Reroll

Regardless, when we finally get back upstairs… the lights are off.

“What could have caused that?” Betty frowns.

“Hard to say… maybe the beast dying let out some kind of contingent dispel?” I shrug, “They're easy enough to replace. I'll nab the talents and take care of it tomorrow.  That temporary talents rule is annoying.”

Betty frowns, so I explain as I focus on swapping things out, “If I have a magic talent for less than twenty-four hours, anything I do with the talent expires once I stop having the talent.  Instant items stick, but the lights are Permanent.”

“So I'm in the dark today, then?” Ah, right… Betty doesn't have the ability to cast Light.

Ed chimes in, “Light is on the Druid spell list, just stick close.”

Betty licks her lips, “How close do you want me?” Oy she's turning on the sauce.

I interrupt, “I have Darkvision with this build,” ninety feet of it; sixty from being undead, another thirty from Fey Adept, “But yeah, it's nice to see color.  So, about that saleable loot….”

Ed hands over the coins and things, which I clean via the Cantrips feat, and then restore by way of the Creation sphere's Alter option while they find another room in which to “relax”.

They're quite noisy… fortunately (or maybe unfortunately) my tasks don't require much in the way of focus, and I work just fine while they go at it.  And… yeah, Betty definitely likes it rough.

“Ooh, yeah, mash my milkers!”

“Oh, is that how you like it, my sexy little slave?”

“Yes master!”

…and on and on.  Not to my tastes, but they're both getting off on it, they're adults, they're not harming anyone else, they're not really hurting each other, and it's consensual on both sides, so… whatever.

From the outside, my task must look odd: I look at a stack of coins hard, and it becomes clean, bright, and shiny. I pick up a coin, look at it hard for a few seconds, and it fills out and the worn sections quickly become new again.  Depending on the state of the coin, they get back into mint condition in anywhere from six to thirty seconds. The pocket watches (actual gold, with carved decorations of nature scenes on the outer cases), silverware (actual silver, with a vine and rose motif), and plates (gold trimmed China, again with a vine and roses motif) go similarly.  It's all high end stuff.

I finish at about the same time Ed does, based on the, “Oh yes, sow your seed in my furrough,” comment from Betty, the “I'm gonna breed you,” from Ed, lots of grunting, and the ensuing silence.

And there's a CONSIDERABLE puddle of salty liquid under me when we're all done.  Ugh, this body.  I'm going to need to rest in a tub, aren't I?

I shake my head as Betty comes in, naked and carrying her gear, “Mind helping a girl out?” She pauses when she sees the puddle, licking her lips, “Or maybe I should help first….”

I look over Betty: Her dark brown hooters dominate her rather tall frame with those huge taps.  Her bulging muscles will keep anyone she doesn't want away, although with that thin waist, those large hips, and that gigantic backside framing her lower lips, currently dripping the remains of their last meal… some might risk it.  

“Take your time, drink me in…” Betty interrupts my reverie, and my eyes snap back up to hers.

I find my lips feel dry, so I run my tongue around them, and answer, “How about you drink up…” as I lay down and take my sleeves off, followed by my armor and cloak, leaving me basically naked in a puddle of my own juices as I spread my legs.

Betty smiles and gets on her hands and knees, dropping her gear and crawling across the floor to me, “Thank you mistress.”

“I'm not into the dom/sub thing,” I sigh as Betty gets her head between my legs, “people should partner with each other, not…” I can't complete that phrase, because that super subby friend of mine is REALLY good with her tongue.

Wait, she stopped licking? “Then let's make this a bit more equal…” she swings around, carefully sets her peach on my face, then continues.

And she's still dripping the remains of Ed's deposit. I start to open my mouth to object to that aspect, but then a drop lands right inside my maw.

