Ishara's Thinly Veiled Fetish

“Whhaaaaaat!” Rionriv screamed loud enough to wake the dead as her voice echoed like thunder into the distance. “What do you mean I have tiger ears and a tail now?!”

Immediately, the sorceress began to explore her person, or at least that was what I assumed she was doing. I had already preemptively been keeping my eyes on the ground, only seeing images of her nude body out of the corner of my vision. The blur that was her body moved its hands, reaching first for the top of her head.

“Eeep—!” Rionriv shrieked, feeling the soft tiger ears that remained atop her scalp.

Her hand then explored south, reaching for the swishing tail behind her. Expelling a gasp, the sorceress gripped at her bare hips before touching at her exposed breasts. In an instant, she covered her bare bosom with an arm, pointing the other in my direction as she released another cry.

“And I’m naked?! Iz! Turn around!”

Regardless of my respectfully averted eyes, I immediately obeyed. Though what had already been seen could not be unseen, a fact that my racing heart could attest to.

No, calm down, breathe. I thought to myself, grabbing at my chest in a failing attempt at calm. Be strong. Behave in the face of your thinly veiled catgirl fetish. But she's. SO. CUTE! GAHHH! Nooo.

“Yeah, sorry,” I responded to her order, taking an about-face while trying to play the situation coolly. “B-but you’re feeling alright…right? The magic healed your wounds enough?”

“I’m in one piece, but you definitely DID NOT heal me right. I’m still partially a weretiger!” She grumbled as the sounds of shuffling filled the space. “Where’s my spare set of travel clothes? I know I packed them. Ugh—fine, this will do.”

I carefully turned around, catching Rionriv as she slipped on the flowy sky-blue dress she had picked up in Squalls Crossing. I stealthily admired the tiny pink-and-white flowers sewn into the fabric and the way the blue pigment complemented the tips of her hair. Watching as she pulled her red mane from beneath the cloth, allowing it to fall into place over her shoulders, I felt my heart skip a beat once more.

She sighed, looking over the summer dress and thick leather travel boots with a none-too-pleased expression.

“This is dumb. I could have sworn I brought my spare set of clothing. The last thing I want is to ruin the new dress I just got.”

“Do you want a pair of mine?” Aesandoral asked, lifting her bottomless bag. "I know I have my set."

“Don’t think that’ll work,” Rionriv responded, pointing between hers and Aesandoral’s sizable bust difference. “Anyways, if my nice dress gets ruined, Iz will have to buy me a new one.”

“Wait, what?” I now stepped back into the conversation. “What did I do to need to buy you a dress?”

“You’re the boss, right? Isn’t that part of the whole compensation aspect? I’m a freaky weretiger now because of this stupid side quest, so you owe me.”

“Okay, that’s fair. And because of that, I’ll buy you a lycanthropy antidote when we get back to the shop. But, that said, we just made so much money…go buy yourself a new dress.”

Rionriv huffed at the thought and, with an agitated swish of her new tail, began to march back to her tent. Deciding not to bother with breakfast, our group quickly tore down the campsite and, with a rushed energy, moved with purpose away from the weretiger territory. As we returned to the road, we continued forward with our journey, following the well-worn path that now threaded the Greybrine Lakes.

This area of the map was home to the only large open-water source in Moal'aw and was one of the more treacherous places to travel through. Even though the lake itself was closer in salinity to the ocean, it was still inhabited by all manner of ferocious beasts keen to ambush inattentive passersby. This, unfortunately, made for a slow day of travel. With the road being a meandering mess between the two largest lakes and lined by the murky waters of the wetland, we were forced to keep our vigilant gazes outward and our conversations to a minimum.

But this wasn't the only problem, because over the course of the trip through this hazardous terrain, my attention had become split. I spent as much time looking for threats as I did glancing towards Rionriv. With every slight gust that rolled through the cattails, I glanced the sorceress’ way for no other reason than to watch her dress blow gently in the wind. Whenever the air playfully tossed her hair, I observed as she anxiously fiddled with her tiger ears and felt where her human ones had become a seamless part of her hairline. 

