Chapter 21

Fe Dullette was an odd woman, as perhaps expected of the suggested connection for identifying sex toys spat out of a lewd pocket dimension.

She was also painfully attractive, and dressed in a way to emphasize it. That she had horns curling from her head, and a short, puffy-white tail sprouting from her tailbone? Well, Zoey was quickly accustoming herself to the fact not all people here were human, and Fe’s plush, sheep-girl appearance definitely did something for her.

Not that Zoey allowed herself to harden at her curvy, meek appearance. Because, as she’d already stated, an erection would be literally impossible to ignore, considering Zoey’s generous bestowal. Fe’s figure wasn’t so impressive as to counteract the insanely embarrassing predicament she’d be in if she raised mast. Though still impressive. The sheep-girl had hips with their own gravitational well.

Zoey’s explanation to Fe was much less awkward than with Anja One-Eye, which she was exceedingly grateful for. She didn’t need to explain what the rounded silver objects were beyond the words ‘butt-plugs’, or why jewelry that attached to erotic zones would be appealing to certain people. She was, while perhaps not promiscuous, at a minimum knowledgeable. She knew her way around Zoey’s (in what had been her opinion, until Anja) mostly vanilla sex-related items. Anja’s opinion on who to go to had been well-formed.

In fact, Fe seemed outright intrigued by their haul, not simply ‘not uncomfortable’.

“And where was the entrance to this shard?” Fe asked, shooting apologetic glances between them. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

Zoey looked at Rosalie. Obviously Zoey couldn’t answer that question. Her arrival to the shard had been under once-in-a-lifetime circumstances. Rosalie had been the one to enter it naturally.

“The Verdant Sanctum,” Rosalie said. “You’ll forgive me if I’m not more specific than that.”

Fe bobbed her head. “Of course. Such a valuable find, you’ll want to visit it again, I’m sure. It was only curiosity—everything you say is confidential. I’m a professional.”

Revisit? That was something they could do? Zoey wouldn’t mind stopping by to see Mel again.

“Once was more than enough,” Rosalie said dryly.

“But with such strange items ... I can see these selling exceptionally well. Even I would—” the sheep-girl coughed. “That is, buyers won’t be difficult to find. The market might be niche, but the supply is lower than the demand.”

“You’ve seen items like this?”

“Here and there,” Fe said. “They’re quite uncommon.”

So their assumption had been right. Rare, but not unheard of.

“But you can identify them?” Rosalie asked. “By tomorrow morning? We’ll pay for the rush. We want to be on our way.”

“Of course. I’d be happy to, with items as interesting as these. I’ll get right on it.”

“Then we won’t hold you.”

Rosalie and Zoey left the store, and Zoey glanced back, seeing the sheep-girl flip the glass storefront’s ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’, then the blinds flicker down.

Zoey wondered how such items were ‘identified’. What, exactly, would the busty sheep-girl be doing?

The next stop was the shopping district. They chose their destination at random, one of the hundred buildings crammed shoulder-to-shoulder and teeming with patronage. Treyhull was one of the most populous cities in the Fractures; one of the primary congregating points for Wayfarers, and so there was no lack of either customers or stores. Though as Rosalie had said, many of these people weren’t Wayfarers, but civilians who had ventured from Haven to provide their services at a more lucrative rate, exchanging their day-to-day safety for a higher salary.

Perhaps not a significant amount of safety was traded away, though. Not in a place like Treyhull. Guards were posted everywhere, green-and-blue uniforms sharp, and adorned with silver badges. Their eyes were pointed to the sky, scanning with vigilance. Zoey could infer threats didn’t come from the forest floor, often—though they’d built the city in the treetops because it was far from safe there—but rather from above. Some manner of winged beasts? She had yet to see anything.

The shop they entered was smaller than most, and only a few people wandered around inside, browsing. Most were humans and the half-animal, half-human creatures she’d seen so many variations of. Shops divided themselves based on their typical patronage, which was reasonable. What would fit on a human would have difficulty fitting on those hulking rock-creatures, and no individual store could supply clothing for all races. These weren’t huge department buildings, like back on Earth

She looked through the wares, collecting shirts, pants, and undergarments to try on. A young black-haired woman helped Zoey with finding a bra that fit. Her eyes flicked to Zoey’s lower body more times than could be called subtle during the process, giving Zoey the first confirmation that the unnatural addition down there wasn’t something that could be hidden, even with boxer-briefs and baggy pants. Oh well. She guessed she’d have to get used to the odd looks. By the slight flush on the woman’s cheeks as she went about assisting Zoey, it wasn’t a disgusted look. Rather, an intrigued one.

