Divinity Rescue Corps
122- Spectral Style

I have to say, when you wake up to one sexy, interested, nude partner and staring at another sexy, nude being, you’d have to concede that life is good. Especially when you’re surrounded by at least five other sexy, interested partners, who might or might not be nude presently.

Vellenia, Regina, Tara, Ivy, Isabelle, Shakindria, Cinzy… oh, and Fairy Poppins as well. And probably Jacoby. She had watched me get my freak on with Vellenia, and while her interest was focused mostly on Vellenia, it was watching my cute water fairy take it deep and hard in the middle of the woods.

Yes, life was good. I mean, there was the nagging question of how to handle Shakindria being unable to leave the town, enforced by a magical bond, but that was not the question of the day. It still struck me as super unfair, that she’d done so much work to free the people who held her captive when she didn’t have to, but again, not the question of the day.

Vellenia, the first sexy, interested, nude partner, currently held my throbbing member and nuzzled my neck while the other sexy, interested, nude potential partner, Larelle, snoozed nearby. I could have sworn Vellenia was about to tell me that Larelle needed me. She was going to tell me it was okay, and she’d like to watch… maybe participate, and show Larelle how it was done because she was something of an exhibitionist.

Instead she flipped the script on the one member of my team I hadn’t considered in the last few minutes, and the one who had expressed the most need to me.

“You need to attend to Chrysta,” Vellenia said.

An image of a desperate Chrysta appeared in my mind. Quiet, rock steady Chrysta, the thin ghostly Nakamamon Guardian. She had done her job without complaint, never mentioned rations or the taste of the food as cooked by the least capable among us—me—never challenging my commands, always being the bedrock upon which the team stood. Beautiful Chrysta, with her powder blue and white body, her thick four-fingered hands, her extra arms, her transparent lower half, and her aura of freezing cold. Forlorn Chrysta, who hadn’t known the touch of a living person until days ago when I had used Adaptability to make myself more intangible and spectral, and her less.

Vellenia wanted me to seek out Chrysta.

“This one clearly wants to be with you and needs the touch only you can supply. Please give her that.”

Although I was confused about why my bond mate might want to have me mate with yet another partner, I didn’t question it. Vellenia had been in the camp with the other team members for most of the time while I’d been in town shagging Shakindria, and that meant most likely she’d picked up information that I could only guess at. She also had some of the fairy empathy powers.

On the walk over, I went through a few of the notifications and tried to pare down the ones I didn’t need. I had actually leveled up to 27 as a Healer, and only realized it in the aftermath of the momentous day of putting the God of Productivity back together.

Level 27: +12 skill points

I gave a low whistle, but soon reached Chrysta’s house. I could afford to wait on these skill points. Instead I got down to the business of satisfying whatever itch Shakindria thought I should scratch.

The reason for my visit became clear right off the bat.

“Knock knock,” I said, knocking on the already-open door, and peeked my head in. The door was wide open, resting against the other wall. Chrysta, like Larelle, didn’t see the point in having them, or locking them if the weather was nice.

The house itself was sparse; Chrysta didn’t own anything. She didn’t eat, hardly slept, and needed no creature comforts. Aside from the standard stone creations Trent had left as basic furniture, there was nothing. The sofa, easy chairs, ottoman, end tables and coffee tables were essentially all blocks of stone, and the bedroom contained a slab of rock to function as a bed frame that she never used.

No sleeping bag, no pillow, no clothing… no clothing. Vellenia preferred not to wear clothing. I realized that some of the bits of Chrysta I took for clothes were just part of her body. She was nude, all the time.

Chrysta hung in the air in the living space, visible from the waist up, though I would’ve said she had her legs crossed in a meditative posture. Affinity told me they were there. Her eyes had been closed, but they opened and regarded me.

“Fletcher,” she said. “What brings you here?”

What was I going to tell her? I blurted out the quickest explanation I could think of, “Just checking to see your divinity poisoning doesn’t spread.” Did that sound as stupid as I thought it did? Why was I so concerned with appearing stupid?

It was, of course, the old high school and college Fletcher still at work in my mind. Why would anyone want him? He had a physical disability. Those were ugly.

“It is well. Your craftsmanship is superb. I am thankful for your support and attention.”

With a little coaxing, I got her to make herself visible from the legs down, and I was able to see that the golden splotch from the god’s vomit had indeed receded most of the way, but was still faintly visible. Her legs were slim and pretty, tapering down to feet that didn’t have toes.

“Actually, I just wanted to see how you are.”