Occasionally, I caught sight of her tail, which poked through the carefully cut hole in the dress back, as it would sway wildly when she looked around. The new wild and excitable extension seemed to betray her outwardly steely personality, easily revealing when she was startled or curious. I smiled at the sight of her reaching back in increasingly failing attempts to tame it. And it was in these times that she would catch me looking at her, often with a smirk on my face.

“What?” She would ask me, presenting herself as annoyed while her tail revealed a timid curiosity.

“Nothing.” I would reply coyly, looking away as I tried to calm my racing heart.

"Well, stop!" The sorceress would then finish with a pout, directing my gaze away from her. "Focus on the swamp!"

Obeying without question, I looked away until the next gust came through and the opportunity to repeat the interaction presented itself. Rionriv may have hated her new look, but my own desires took hold of me. I found it cute to behold. Over the last few months, I had gotten so accustomed to the tough and commanding Rionriv that the new, awkward tiger-girl in a sundress caused my heart to flutter.

She’s so cute, I should tell her. I thought throughout the day, my emotions slowly wearing me down.

But something still ate away at me through all of this. A familiar feeling that hadn't happened in the days since the dungeon, settling me into a false sense of security. Here, as I looked at her beautiful form and the feline ears that rested at the top of her head, I couldn't help but feel the dam within my mind begin to warp and strain. Somewhere, locked away beneath the walls Phyllis had erected on my behalf, was a memory that the mere sight of Rionriv in her current form threatened to release. Both a blessing and a curse, my racing heart would warn me of just how close I was treading towards the breaking point before I'd regain control.

Doing my best to hide the thoughts away, I'd follow up my lecherous desires with reprimands like—Ah, oh no. My thinly veiled fetish—and—I can't have a trauma stroke in the middle of crocodile territory! But these didn't make the distractions easier to handle, and as the day dragged on, I felt myself becoming even more attracted to Rionriv than I had already been. 

This only led to more conflicted feelings, as through my glances, I would catch Aesandoral peeking at me. Her beautiful face bashfully looked my direction before turning away with reddened cheeks.

Gah! My mind raced, looking between both sisters as they marched before me. An elf and a catgirl. My top two fantasy girl types! And they're sisters! One likes me, and I kind of like her, but the other hates me and is just plain hot. Why is my story world doing this to me!

The torture would continue to tear away at me all the way to the other side of the lakes, and into the early afternoon. Without any more conflict for the day, we eventually found ourselves far enough away from the swamp to find comfort in our next campsite. We chose a location amongst the rolling hills beyond the lakes, far enough off the path to guarantee privacy, before setting up a much more condensed campsite this time. After all, we had learned from our last encounter that a spaced campsite, while better concealed, had its disadvantages, with the main one being that it separates us in the event of a late-night fight.

It was then, later in the evening after a supper of deconstructed burritos and before we bedded down, that I approached Rionriv.

“Hey, Ri,” I called out, approaching her just before she began to crawl into her tent, and I was to go on watch.

“What?” She turned towards me.

Rionriv’s face seemed upset by the interruption, but her tail had created a question mark as her ears perked up. I inadvertently smiled as I noted these subconscious reactions that betrayed her hardened expression.

“Oh, I just wanted to say I’ll do whatever I can to help you cure your weretiger curse. Promise.”

I paused for a moment, rubbing at the back of my neck as I looked down bashfully. My heart began to race. Even though I felt the dam swelling and threatening to burst, I wanted to compliment her. I needed to say something. So, with finesse, I chose my next words carefully.

“And I know you hate the ears and tail, but—umm, I just wanted to let you know that I think you wear them well. And—you, um, look really cute.”

Rionriv’s tail reached up to a sharp point as I watched her expression shift. It was hard to tell in the dim light cast by the campfire, but I believed I saw the faint hint of blush against her dark cheeks. She smiled softly, looking down, brushing some hair behind where her human ears once rested. And that was when I felt something stir inside me. Not the dam threatening to burst, but something more. Something carnal and eager to reveal itself on the outside of my body, too.

