Lewd Ascent - A Futa LitRPG Ch. 036-045

2.21 The Not-So-Shocking Reveal

Zoey, Not-Zoey, Rosalie, and Delta walked into the boss room.

A breathtaking chamber spread out before them. Arched pillars with carved marble decorated a circular arena surrounded by columns that reached high into the domed ceiling. At the center was a bed, complete with silk sheets and a thick mattress. A large mirror hung on one wall, reflecting the scene.

"Any guesses what the bed's for?" Delta asked dryly.

At each corner of the walls sat massive statues depicting ... them? The statues were nude women, with her, Delta's, and Rosalie's visages plainly etched into the stone. They stood in various sensual poses. Rosalie's statue cupped her breasts, while Delta's held her hands behind her back, leaned forward with a smirk. Zoey's statue, on the other hand, had her hands on her hips, chest thrust out, and looking almost arrogantly confident.

The stone had an otherworldly luster to it, almost glowing under the lights inside the domed chamber. It made Zoey shiver—the otherworldliness, the elegance, and the fact it was their own faces on the statues.

"Well," Not-Zoey sighed, "I guess it's time for the big reveal."

"You're the boss," Rosalie said. "I'm shocked."

"Absolutely floored," Delta said.

"Huh?" Zoey said. "Wait, what?"

"I guess fooling one of you's not so bad," Not-Zoey said.

"Doesn't count," Delta said. "She's new to this."

"Wait—wait," Zoey said. "No, that can't be right."

"Don't be upset," Not-Zoey said, turning to her, and she seemed genuinely distressed. "Our talk wasn't fake. Everything I said, I meant, and I am you—just ... not entirely."

"Your talk?" Delta asked.

"We did some self-reflecting together," Not-Zoey said. Concerned green eyes flicked to Zoey, and she insisted, "and it was every bit real. I'm glad we could have it."

"You're—you're the boss?" Zoey's head spun. "What are you?"

"A reflection," Not-Zoey said. "For a lack of a better term." She waved a hand in front of her face, and in a chilling display of what she meant, Not-Zoey's face morphed into ... Not-Rosalie. Her body shrunk, appropriating Rosalie's diminutive but powerful frame, Zoey's generous curves melting into Rosalie's smaller, just-as-enticing ones. "I'm hollow. I take in other people. There's really not much of me," she admitted. "Whoever I'm wearing, takes up most of who I am. So I was you. It wasn't a lie." The words came in Rosalie's crisply enunciated voice, now, not Zoey's.

"But ... you knew ..."

"Our circumstances?" Not-Rosalie asked. Her lips quirked. "I did. The memories come with the face." She turned to Rosalie. "Which, let me tell you, is always interesting. Everyone's secrets, poured out for me to see."

Rosalie stiffened at the implication, eyes widening.

Not-Rosalie laughed. "The best part is," she said tauntingly, "I bet you think you're the one with bigger things to hide."

Which was a statement that drew two pairs of eyes—Rosalie's and Delta's—to Zoey.

Zoey didn't have a response. For multiple reasons. The first being the obvious—how to respond to an accusation like that. 'Yeah, I'm from another world, guys.'

The second reason, that she was still reeling from how Not-Zoey (Not-Rosalie?) was the shard's boss monster. Her interactions with Not-Zoey had been so ... genuine. Regardless that both Rosalie and Delta had alluded to not trusting Not-Zoey—and Zoey herself for that matter—immediately upon seeing the two of them. Still. She felt ... betrayed. Silly as she felt to admit it. Of course something weird was going on with Not-Zoey.

Not-Zoey's personality, perhaps expectedly considering who—or what—she was, had shifted as soon as she changed skins. Rosalie's confident demeanor now draped across her shoulders, and she smirked antagonistically at her fox-eared counterpart: Rosalie, in Delta's body.

"Some honesty would go a long way, you know. Why hide? At least Zoey has good reasons for it. Better than yours, at least."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Purple eyes—Delta's, but Rosalie's—flicked between Zoey and Not-Rosalie.

Zoey crossed her arms. "She doesn't have to share anything she doesn't want to."

"And our gallant hero rises up," Not-Rosalie said, rolling her eyes and turning back to Zoey. "You two are lucky I'm keeping your confidence. There's a lot of really interesting conversations I could force out, knowing what I know." She turned to Delta. "I wonder, is it three for three?"

Delta stiffened as Not-Rosalie's features shifted. An orange tail sprouted from her tailbone, and Rosalie's blonde hair shifted to orange, a pair of ears popping out from her head.

Not-Delta's head tilted.

Her nose wrinkled.

