This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder Than Expected
7.60 – Second Claim I

Rosalie watched Delta set Maddy on the ground. The illusionist's stomach was rounded in an obscene way—shouldn't Delta have needed a potion for that? Probably the shard. Maddy seemed barely conscious, a hand on her stomach as cum leaked from between her legs and pooled on the floor. She had drifted off to satisfied unconsciousness.

Despite how thoroughly she'd been abused, she was wearing a dreamy smile. There weren't any justifications Rosalie could make for that expression. Her teammate had enjoyed her defeat. She hadn't even tried to resist, really.

She … couldn't blame her. Rosalie hadn't been able to muster the willpower to stagger to her feet and intervene in what was happening either. And it wasn't because of the shard's influence. As much as she wanted to pretend the shard was what had her feeling so hot she might combust, the only real effect was the one locking her limbs down. While she might be able to resist if she tried harder, it was her own traitorous mind preventing it.

Was it wrong to have so thoroughly enjoyed watching her girlfriend's girlfriend be abused from two ends by massive foxgirl cocks?

Delta let out a long, satisfied sigh. "That was amazing," she breathed, standing and stretching her arms above her head, an action that her shadow-self mirrored. "Short girls are amazing. I swear I could feel my cocks touching inside her, she's so small. Just perfect."

And then she turned her predatory gaze toward Rosalie, red eyes gleaming. Rosalie froze.

"Don't—don't get any ideas," she warned weakly.

"Oh? Too late for that, I've had about a dozen. But, you're still in the mood for resisting? Feels kinda pointless, or am I supposed to ignore how wet your thighs are, Princess?"

"I—I don't—"

She looked down at herself. Unfortunately, there wasn't a coherent argument she could make for the physical evidence left behind in the wake of Delta's thorough fucking of Maddy, so she closed her mouth with a click of teeth. One crucial skill in combat was knowing when to admit a loss and regroup.

Delta strode over, hips swaying, and she crouched onto the balls of her feet, elbows on her knees. Smirk in full effect. Her cock glistened with Maddy's juices—and her own cum, coated as she had continued thrusting even as she poured her load into Rosalie's teammate.

Rosalie realized she was staring and jerked her attention up to amused red eyes. Red eyes. Not purple. Rosalie preferred the purple … but the contrast certainly added to the haze of the scenario. It made her feel like she was being preyed on, those foreign yet familiar eyes. But 'preyed on' in a way that she, shamefully, felt completely ready to let happen.

"As much fun as ruining that pretty little body of yours is with Zoey's help," Delta murmured, "having you all to myself … I think I'll enjoy it."

Rosalie's heart threatened to hammer out of her chest. What should she do? She ran into the same mental blocks as when she'd watched Maddy get lifted into the air and rutted into by two busty, well-endowed foxgirls. Even if she knew she should resist and fight against the effects of the shard, she wasn't able to act on it.

In the end, she lay there and mustered, "S-Snap out of it. You don't … you don't need to do this." It was the best she could give.

Delta's eyebrows shot up, and she seemed delighted. "Trying to convince me to fight? When you're failing to do so yourself? Interesting approach. And why would I, anyway? I'm just … I'm just helping the team." Her words faltered at the end, and for the briefest moment, her expression morphed into a frown of confusion—as if checking her logic. But it was less than half a second: her smirk returned. "I'm helping the team," she repeated with total confidence.

Well, that explained how her personality was so accurate, yet she was willing to fight her teammates and hurt their progress through the shard. Delta truly thought she was helping, somehow. Rosalie was no expert on mental illusions, but she knew the basics; nothing could erase someone's mind and replace it with something else. Even this level of control was on the high end of effects, and it clearly worked by making the Possessed think she was working through the shard as if it was any other. Maybe Delta thought she was reducing the Curse.

Rosalie tried to muster a second protest, but she felt the shard's influence—its real influence. It clamped down on her, and her mouth snapped shut. Trying to talk Delta out of her mental influence counted as resisting, apparently, and since she had lost their fight earlier, it wouldn't let her. She might be able to break through, but she just didn't have the willpower thanks to those traitorous thoughts of hers.

"Anyway," the foxgirl said, her fox tail swishing in excitement as her previous confusion was happily dispelled. "I gave cutie a choice, so I'll give you one too. How do you wanna be fucked today, Princess?"

It was way more degrading being forced to choose. Which was definitely Delta's intent. She couldn't help but humiliate Rosalie at every turn … and she refused to admit how much she appreciated that.

"I-I won't say," she stammered, which definitely wasn't a proper refusal, and yet her mouth had said it anyway. It implied she had some ideas, just that her pride refused to say them.

"Yeah, kinda knew you wouldn't," Delta laughed. "Fine." She tapped Rosalie on the nose. "You're really obvious. I'll make some suggestions, and your body will answer for you." She reached out and pinched one of her nipples between two fingers, gently twisting enough to make Rosalie suck a gasp in. "Your body is a much worse liar than you, Princess, and you aren't a good liar to start with. Not when it comes to this."

"Get away from me," she moaned in one of the lewdest tones she'd ever heard on herself, which probably contradicted her request.

Delta frowned, then tutted. "Don't say something like that. Too much resisting would make this weird." She had pulled her hand away, and was now leaning in with an intent look in her eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

Ugh. Why did she have to ask that? Making her give permission.

Rosalie was overheating way too much to deal with this situation. When Delta leaned in, she had no choice but to close her eyes and lift her head up slightly, properly offering her lips to the foxgirl. But the kiss didn't come. She opened her eyes to see teasing red eyes; she'd pulled away, despite getting permission.

Indignation surged through her.

"Couldn't help myself," Delta laughed. Then she leaned back in, as if she really were about to kiss Rosalie, and Rosalie did the exact same thing: closed her eyes and offered herself again.

And again, the kiss didn't come. Now Rosalie really worked herself into an outrage.

Her complaint was cut off by the look on Delta's face. Fond, amused, and something softer. "Gods, but I love you," she murmured. "You're way too cute, Princess."

The words hit her like a lightning bolt. Even Delta paused as she realized what she'd said.

"Er, probably not the right time to say that sort of thing," she mused. "Oops. I've never been good with timing. But let's be real, it's been obvious for a while."

And then Delta did kiss her.

Rosalie was putty in her hands. She melted as the foxgirl crawled over top her and, starting gentle, worked into an enthusiastic tongue-fucking that soon had her hands joining the mix, groping with increasing fervency until a moan forced its way out of Rosalie's throat. At the noise, Delta surfaced, gasping for breath, and the softness in her eyes had disappeared—the predatory desire was back in full force.

"Alright, seriously though," Delta said. "It's time you get a proper fucking. I'll make a few suggestions, and you tell me what you like the sound of."