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. 

Zoey sighed as the attendant’s cool hands wrapped around her cock. I can’t believe this is happening. A total stranger.

“It’s so hot …” Callie murmured, pulling back and forth, stretching Zoey’s cock skin and sending a shiver of pleasure up her stomach. “Are you sure it’ll fit?”

Zoey poured out a string of lubricant down her cock, which Callie immediately worked on spreading around. “Only one way to find out. I’ll get you ready?”

“I’m more than ready,” Callie breathed. “And I need to get back to work. I can’t be gone for long. It’s not that slow of a day.” She turned around and bunched up her long black skirt, bundling it above her waist and revealing lacy red underwear. Zoey hooked her thumbs around them and shimmied them to her thighs, taking the implicit permission. “I saw your bulge, and thought surely not … and then that I had to see what it was like.”

“I hope it meets expectations,” Zoey said, gripping her slippery cock and lining it up to Callie’s entrance. She rubbed it up and down, sliding between folds. Callie was right—she was ready, and didn’t need Zoey’s fingers or tongue in preparation.

“I really doubt it won’t.”

Zoey paused, remembering something. “Shit. I don’t have a condom.” As a girl, that’d never been something she needed to worry about.

“I have a potion at home. It’s fine, please. I want to feel it.”

Good to know those existed. Magical Plan-B’s. Assuming she could even get girls pregnant. “When I come, I, uh, produce a lot more than usual.”

“That sounds amazing,” she breathed.

“I mean, for clean-up.”

Callie paused. “Well, look at you, Miss Considerate.” She grinded herself against Zoey. “But please. Fuck me. I don’t care.”

Whatever. Zoey’d done her civic duty by bringing it up. 

She guided herself in, feeling Callie spread, and savoring the hot, wet pressure that wrapped around her cock. Callie breathed, sharply, as she spread wider and wider, taking Zoey’s unnatural girth. For a second Zoey was worried even with her skill, she wouldn’t fit. But she got the first two inches in, past her cock head—and so her full width—and Callie didn’t grab out or cry in pain. She did seem to lock still, knees bent inward, as she grappled with undoubtedly the largest cock she’d ever taken, but she handled it.

By the groan that escaped her lips, more than handled it. Quite enjoyed the experience. 

Zoey’s hand left her cock, moving to grip Callie’s waist. She got some lube on the woman’s nice blouse, fingers wet from her cock, but she didn’t think Callie would care. She was already breaking more than a few policies by doing this, so a slightly dirtied uniform was the least of her worries.

She pulled Callie toward her slowly, filling her up inch-by-inch. Zoey desperately wanted to thrust with abandon, but like usual, having such an unwieldy weapon came with downsides; she needed to take things easy if she wanted her partners to have fun. Which she very much did. The best part of sex was the noises she could draw out of other people—her own pleasure was only a close second.

“How—how is there still more?”

“Halfway,” Zoey grunted.

“Half? I can feel it in my stomach!”

Zoey’s cock pulsed at the lewd words. She kept pushing forward, and Callie started to wiggle in some mixture of discomfort and pleasure. She didn’t tell her to stop, so Zoey kept going.

Her hips finally met Callie’s ass.

“I can’t even describe it,” Callie whined. “I’m so full. Like my entire body’s wrapped around you.”

Zoey pulled back a few inches, then pumped forward, slapping flesh against flesh. Callie gasped.

“Does it hurt?” Zoey asked. She could feel her cocktip bumping the end of Callie’s insides. It made sense Mel liked cervix stimulation, but—not that Zoey was an expert on deep penetration, seeing how she’d always preferred women—from what she’d talked about with her friends, it was very hit or miss. 

“Amazing,” Callie groaned. “Harder. And faster. What are you waiting for?”

Zoey’d gotten lucky twice in a row, then. Maybe her skills helped her along. Either way, she did as instructed. Having spread Callie out and gotten her accustomed to her impressive length, Zoey could start the real fun.

She gripped Callie’s waist and started pumping. 

Loud slaps of skin echoed through the tiny room, and Zoey briefly wondered whether they needed to be quieter. But she’d already tried to be considerate several times, and Callie had brushed her off each time. Either she’d planned for it, or she didn’t care if she were fired. Zoey buried herself into the woman’s squeezing pussy and didn’t particularly care which it was. 

