The morning after the "handjob incident," as Rennia had mentally dubbed it, had been slightly awkward so far, at least. They were back to hiking like they had been yesterday morning, although with the comfort of a lower steep elevation and actual stone steps to rest on.
Whatever Maeve had made her do last night, the damage had been irreversible. She had caught herself several times now staring at Maeve's round butt, trying to recreate the image of her buttocks being squeezed in the tight thong she wore. She wasn't sure she'd see it if she lifted her robe.
And partially weird as it was, she was doing it out of necessity. Her cock had been semi-hard constantly under her clothes—mild arousal, a catalyst if she needed to tap into sexual discipline. Which was good for combat, certainly. Maeve, however, had been unusually quiet, only giving her shy glances, rarely meeting her eyes.
Part of what she believed was that Maeve was only excited by the novel prospect of a woman having a penis. When they had engaged in sexual activity, tasted her fluids without preparation, she probably got weirded out. She did feel shame. She knew restorative union did some kind of healing thing, but she didn't know her cum was that weird. Did it have something to do with the goddess seed?
She rolled her eyes. It definitely had something to do with it. As soon as the old ancestral whore will show herself again, she'd enquire the goddess about it.
Still, she was embarrassed. She was never one for girl-on-girl romance, but this girl she barely knew gave her a handjob. This upstuck, seemingly soft, spoiled noble gave her a handjob and swallowed her cum. It was exhilarating—maybe next she could take it a step further. Taking it slow, foreplay, so much better than the raw animalistic sex Ishmere preferred.
Or maybe she needed to focus on what was ahead of her. Arosia hadn't shown herself again, and she was scared of this dark lady business, the hex, and the spirit that waited for her. She needed to focus.
Dragging Rennia out of her thoughts. Maeve somehow had fell forward, and nearly plummeted on the ground. Rennia lunged, catching her from behind. Her body pressed against hers tight, chest to chest—breast to breast. The pathfinder lifted her back up, steadying her.
"Hey, slow down a bit," Rennia beckoned. "You're practically running to that spring, you silly clutz."
Maeve didn't smile. She did bite her lip, and pushed rennia back. She was still overly awkward. There was an almost palpable tension in the air, unspoken but present. Rennia needed to know, right now. She couldnt' fight with unresolved tension.
"Is this about last night? Is this about the cum issue? If so, I can explain."
Maeve swallowed but shook her head. "Partially, though it's something else. I'm not as experienced as you when it comes to sexy stuff. I guess I bit off more than I could chew. Ahem..."
Rennia stared at her, tilting her head. "You wanna talk about it?"
"No, not right now—" Maeve turned away. Had things happened too fast? Did Rennia misread her?
"Look, we need to—"
The ground started moving on its own, and Rennia's [Sixth thread] skill kicked in. It was a strange feeling to exprience it without anything happening. The last time she had used it had been brief. This felt like danger constantly oscillating around. Underground. She could feel it under the soles of her feet. She stepped away as quickly as she could as she felt something rupture the ground.
"Maeve! Dodge!" The mage, unathletic, got caught off guard. She leaped, tumbling to a large pair of rocks, her grimoire grabbed and ready to cast a spell. Massive elongated green vines shot out of the ground, writhing like they were living beings. The vines came at Rennia, but she slashed at them, causing them to recoil.
Immediately, the mass of green tentacles shot for Maeve with swift precision. One knocked the grimoire out of her hands. Another slowly wrapped its way around her thighs, constricting, grabbing her by the leg, the vine slipping in under her robe.
Maeve started squealing. "Rennia! HELP ME!"
On instinct, Rennia tapped into Quicken. Her feet became nimble and her sword lighter. She ran towards the vines in leaps and then cut through them as they tried pulling Maeve away. The vines changed their tactics, wrapping themselves around Maeve's chest, effectively blocking Rennia from outright slashing it. One lashed out at her from the rear. She sliced it apart, dodging another.
Her eyes blinked as the living system tried to communicate with her. She ignored it.
She struck out at the vines covering Maeve's chest. It was incredibly hard to assess what to do, but she felt something thrum inside her. She could see it clearly—like some kind of peripheral internal vision. Whatever had happened to her, some kind of skill. Her sight had been altered. She could see inside the vines. They weren't a senseless mass of green. There was a limbic system inside and a fluid that ran from the tip deep into the ground like an artery.
She angled her blade and pierced the vine, causing it to recoil and drop Maeve on the ground, who scrambled for her grimoire. "Hell no!" Maeve exclaimed and started chanting. A scorching flame erupted from her hands as a magic circle surged into the ground.
The burning vines flailed wildly before submerging themselves in the ground again. Rennia ran over, huffing. "Are you alright?"
Maeve made a face like she wanted to cry. The top part of her robes was slightly torn but revealed a bit of cleavage. These vines, whatever they were, were perverted.
Maeve started mock crying, shaking her head. "No, no, no, look at this. All slimy and sticky. What a mess."
A light went off in Rennia's head. Oh, oh... It was explicitly clear the vines weren't random monsters attacking her. They were likely the spirit's doing, a deterrence for entrance. A spirit hell-bent on causing psychological sex mischief commands an army of underground tentacles. It was certainly lewd.
"It's not that bad. Nothing a magical spell can't fix."
"Well, I don't suppose you know a cleaning spell then?"
Rennia giggled. "No."
"uhh, this was a bad Idea indeed." Maeve wiped the sticky residue that was stuck on her hands onto the ground. She made an effort to clean her grimoire. Rennia handed a towel she had kept in her backpack to her and sat down with her. "Are you sure, it's going to be ruined."
"Don't make a fuss about your highness, i'll just buy a new one."
Maeve gave a questionable look.
Rennia had taken a snippet of the green fluid that was sprayed everywhere. She brought it close and smelled it. It was strong, like a strong medicinal herb, but she didn't taste it, lest it was poisonous.
Maeve started groaning. "Ugh, you know, a horse would be a pretty good investment if we're going to be traveling this far."
Rennia shrugged. "You're the one who insisted we go by foot."
"True, but I hadn't expected to be roughed up by a phallic leaf. It's ridiculous."
It was, but it didn't change a thing. They were already in that position.
"Atleast we should be close now, a talk with with the spirit and we'll be taking a nice warm—"
Rennia was cutoff, a voice called out from afar—a female voice, in the direction of the cavern, but on a smaller unpaved pathway.
"Help! Someone, please!"
Rennia dragged Maeve up, much to her annoyance, and sprinted in that direction.
"Hey! We're coming!" Rennia shouted.
"Who's we!?"
Rennia didn't wait, and the sorceress followed.
When they got there, they were blessed with the most obscene thing Rennia had witnessed in her life. A woman was strung up against a tree, wearing nothing but a bra and torn underwear. Her arms were bound above her head, and a host of living vines clenched tight against her body, wrapped around her thighs, waist, and chest. The woman spotted them and started screeching.
"Get them off! Get them off me!"
The vines pulsed and writhed, slowly tightening their grip. Some of them seemed to be... exploring, the strangers body.
Rennia took a moment to catch Maeve's face, she was as red as a cherry.