"Wow," Not-Delta said. "How boring."

"Yeah, fuck you too," Delta said dryly. "Not all of us can be secret royalty."

Not-Delta laughed. "Fair enough." Dismissively, she turned away, facing Zoey, long orange tail swishing in amusement.

"How's your particular style of 'fighting' going to work?" Zoey asked. She asked as much out of genuine curiosity as to steer them away from the sensitive topics Not-Delta had chosen to play with—Rosalie's and Zoey's secrets.

"Hm," Not-Delta said, tapping her lip as if considering the question. With her adoption of Delta's body, she'd taken a playful, irreverent demeanor. "Let's start with some good old fashioned fun first. It can't all be fucking and frolicking, can it?" Her lips tugged down, her eyes locking with Zoey's. "Though, I'm sorry about this next part—but your team's weak point is pretty obvious."

Ah, Zoey thought. Rosalie had said the bosses would be smarter.

###

The reflection—the body-shifter—fought with all three of their styles, abilities, and tendencies. Her body morphed between Delta's, Rosalie's, and least frequently Zoey's, as appropriate to the situation. She fought with just as much deadliness—and intensity—as any of them.

Rosalie was hard-pressed to keep Zoey protected from her onslaught. Rosalie was, after all, defending Zoey from herself. The reflection's brutal elegance in combat matched perfectly with Rosalie's own, and worse, exceeded it; the reflection-monster was faster, stronger, and just as skilled as whoever's body she inhabited. With her teammate's natural prowess, it was a distinctly more threatening situation than most tier two shards would present. A counter, so to say, specifically to them: whose unusual talents should have meant they were safe in such a low-rank shard.

Only the fact it was a three-on-one meant Zoey stayed protected. And even then, not perfectly. It was the first time Zoey had taken actual hits during either shards; the reflection's dagger—summoned from nowhere, a sliver of plate-glass that morphed with as much fluid ease as the creature did—caught Zoey in several places, her thighs, arm, stomach, scratching red lines that dripped rivulets of blood down her body.

Zoey's heart slammed in her chest as her party squared off against the shard's final encounter, desperately trying to keep her attention and failing, the reflection's attention focused only on Zoey—the 'weak link'. However many times she'd acknowledged that these shards could be dangerous ... the sting of glass opening up her skin had hammered the fact in with fatal clarity no amount of mental acknowledgment could have managed.

If things go wrong ... this could be the end.

But things didn't go wrong. The reflection's assault was vicious and focused, but her teammates—though, admittedly, not Zoey, a quarter as much—rose up to the challenge. Again, these two girls weren't beginners in the slightest; they responded to the threat almost as if they'd been expecting it. Rosalie and Delta moved as a unit, as if they'd prepared specifically for the body-shifter. Even through Zoey's panic, she was impressed; their coordination was seamless, despite having known each other less than a day.

The reflection was driven off by their efforts. Unlike Mel—the first boss—her so-called 'healthiness' was harder to discern, but by her flagging stamina and the injuries accruing across her body, persisting even after body-shifts, Zoey could tell she was being worn down.

"Okay, okay," Not-Rosalie finally laughed, peeling back from the brawl and swaying unsteadily on her feet. "Like I said, some old-fashioned fun to start. But let's not finish too quickly. To the main course."

She swiped her hand to the left, and Zoey was suddenly falling.

###

She landed hard onto the giant, plush bed that sat at the center of the room, bouncing with the impact before steadying herself on her hands and knees.

What? They'd been fighting on the outskirts of the chamber-arena, dancing around the perimeter as they—or more accurately, Rosalie and Delta—fought against the creature. How had Zoey been teleported to the center of the room? And where were her teammates?

"Go ahead," Not-Zoey said, making Zoey jump. "Heal up." She grinned. "Good thing you didn't empty out all the health potions to scoop up dungeon-trap cum."

Zoey stared warily at Not-Zoey, but she didn't seem about to attack. And whatever had happened, it seemed the first—the only?—attack phase of the fight had ended. She checked herself over, running her hands and eyes across her body. The fall hadn't hurt, not seriously, however long-lasting and rapidly accelerating it had felt. The plush bed had cushioned the impact.

And while she was still bleeding from the wounds she'd gathered during the fight—blood dripping down from several glancing blows, the most Rosalie had allowed past her guard—she was, all things considered, not in bad shape. Not pristine ... but not in any dire state, either.

She did as told and downed a health potion, summoned from her inventory, eying Not-Zoey as she did. Though not her first time drinking a potion—she'd relied on the stamina ones heavily during their long travels—it was Zoey's first time drinking a health one. The liquid burned as it went down, but it did its job, healing her minor injuries, the glancing blows inflicted by the reflection's morphing glass weapons. Her insides tingled as the potion worked its magic.