Zoey shuffle-stepped over to the bench, then sat and pulled Callie down on top of her. She squealed as Zoey’s cock pressed into her from a new position, filling her up from a different angle. Zoey gripped Callie’s chin and forced her head to turn toward her, then captured Callie’s mouth. She forced her tongue in and explored, Callie reciprocating with eagerness, every thrust of Zoey’s lower half drawing out pitiful moans and whines that ended up breathed into Zoey’s own mouth.

She wrapped her hands around Callie’s stomach and picked up speed. One hand dipped to between Callie’s legs to rub at her clit. 

For some inexplicable reason, Callie’s fully dressed attire made the situation more erotic. A hand quested up and squeezed at her chest over her clothes. Then, Zoey untucked the blouse, and wiggled her arm in and pulled down her bra. She pistoned away inside Callie’s breeding hole as she pinched a nipple and rubbed tight circles on her clit, most of her clothes pushed aside to provide access to her erotic spots.

“F-Fuck, it’s so much, so big, I, I—”

Zoey could tell a building orgasm when she heard one. “Are you going to cum? For me? Will you milk me with your tight, squeezing little pussy?”

Callie shivered. “If that’s what you want.”

Zoey gripped harder around her stomach and jackhammered. “Then do it. Cum. You want to feel it, don’t you? What it feels like to get filled up by a girl with a cock? To feel a girl’s hot, sticky load? That’s why you followed me, wasn’t it?”

Callie started to shake. “Y-Yes. I want to k-know. Please. Give it to me.”

“Then earn it. Use your clenching fuck hole and milk it out. I won’t give it to you until you do.”

Callie’s orgasm washed over her, pussy spasming against Zoey’s cock. Like promised, Zoey delivered. She’d been holding off desperately, and finally having her throbbing girlcock pressed in by spasming walls pulled hot strings of gooey white from her length. Zoey emptied herself into the stranger—the woman she had met a few minutes prior—filling her with the seed she so desperately wanted. Zoey’s thrusting lost friction as her cock was covered with her own cum, coating the pretty girl’s begging insides. It spilled from out of her pussy and onto Zoey’s lap, stretching between their lower halves with every thrust, like they’d been covered in glue.

Slaps and moans echoed in the small room, growing slower as they climbed down from the crescendo. 

Spent, Zoey’s head thunked into the back wall of the dressing room, and the two of their synchronized orgasm’s concluded. She panted, dizzy, like usual after expending herself, and Callie did the same, collapsed against Zoey’s body. Zoey’s cock stayed happily in her insides, pulsing irrhythmically and pushing another spurt of white every few seconds, which dripped between them.

“You weren’t kidding,” Callie said, exhausted, head leaned against Zoey’s. She placed a hand against her stomach. “There’s so much. I can feel it stuffing inside me. The potion might not even work.”

Which might have been hot to Zoey a few seconds ago, the idea of impregnating a stranger, but not when she’d already emptied herself. She leaned up in concern, but Callie laughed.

“Kidding, kidding. I’m not looking to be a mom.”

Well, now she’d put a paranoia inside Zoey, even if the words sounded entirely genuine, that she was kidding. Zoey huffed, then leaned back, forcing the worry away. But she really ought to start using condoms, however amazing it felt to empty herself inside.

Callie leaned forward and pulled Zoey’s softening cock out. Her cum spilled onto the floor, dripping down her thighs and onto her socks, her glossy black business shoes. She’d accumulated a significant puddle down on the floor, too.

“I should’ve listened to you,” Callie said, pursing her lips. 

Zoey’s mess was a terrible inconvenience, even when she hadn’t been in society, where cleanliness standards were higher. But seeing how she felt every searing ejection of that white liquid—and it was likely one of the reasons her orgasms lasted so long—well, Zoey wasn’t that fussed.

Though they were in a predicament, now.

Zoey leaned up from the wooden bench and took in the ruined dressing room. The girlcum coating the bench, floor, and Callie’s pulled-down underwear, down her thighs, drenching her long dark socks a shade blacker.

“Definitely getting fired,” Callie confirmed with a cute nod, putting her hands on her hips. She kicked off her shoes, then started wrangling her skirt off. “Wanna go a few more times to make it worth it?”

“You read my mind,” Zoey said.