“I am…” she trailed off. The naked look she turned on me was not a positive one, honestly. Her eyes reflected uncertainty. “I am… not well, Fletcher.”

“What’s going on?” I placed a hand on hers.

“Ever since making contact with you, I have missed it. That touch, the feeling… you cannot understand until you too have been a ghost.” She stared down at my hand, and where it made contact with hers.

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “If you like I can make time for you more often.”

She seemed to be rendered speechless at this. “It hurts…”

“I can also leave you alone if you would prefer that.”

But she was quick to clarify. “It hurts to be without a connection.” She took my hand in hers and stared down at it. “You and I… kissed.” She said this as though it had happened to another person, or in a time long, long ago.

“We did,” I confirmed. “It was nice. I hope you don’t have any regrets, because I certainly don’t.”

The space now seemed charged. She stared at my lips, and at her edges she went transparent.

I should have closed the door. I considered escorting her to my house, where the conditions were more homey and comfy.

“I would like to kiss you again, Expedition Leader.”

She brought her face close, and the cold helped me to remember I had skill points. I thought to pump two of my Healer skill points into Adaptability and Pheromones. I promised myself I would put two of my Pleasure Seeker points back into Healer skills when I next leveled.

“What a coincidence,” I breathed, “I’d like to kiss you too.”

“Often,” she added, before moving forward to bridge that gap.

I wanted to tell her that it was fine, and also that I had other partners. I needed to tell her that I couldn’t be her one and only, but she knew. She knew I had Vellenia. She probably knew about the others also. She wasn’t a fool.

Her lips pressed against mine, soft and insistent, before she moaned.

The cold had receded. Warmth hadn’t replaced it, but a darkness. It was difficult to explain; the lust and arousal I was feeling deepened with the Adaptability changing my body.

I was going ghostly.

Chrysta’s lips pressed against mine, and when she nibbled at my top lip, she let out a spooky and horny sound no human could’ve made. She licked at my lips with an ethereal tongue at the same time she straddled my body.

“What is this?” she whispered, staring into my eyes.

Chrysta’s face was ice blue, her eyes huge, black and glossy. Seeing my own face reflected in them, I noted that I was now partially transparent.

“I have Adaptability,” I explained lamely. Instead of going on, I ran my hands over her coltish, invisible thighs. They were springy and pert, as were her hips and her waist. I could nearly encircle her whole body with both hands; only a few inches remained between my thumbs and the tips of my fingers.

“Ohhh,” she said, and seemed to get it. A moment later she had my head hugged in a tight embrace, and was rubbing her body up and down over mine, and my face. She hugged against me and cooed.

I wasn’t taking damage… yet. The moment I did, I engaged Healer’s Resistance and grabbed up a bit of permanent damage resistance to whatever I was feeling with a single Durability Token. Then I engaged Pheromones and gave three levels of Adaptability to Chrysta.

The effect was immediate: the pain vanished, and Chrysta became fully visible for about the third time in our several months together. Her thighs were a snowy color, tinged with a hint of blue, and had an almost imperceptible crystalline pattern over her skin.

Chrysta gasped in surprise, amazement, pleasure, and froze for a moment before understanding set in.

She continued to rub herself up and down over my face, moaning loudly.

“Fletcher,” she gasped. “It feels… I feel…”

“Me too,” I told her. I assumed she was going to say ‘amazing’ or ‘wonderful.’

“I can feel again. Oh… it has… been… ohhh… so long…”

I kneaded her butt cheeks and ran my hands up and down her thighs, her butt once again, and then the whole length of her back. At the same time, her breasts rubbed over my face and I stuck out my tongue to get at them as they passed. Just that sensation set her off, and she was soon crying out as the pleasure built. Nipples appeared immediately, frosty blue in color, but just as flexible and nice as those on the living.

She came after only a minute like this, halting and shivering at just the right height for me to get my mouth on her nipple.

I was neither cold nor warm, but instead possessed of a powerful lust that made me want to do… things. Dirty things. Wrong things. My spectral body meant I was part ghost, and the loss of physical sensation brought out something strange in me.

When I pressed at the junction of her thighs with one and then two fingers, and she opened to accept, I also pressed against her back door with my other hand. I was rewarded with more gasps, more cries of pleasure, and more of Chrysta writhing against me.

“Fletcher!” she called out. “Fletcherrrrrrr…”

“I’m here,” I told her, grinning with satisfaction. Her body was clenching against my fingers. She grabbed my head and jammed her tongue in my mouth from above to keep from screaming out. Her whole body pumped up and down several more times into my fingers, then froze as another powerful orgasm swept through her. The seconds passed, and I kept slowly pushing my fingers into both available holes, while she clutched my head to her chest and went through one orgasmic shudder after another.