Not-Zoey watched her drink, grinning. "Cool," she said. "Now, there's something we were so rudely interrupted from finishing, isn't there? I just hope you don't mind the spectators."

"Spectators?" Zoey's eyes followed the direction of Not-Zoey's smirk. There, up in the rafters of the enormous boss-room arena, paced her two teammates. Rosalie banged her fist on an invisible barrier. She was a bit too far for Zoey to make out an expression, but her body-language radiated displeasure. "Ah." Then, the first part of what Not-Zoey said sunk in. "Rudely interrupted?"

The smirk grew. Not-Zoey fell back into the bed, then rolled over, showcasing her exposed ass. With the flurry of violence, the fact everyone was nude had been erased from Zoey's awareness—far from the most important thing to be thinking about. But with Not-Zoey's shapely ass so on display, she was, suddenly, aware again.

Not-Zoey tapped her ass, which jiggled. Thick black letters, 'FREE USE CUM DUMPSTER', stood starkly out against her pale flesh from their body-writing escapades earlier. "You know, I still don't know what you wrote there," Not-Zoey said, "but I have the feeling it's about to be a true statement."

Despite this creature's thorough efforts at killing—or at least hurting—her a second ago, Zoey's cock stiffened, engorging itself. The sight of Not-Zoey's ass presented so eagerly in front of her was too much to fight against.

Not that she wanted to fight against this. This phase of the bossfight was the part Zoey might actually be able to help, like against Mel. The part of the encounter she wouldn't be wholly useless.

And Zoey had made a promise to herself that she'd be getting into her own insides before the shard was over.

It looked like the opportunity had finally arrived.

2.22 ❤ Go F* Yourself

"You know," Zoey said, "it's weird being propositioned to by someone trying to kill me two minutes ago."

"Then take your anger out on me." Not-Zoey waggled her ass, still turned over on her stomach and looking back at Zoey with a smirk. "I might not be as durable as Mel when it comes to this, but I think I can put up a good fight."

"Aren't you a second-advancement boss? Shouldn't you be more durable?"

"If fucking was all I did, maybe. Not trying to spoil the surprise too much ... but you might want to wear me down for phase three."

"Phase three." By the sounds of it, more of phase one. Combat. More of her trying to kill Zoey. Which was quite the thing to hang over Zoey's head while wiggling her ass around invitingly. Fuck it. "You know what? Sure. Wear you down. I can go for some of that."

Not-Zoey grinned, and a glint appeared in her eyes. "Ready to find out what your own pussy feels like?"

Which succeeded in making Zoey's heart skip a beat, despite the circumstances. Where had Not-Zoey's timidity gone?

Zoey crawled across the bedsheets, the plush material indenting as she moved. She perched herself overtop Not-Zoey.

Despite having shifted bodies several times, the thick black ink from their body-writing event was as visible as ever. 'FREE USE CUM DUMPSTER', Not-Zoey's ass read.

Fuck. Her cock twitched in excitement.

Zoey guided it between two soft cheeks, rubbing it up and down Not-Zoey's ass, between bolded letters. Soon to be true. She guided it down, rubbing her cockhead against slick folds, lubricating herself in preparation.

My folds, Zoey hazily corrected herself. Rubbing my cockhead against my folds.

This was her pussy she'd be thrusting into. Even if it was guided by a consciousness that wasn't hers, it was still her own body. Every biological detail, perfectly duplicated. And maybe not her mind exactly, but something close—just, merged with another's consciousness. For most meaningful uses of the word, Not-Zoey was her. Her memories, her personality.

However intense the fight had been a few minutes prior, Zoey's brain quickly grew addled by lust. She slid her cock up and down, rubbing against agonizingly soft flesh—her own flesh—mentally bracing herself for what she was about to do.

"Hurry up, won't you?" Not-Zoey breathed. She sounded as tantalized by the idea as Zoey.

She lined her cockhead up to Not-Zoey's opening. Even just sliding, the feeling was incredible. Warm, inviting, wet. Not-Zoey rubbed back, arching her back, and encouraging Zoey to thrust in.

"Ready?" Zoey asked, her voice grown husky.

"For that thing? Probably never."

Zoey pushed forward, pressing the head of her cock into Not-Zoey's entrance. She breathed in as she pushed past tight resistance, sinking inside Not-Zoey's sex.

I'm inside myself.