And just like that, I'm going to town on the opening in front of me. That salty, bitter liquid leaking out of Betty’s taco is what I crave. It satisfies my body in a way I've only experienced once before… a family vacation as a child where I got severely dehydrated, and that first glass of water after… well, I could focus on nothing beyond that paper cup full of ice water until it was gone.  Back then, at that moment, I understood why so many desert cultures use the same words for “water” and “life”: For them, the two are inexplicably tied.  I was dying, and I wanted to live.  Before all this happened, that was the closest I had ever come to death.

And this body of mine from that stupid contract is reacting the same way now as my birth body did back then.

So I clean all of that salty, bitter, delicious nectar out of Betty’s flower, using my Improved Transformation feat and Alteration talents to elongate my tongue to make sure I get EVERYWHERE inside her to get as much of it as possible. We both buck and scream and clench many times before I'm certain I've harvested it all.

And only then does the craving let go… and I find I'm still under Betty.

“Ah, Betty?”

I don't get a response, so I shake one of her legs, “Betty?  Are you OK?”

I still get no response, so I try to lift her off me, and find a problem: I dumped strength in this build. I'm pinned.

I slap her, and continue to get no response. I pinch her, and still nothing.  Concerned, I use the Warp sphere to get out from under Betty and take a close look… okay, she's still breathing, with a smile on her face, is drenched in sweat, and has flushed skin.

“She's just exhausted,” one of my Wisdom-based “Als” informs me mentally, “You set her off a good sixteen times… she ran out of energy on number eight, and fell unconscious entirely at number thirteen. You'll be able to rouse her in a couple hours, but should let her sleep until she wakes on her own unless you want to heal her up with magic.”

“Thank you,” I mentally reply.  I'm glad I had one of them nab the Heal skill.

I consider a bit, swap out a few talents for better healing, and fix her up… but let her sleep.  I then swap a few talents again to get Everglow, and set a timer on my phone for when I'll be able to use it properly.  

That done… I need to stop and rest for eight hours anyway to get my nice, shiny Shadow Points.  I have Create Reality now, and those are needed to feed it and give me instant access to many different useful effects, bypassing the limitations I have on the Destruction and Conjuration Sphere, granting me nearly full access to the abilities of those two spheres plus many options from Alteration, Nature, Weather, and Creation… at the cost of granting the mimicked effect an extra will save for a greatly reduced effect… but it's rather broad access, and doesn't have the delay from Quick Study: I can just cast them as needed.

Of course, with the eight hour rest, and no ability to sleep, I have a lot of time to think, and I'm stuck on an unpleasant subject: Jizz.

I am clearly perfectly fine without it; none of my deaths have been related to a lack of it, so it's going to he psychological.  My body ABSOLUTELY craves it, though. I’ve never known of a human woman with that kind of a reaction, so I'm going to say it's not normal at all.  So that leaves… what, the source of my form?  The contract and… ah yes, Rachel was some kind of succubus nobility, wasn't she?  I imagine she tainted the power.  Accidentally or deliberately… it doesn't really matter.

So I'm a straight guy stuck in a female body  with a deep psychological addiction to jizz. Wunderbar.

Although given where I've caught myself staring, and how much this body welcomes a solid fleshy intruder… I may have to revise the “straight” portion of that. I still like girls… I look at the decor for a bit, and start to warm up, so switch my focus to my phone… but I'm clearly somewhere in the alphabet club's spectrum.

But you know what? I don't need a label.  I have been shaped by external forces to which I did not give informed consent (technical consent, yes, but I was absolutely tricked). Ultimately, though, everyone is shaped at least partially by external forces.  You don't choose your genetics, but do not exist without them. You don't choose your parents, but they're in charge and control basically all of your environment for the early formative years of your life.  You're bombarded with various ethical, moral, and political stances in school and on all forms of media long before you can form your own opinion, and that's all considered largely okay… you know, as long as the stances are within the acceptable range of the person judging, so your mileage may vary.  

I have a bit more of an abrupt case, though, and I do feel a little sore about it. The culprit is beyond my reach, though, so there's nothing for me to do about it.

For now.