“Un… believable…” she groaned after it was done, then kissed me several more times. “I must… repay you… your kindness.”

“Helping you is all the reward I need,” I told her, though I was painfully hard and the oddness of becoming somewhat ghostly made the words difficult to force out. This part of me wanted to satisfy all my wants, no matter what they were, using her body.

Some of those desires were twisted and wicked: I wanted to do was slap my cock against her cheek again and again, then take hold of her head and fuck her face until she was choking and crying. This dark part of me wanted to put a collar around her neck and attach a leash to it, then parade Chrysta around the camp on all fours for the others to see. This part of me wanted to make her beg for the dirtiest things I could do to her. Pummel her hard from behind while telling her how worthless she was. Spank her ass while I drilled her asshole. Tie her up and force her to watch me please other women with gentleness and kindness I wouldn’t show her. Make her grovel at my feet.

Another part of me wanted to simply satisfy myself with her body. Pull her back and forth on my shaft, uncaring whether she felt good from it. So long as I came, what did it matter? Mouth? Yes. Both other orifices? Either worked.

The human part of me knew this wasn’t right, but right now I wasn’t all human. Part of me knew she didn’t deserve to be treated like this, and part of me didn’t care.

I stood; she weighed nothing in my arms. Kissing her, I felt every ridge and bump inside her inhuman mouth, loved the desperation in her cold exhalations. When I came to the wall, I pushed her against it harder than necessary. Was she blissed out at the feeling of a cold stone wall pressing up against her back? I didn’t care, but instead shoved myself up into her impossibly tight hole.

Chrysta had ridges coming off the top of her head, and she placed my hands there. “Pull,” she told me. I did, forcing her to look at the ceiling.

“Harder,” she ordered, while shoving herself down onto my cock.

This time when I pulled, she grunted and arched her back. Pushing her breasts out at me, making her growl deep in her throat.

“Hard,” she breathed, staring up but not seeing. Her eyes fluttered. “I want it hard.”

I gave it to her, hard. In the meantime I kissed and nipped at the skin of her neck, her ears, around her collar bone.

She came. Again, crying out and scratching at my back. It wasn’t two arms that were holding onto me, but four. No, more. So I rocked her world and reveled in the dark pleasure I was getting.

Howling, she clawed at my back and left wounds there. For my part, I rutted into her like it was my job. Nibbles at her neck when I wanted to bite.

“Yesssss,” she shouted, and I clamped a hand down over her mouth, only to have her bite it. I stared at the ectoplasm welling from my fingers and hand, and slapped her forcefully. “Yes, Fletcher… hurt me.”

Instead, with one hand around her throat, I began to apply pressure. Even as my thrusts never stopped, I began choking her. She couldn’t choke, of course. A rasping sound came out of her, though, somehow. She came again, rasping out my name over and over. What a massive ego boost.

When I came, it was all over her face. I pulled out and shoved her down onto her knees, exploding all over her upturned face and open mouth. The look on there was so full of bliss, so checked out from the world that it made me want to do even dirtier things.

For me, the post-nut clarity was real: the special ability boosted all my stats and gave me even higher resistance to what was happening, and a higher Ingenuity to figure out what I’d just done.

“Are you all right?” I asked. “Did I hurt you?”

She sat there in a puddle of her own juices, knees dirty on the floor and hair soaked with my seed. Her expression had gone distant, dazed, but I noticed her hands clutched onto my thighs to keep the Pheromones and the Adaptability from diminishing.

At last, she licked her lips and said, “I’m… amazing.” Her eyes fixed on my softening cock. “I feel almost alive.”

“Can we do it again? Harder this time?”

And this was how, three minutes later, I was grinding her face into the stone of the bed and slamming my hips down into hers, while she begged me to do it harder. Alternating spanking her ass and slipping a thumb in there. She wanted to feel the cold stone of her house pressed over her whole body? I could do that. She wanted to have me slam myself into her tiny body again and again, scraping her back and forth against the stone, she wanted to be choked and spanked and slapped. And finally, she wanted to open her mouth and get a face full of my improved load.

I gave her all this, and she wiped my seed all over her body, sliding her legs together to feel it, pressing her hands against her breasts to feel it, grinding her ass against the floor to feel it.

To feel something, at long last.

This is Christopher about to feel very conflicted for the rest of the day.