Zoey's entire body burned with the idea. Not-Zoey's warm, tight pressure enveloped her member, spreading through her shaft, making her whole body tingle with pleasure. The feeling was electric, amplified a hundred times over by the mental stimulation of knowing it was her own pussy she'd just pushed into.

Zoey's breath caught as she thrusted again. Then again, and again, picking up speed. A needy, foreign force took over Zoey's hips. She slapped in, harder, faster, deeper with every passing second.

"Oh god," Not-Zoey groaned, pressing her face into the bedsheets as Zoey filled her up.

Zoey's hips finally hit Not-Zoey's ass, her back-and-forth efforts finally driving all the way into Not-Zoey's pussy. Like usual, she'd needed to ease in. But now she held still for a moment, savoring the sensation of having another woman's pussy—that was also her own—wrapped around her cock.

It was a feeling, Zoey realized, she would never tire of. Being inside another girl made her feel ... powerful. She'd always been a person not afraid to take control in bed, but this, the tight pressure of wet, squirming pussy-walls around her cock ... it gave her an almost primal sense of control, something heady and intoxicating.

The fact it was her own pussy she'd entered? Her own tight walls pleasuring her cock? It took the sensation to eleven.

Zoey growled, leaning forward and breathing hot air into Not-Zoey's ear. She lifted her hips then slammed them back forward. Flesh slapped against flesh, and waves of pleasure ran up and down her spine, shooting bolts of lightning through her nerves. She needed more.

"Faster," Not-Zoey groaned, apparently agreeing. "You call this ... a fucking?"

Zoey picked up speed. Her hips slammed back and forth as she pistoned in and out of the girl beneath her. Slaps echoed around the room from the vigor of Zoey's thrusts. The sheets thumped and fluttered under their bodies, tossed about by the forceful impact, each more powerful than the last, sinking their bodies into the material then back up. The bedframe creaked as they bounced. Her cock slid in and out of tight, coaxing walls.

Zoey hooked her two middle fingers into Not-Zoey's mouth and pulled her back. Not-Zoey licked at Zoey's fingers even as she whined incoherent, lewd noises.

Fuck. This is so good. A second ago, Not-Zoey had been trying to kill her. Now, Zoey was giving it everything she had to slam her cock into her. Talk about a swap-up.

Either way, Zoey took out some of her frustration on her partner. Not-Zoey'd been the one to suggest it in the first place.

Not-Zoey's back arched as Zoey rammed her cock with growing intensity. Not-Zoey's moans and gasps turned to loud, desperate pleas for more. She was starting to shake. Zoey's efforts were working. Her fourteen inch girlcock had turned the woman into a puddle of begging and growing ecstasy with a speed even Zoey hadn't expected.

Zoey grabbed a handful of Not-Zoey's black hair and forced her head back. "Do you like it? My thick cock filling you up? Tell me you like it."

Not-Zoey moaned in response, and Zoey roughly yanked her head side-to-side. She felt she could be forgiven the roughness, seeing how Not-Zoey had been trying to kill her.

And she'd suspected Not-Zoey would like it. The pained moan wasn't all pain, and Not-Zoey panted with fluttering eyes, basking in the sharpening-of-sensations her yanked-on hair had brought.

She was Zoey. Zoey didn't mind when things got rough, either.

"Answer me," Zoey growled into her ear.

"I ... I love it. I want your cum inside me," Not-Zoey groaned. "Make me yours. Fill me up with your seed. Please." Her body, and pussy, spasmed beneath her as the first of many-to-come orgasms wracked her body. Zoey picked up speed, the slapping of flesh intensifying, and her own orgasm building with equally unexpected speed.

"Say it again," Zoey snarled, shoving Not-Zoey's face into the sheets and rubbing it into the fabric. Not-Zoey cried and shuddered as her climax coursed through her. "Tell me what you want."

"I said," the muffled, gasping response came. "I want—I want to be full of your, your—" She couldn't get the words out, her orgasms erasing her ability to speak. But it was enough for Zoey.

Zoey slammed one last time into Not-Zoey and let go. She erupted, shooting load after load of sticky cum deep into her copy-cat. A torrential flood poured from her cock. She felt every muscle in her body tense, helping squeeze every drop out. The heat grew in her core until it overwhelmed her with its ecstasy. It coursed and coursed, matching each shudder and clench of her cock buried into Not-Zoey's insides. Not-Zoey's spasming pussy helped milk Zoey. Zoey's mind drifted away, overcome by a sea of intense bliss.

When she finally came down, Zoey collapsed forward onto Not-Zoey's back. Zoey's sweaty body pressed into hers. They panted as they withdrew from their respective orgasms. Zoey's exhausted muscles relaxed, softening as the explosive high left her.