“I—uh, goodnight!” I laughed awkwardly before rushing back to the campfire, where I adjusted my tightening pants.

Shit. Shit. Shit. No. Behave! Behave! Down boy!

The three watches over the night passed without issue, and after a pleasant breakfast to start our day, we began the final leg of our trip to Fallowfield. The mood was sombre by this point, as reality had set in with Rionriv that the previous day had not been a bad dream, and the ears and tail were there to stay for a while longer. Anxiously, she grabbed at them, trying to hide them away as she complained with Aesandoral and Sharzin about how they felt. With the occasional glance in my direction, I could tell that my words to the sorceress had done more harm than good. She eyed me with frustrated glares, holding her tail tight so as not to give away any better understanding, before turning back to her sister. 

I couldn’t help but wonder if I had said more to Sharzin the night of the attack, if our group could have been better prepared for the ambush. As if my words would have given her more time to consider and prepare, thus passing the information down to Aesandoral. But as I slipped into these spirals, I would gently shake my head before reminding myself that what was done was indeed done, and in an attempt to be better, I tried not to hold onto the unnecessary regret. Instead, I filed the thoughts away and promised to make it up to Rionriv somehow.

We arrived late afternoon on the third day in the town of Fallowfield. It was a small, wild-west-looking town similar in design to Dwindlefyre. Unlike the port I had grown used to over the last few months, this small location was mainly a place for travellers passing through on their way between the Capital Cities. As such, there were few amenities except the necessities of food and rest, which could be found mostly in one location: The Spotted Lettuce Bed and Bar. This establishment was one of the oldest buildings in the town and had been functioning as an inn, bar, and public hall since the Two-Generation War.

"Let's grab a room at the Spotted Lettuce," I remarked as we entered on the main road, looking towards the center of town where figures loitered around the structure in question. "And from there, go on to The Bread and Crumble."

"The what?" Aesandoral asked.

"T-the bakery Basil Seed runs?" I remarked, looking over at her. "Have you been taking your pills? You seem to be forgetting a lot these last few days."

"I-It's been a lot lately." Aesandoral pouted as she scrunched her face and turned away from me. "Sorry, Iz."

Oh no, did I upset her?

"N-Nothing to be sorry about, Aes. I just wanted to be sure."

"Hmph—" She replied, hooking an arm around Rionriv before glancing back at me. "We'll get the rooms booked. You two worry about the bakery."

I watched as the sisters quickly departed, leaving Sharzin and me behind at the edge of town. As they departed, my mind swirled, wondering what I could have done wrong to have instilled such a response from the typically timid Aesandoral. With a glance over to the rogue, she stared at the retreating girls before looking back to me.

"Geeze, Iz," The groundling huffed as she reached over and patted my back. "Stop being so mean to Aes."

"What?!" The word burst from my lips. "I-I'm not! I was just asking!"

"Mmmhmmm—bullying."

"Sharzin! Take that back! I am not bullying, Aes. I was just asking if she was—"

"Yeah, that's what a bully would say."

"Gah! I can't with you. Come on, let's go to the bakery."

Passing weathered homes and closing shops, we eventually rounded a final corner and saw the one other notable establishment in Fallowfield. Of all the buildings, it appeared the most well-maintained, which still wasn’t saying much. The pale rose exterior was worn by the sun, and the glass lining the front appeared caked with dust and grime. But what it lacked in appearance, it made up for in other forms. This was The Bread and Crumble Patisserie, owned and operated by the Seed family for nearly twenty years.

The closer we got to the shop, the more we became overwhelmed by the wonderful smells of baked goods wafting out of the half-open Dutch door. Now standing in front of the building's large glass windows, I could see the delicious-looking and well-picked-over sweets. But, luckily, we weren’t there for late-night treats. We had come strictly for business.