Chapter 142

Inside the next challenge room was a bed, and a simple mural detailing their assigned task.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen dungeon imagery that’s quite so ... explicit,” Ana commented.

Natalie stared, feeling faint, at the picture engraved above the exit door.

“And at least it provided a bed,” Ana added.

“Really,” Natalie said. “That’s what you have to say? ‘At least there’s a bed’?”

“It is a nice gesture.”

Natalie glared at Ana, who shrugged back.

Natalie’s eyes returned to the mural. She fought away a surge of dizziness. So. This was really happening, then?

Above the door, engraved in simple imagery without much detail, was a crude scene: one woman on her knees, her mouth wrapped around the cock of another woman. As Ana had said, it was quite explicit—making it clear what their task was.

Or, more accurately, Natalie’s task. Because she wasn’t the one with the cock, anymore. Ana was.

“You realize that’s my cock,” Natalie said. “You expect me to do that?”

“You could think of it as mine, if you prefer,” Ana said. “If that makes you more comfortable.” She shrugged. “Or yours. Whichever feels better. Both are true, in a sense.”

Natalie stared at her, and Ana cleared her throat.

“Of course, I expect nothing,” Ana said. “We can leave at any time. But I would be remiss if I didn’t point out just how incredible the potential rewards are. Is sucking your own cock that offputting?” Ana tilted her head. “Or sucking my cock. Like I said, whatever you feel more comfortable with.”

Gods, but this woman was really still unaffected. She’d taken the mural, and their task, completely in stride. There might actually be nothing that phased her.

Well. She wasn’t completely unaffected. Ana was unashamedly sprouting an eight-inch erection. Natalie’s eyes flicked to it. Her cock. Her cock. And she was supposed to suck it?

Off-putting, Ana had said. No, unfortunately, that wasn’t what Natalie felt, right now. She was as embarrassed by the situation she was in—and Ana’s matter-of-factness—as she was by just how much the idea excited her. Sucking her own cock shouldn’t have her stomach squirming like it did. It was an obscenely lewd act.

So, she wouldn’t be sucking her own. She would be sucking Ana’s. That was the easier of the two options.

Ana’s cock.

Oh, gods. Was it, though? The idea set her on fire just as much as the alternative—sucking her own. And her brain knew that she was doing both; her delusions could only comfort her so much.

“Can’t you have the grace to at least blush,” Natalie groaned. “I’m about to suck your cock, and you’re telling me how it’s the practical decision?”

“I don’t blush easily,” Ana said. “But if it makes you feel better, I can assure you I’m looking forward to it for less practical reasons, too.” She tilted her head. “Would you prefer for this to be more intimate? I assumed you would want to keep things professional.”

Natalie buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t do this. Ana was way too clueless.

Well, yes, she could, and would, but Ana wasn’t making it easy.

“Okay,” Natalie said. “Whatever. Let’s just get through this.” Squashing down her nervousness—the squirming in her stomach—she walked to Ana, then got down onto her knees.

Putting her face level with Ana’s erect cock.

Her own erect cock.

It twitched in excitement.

“We do have a bed, you know,” Ana said. “It’d be more comfortable.”

Natalie ignored her. She stayed frozen, staring wide-eyed at the pulsing, veiny member sprouting from between Ana’s legs. She shivered as the scent hit her. Musky and sweaty, a thick, heady smell from a day’s worth of adventuring. Her stomach clenched in need.