The same woman helped Zoey carry the clothes to a dressing room. She wrote something down on a notebook as Zoey walked in, probably keeping track what she’d brought with her. Zoey’s mind wandered to her earlier thoughts about how theft and inventories worked. How did they prevent it? Close observation? Some manner of alert system? She’d ask Rosalie later; it wasn’t like she planned to steal, anyway.

Inside the stall, Zoey went about trying the various items on. She started with the undergarments—the underwear, specifically. She was trying to find something a good mix between securing and not uncomfortable, which was a hard line to toe. If she wanted to receive less looks, she’d need to wear something that glued her package in nice and firm, but Zoey didn’t like the feel of that. Too loose, though, and just walking around would make her situation apparent to anybody nearby.

A knocking at the door interrupted Zoey’s efforts. She glanced at the wood, then said, “Occupied?”

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am.” It was the same woman who had been helping her earlier. Her voice was timid, and—a bit breathless? “It looked like you might need help. Can I, um, come in?”

While Zoey wasn’t an expert on this world’s customs, she didn’t think store attendants were supposed to ask to enter their client’s dressing room. A grin crept onto her lips as she guessed what was happening. “I’m barely dressed,” Zoey said. “Is that fine?”

The door handle clicked open, and the attendant slipped in. Her cheek were already flushed, and she glanced behind nervously, as if she couldn’t believe what she was doing. Then back forward, to Zoey.

And her state of undress. Zoey was wearing only her underwear; the woman took in her mostly-naked form and breathed in surprise. Her eyes lingered on Zoey’s tits, then stomach, then lower—to the main surprise, the reason Zoey suspected she’d come in.

The pair of men’s underwear she had on was ... well, one of the tight-fitting ones. Too much so. It secured her equipment in place, but created a defined outline that left nothing to the imagination.

The attendant sucked in another breath of air, louder this time, more disbelieving—and more admiring.

Zoey started to harden, and the woman’s eyes widened in pace with it. Not remotely able to stay in the underwear itself, it slid down her leg as it filled out, then peeked through the leg exit—and kept going. It grew down to her knee before it had finished. The attendant stared.

“It’s hard to find something that fits,” Zoey said cheekily.

“I—I bet. I thought it looked like you had...” she trailed off, then her eyes flicked up, to meet Zoey’s. She smiled, cheeks now a deep red, the flush crawling down her neck, too. “Well. I’m sure I could offer some professional advice. Before I make suggestions, can I get a full idea of what I’m in for?”

“You sure you’re ready for that?”

“Not remotely. But I’d like to, anyway.”

Zoey’s thumbs hooked at the band of her underwear, and slid them down. Her cock, no longer secured in place, bounced up, filling the space between them.

The woman—Zoey caught a glimpse of a nametag, ‘Callie’—stared, taking a few seconds to find a response. “It’s—how is it...? It’s so big.”

“She’s a bit unwieldy,” Zoey agreed.

“I don’t mean to be insensitive, but ... how, when it doesn’t look like you’re...?”

“Magical mishap,” Zoey said. “It’s actually pretty new. Haven’t broken her in yet.”

Callie laughed, half from her lingering shock, and half from Zoey’s silly phrasing. “I would love to help you, but I’m not sure I could.”

“It’ll fit, if that’s what you mean. Had to get some special lubricant commissioned.” The false explanation slipped from her lips naturally. Couldn’t really explain it was her skill doing it.

“It must be really special.”

“It is. Can I pull it out?”

“I suppose I can make an exception to store policy,” Callie breathed. “But really ... it’s so big. Can I touch it?”

“Be my guest,” Zoey grinned, pulling out a bottle of lubricant from her inventory. Really, the whole pocket-space thing was so convenient. Never caught unprepared.

The lube obviously wasn’t what would make Zoey fit. It was the newest of her runes that would allow her cock to squeeze into tight spaces that wouldn’t normally accommodate her. To her partner’s amplified pleasure, hopefully. Callie would be the first who got to test it out, at least for her lower holes. Rosalie had made it clear it worked for her throat.