’d be.

Finally, after a minute of lewd thrusting, she let it pop out of her.

Time for the plug.

Even having prepared herself, the flare of the enormous toy felt like she was being torn apart. She whined as she pushed it through, forcing herself to keep going even when it hurt, and finally the pressure disappeared all at once, the rounded object bursting into her. Her hole wrapped around the skinny base.

“That didn’t seem so bad,” Delta said.

Rosalie could seriously do without the commentary.

Or maybe I like it.

She lined herself up to the stone dildo, but her pussy, this time. This was just in my asshole. She hesitated; she hadn’t even considered that. Too late now, though. It still needed to be pleasured. She cleaned it off best she could with her hands, not that it had been dirty.

The idea shouldn’t excite her. So ... lewd.

It was a close fit. Rosalie had to wiggle her hips and work in her natural lubricant to make it fit. But eventually, with a delightfully satisfying stretch, the stone dildo entered her fully; she buried herself all the way into its impressive length and girth, her ass hitting the ground. Her other filled-up hole squeezed against the plug.

Like with the plug, her pussy had taken the dildo easier than she’d thought she would.

Because this wasn't her body. Delta's pussy was more used to entry than Rosalie's. Not that she meant that in a disparaging way; it was simply a fact. Rosalie didn't consider promiscuity a bad thing. Only pervertedness. Which were two distinctly separate traits.

Despite her best efforts, a moan was wrenched from Rosalie's lips at having her insides stuffed full of stone and metal.

"That’s an embarrassing noise,” Delta said. “Unbecoming for an old blood, don't you think?"

Rosalie opened her eyes to a smirking Delta. Or smirking Rosalie. Seeing her own lips curled in amusement felt vaguely ironic; like it really was Rosalie looking down on herself.

"S-Shut up,” Rosalie gasped.

"Nice stutter. It feels good, then? Maybe I should’ve gone first. I wonder if you would’ve been able to take it."

Her body, Delta meant. Because it was Delta’s body—worn by Rosalie—whose hips pumped up and down, taking in the stone's length and filling her up. More than the physical feeling of having her pussy spread open by a girthy object, it was Delta's belittling smile that had her insides squirming with pleasure. "Feels good?” Rosalie gasped out. “Hardly. I'm only doing what's necessary."

"I wonder, do you believe that, or is it for my sake?"

Was Rosalie that obvious? Delta was the second person to see through her with shameful ease. Maybe the truth of the matter was that Rosalie just wasn’t hard to see through.

"I'm not going to judge you for helping yourself along," Delta said. "Rub yourself, idiot. Or I'll come over and do it myself. You're making it take longer. Aren't we trying to be fast about things?"

Delta had provided enough of a plausible excuse for Rosalie's hand to go between her legs and start rubbing at her clit. She bounced up and down the thick object, feeling herself be spread open over and over. Imagine it's Zoey's cock. That's what you want, isn't it? To have it pressing all the way up your stomach? Further? Maker, that thing goes almost to my breasts, when it’s laid across me. Rosalie's breathing accelerated as she gyrated and thrusted against the shard's makeshift toy. In her other hole, a plug of metal jostled around. The sensation was incredible. Hurry it up. We're trying to get a move on. And Delta's watching. You shouldn't be providing any more show than is necessary. Fast is good.

Fast is good. Fast is good. Rosalie's hand rubbed rapidly, a radiating heat building in her stomach. Her lips opened as she panted out air. Why is this so exciting? It surely wasn't because Delta was watching her. The other girl was unendingly annoying; Rosalie was turned off for how little she wanted to be watched by such an insufferable teammate. And the indignity. Delta had some idea of what Rosalie was, if not exactly. She knew her pedigree, in part. For someone like Rosalie to be bouncing up and down, pleasuring herself on the thick cock of a shard. The shame was indescribable. Rosalie was drowning in it.

And drowning in something else.

The lewd, whining noises escaping Rosalie’s lips became louder. She stopped paying attention to Delta. She collapsed forward into the floor, elbows supporting her, as she thrusted desperately against the stone phallus. She imagined it was Zoey’s cock thrusting into her. It felt big enough, honestly. To think her dark-haired companion was more than twice as large ...

Her lower body spasmed, and she agonizingly kept thrusting, the pleasure building, building, building. The idea that Delta was watching only helped to bring her mind-melting euphoria higher.

It wracked through her body, and she lay whining on the floor, her pussy convulsing against its invader. Behind her, the grinding noise of a door opening filled the air. Rosalie was only half aware of it. Waves of pleasure washed through her. She couldn’t think.

It took a moment to come back to her senses.

“Nice job, old blood,” Delta said, a smirk in her voice. “Your kind really does work fast.”