Shadow of the Huntress 2

The next couple of days passed in a surprising normalcy, especially considering I was a mercenary spy that had been tasked to infiltrate an ancient magical organization that employed supernatural warriors, not to mention I was supposed to do in a Thin Place, a location where the walls between dimensions had been damaged enough for all kind of creatures to enter. 

But somehow, my first couple of days had passed, untainted by any of them. Boredom was good. It allowed me to learn a lot about the school, from the balance between various student clicks to the best places to hide a body if necessary. 

I hadn’t completely avoided work in those two days of course. Why would I, when I had managed to identify the perfect target to infiltrate the inner circle of the Huntress? The same target that had been walking through the corridor with a great hurry to get the class on time, after one of her bullies delayed her by messing up her lock. 

Making sure the bullies increased the pressure had been trivial. A whisper there, an offhand comment there, and suddenly several self-important girls, still annoyed in their failure to get Allison in their little group, decided to take it out of Emma, who managed what they failed. Not all of their plans were successful, I had been careful to dismantle several of their plans, always making sure Emma noticed my help while looking like I was trying to stay hidden, subtly building a basis for trust. I had been hoping that it would be enough for her to talk. 

But apparently, she was too shy for it, hence the reason I was carefully waiting around the corner. I stepped forward just in time for her to yelp in panic, but not giving her enough time to stop, resulting in a text-book movie scene of sprawling books. “I’m sorry,” she exclaimed even as she tried to collect her juice-covered books -evidence of yet another bullying attempt-, though they were absent from her body. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal,” I said, waving it off as I helped to collect her books, giving me an excellent opportunity to let our fingers touch. Her gaze darted upwards at that moment, a cute blush fighting against shock. “It’s you,” she murmured in surprise. 

“How are you doing?” I answered. “Everything alright?” 

“Y-yeah,” she stammered. I let my gaze slid towards her ruined books, just long enough to convey that I was aware of the real state of affairs, but avoided saying anything. “It’s a bit difficult,” she admitted readily, her social anxiety doing most of the work. 

When I looked at her eyes, I had a deliberately-crafted expression of sincerity. “I understand that asking help is difficult,” I whispered her even as I gently grabbed her fingers, which made her blush hard. “But please, the next time you feel troubled, call my number. I promise that I’ll help.” 

She stopped for a second, her expression turning into an unfamiliar seriousness as she looked for any hint of insincerity. Unfortunately for her, I was well-trained enough not to let anything slip. “I will,” she said even as she nodded gently, her blush intensifying further. 

“See that you do,” I added even as I gently caressed her cheek before leaving, leaving her frozen behind. It was rather forward, but also necessary to break another barrier of intimacy between us. 

But the real ploy happened during the evening, right after her Gym class, happy to see Emma staying behind as the rest of the class went to the locker room, clearly trying to avoid the crowd. A happy development for my side, because my plan wouldn’t have worked if she went inside with the rest of them. 

Emma went in only after the rest of the girls left, and I sneaked a few minutes after, and stole all of her clothes. And to make things even more fun, I unlocked her phone using the password I had acquired earlier, and changed several of the recorded numbers, making sure that the people that she might call first, like Allison, had been replaced by a number that was going to ring busy. Then I left the locker room, ignoring the temptation to get a peek while she was in the shower. 

It was almost fifteen minutes later when my phone rang. “H-hello,” said a stammering voice from the other side, her shyness thick enough to have its own physical presence. 

“Emma,” I said in concern. “Is there something wrong?” 

“Yeah,” she murmured, but stayed silent until I prompted her to continue. “Someone took my clothes, while I was in the locker room,” she said, then continued with a whisper that I was barely able to decipher. “Can you help me?” 

“Sure, what do you need? Do you need me to reach someone,” I said. 

“N-no. I can’t reach my friends, so probably they are too busy to reach,” she explained. I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t ask me to go to their houses, after all, what if her friends were busy with something supernatural. “Can you get me some clothes from the storeroom, there should be some leftover from the sports teams.” 

“On it. Luckily, I’m still at school, so it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.” Of course, that was unnecessary, as I already picked some clothes for her, carefully to make them quite a bit of fun. 

Eight minutes later, I was knocking the door of the locker room. “Emma, it’s me, Rodnick, may I come in?” I called. 

“A minute!” called a panicked cry from the inside, and I only entered after receiving the affirmation. Once entered, I noticed the distinctive hair of Emma, peeking from the corner, her blush visible despite the distance. She pulled back when she saw me, and yelled. “You can drop the clothes on one of the benches." 

“Of course,” I called as I walked forward. “By the way, I’m sorry but these were the only ones that I was able to find, I hope they fit.” I know they wouldn’t, as I had carefully selected them to be barely enough to squeeze in, but still tight enough to look painted. After all, I didn’t her to just go back home after thanking. “I’ll be just outside if you need anything else.” 

It wasn’t exactly shocking when Emma didn’t say anything for the next ten minutes, though I heard a couple of panicked gasps. “Is everything okay,” I called. 

“Are you sure there was nothing else in the storage room.” 

“Not sure,” I called. “I’m not exactly familiar with the layout, but I probably missed something. But are you dressed?” I said, not wanting to let the tension drain through several trips between the locker room and the storage. 

“Y-yes, but-” she said, but I interrupted her explanation by opening the door, only to come to a sudden stop, an involuntary whistle escaped my lips. The reason, the way Emma was dressed, my selection creating a much better impact than I had been expecting. 

Her usual clothes included loose jeans and oversized sweaters, making me think that a chubby and slightly misshapen body lay underneath these fashion monstrosities. But dressed in a tight white shirt and a short plied skirt, I could see that just how mistaken I had been. 

She wasn’t thin by any sense of the word, but there was a huge difference between chubby and deliciously curvy, and she was firmly on the second camp. The white t-shirt stuck against her breasts, firm enough to stand deliciously curvy without a bra to support, a firmness she failed to hide completely even with both of her arms. The shirt was the correct length, but thanks to the extra curve forced in by her breasts, it was short enough to reveal a thin strip naked around her belly, showing a hint of muscle even, hinting some training with Allison. 

Things in the bottom half were even more entertaining. The cheerleader skirt I had picked her was the correct size, but it didn’t help much when it was designed to be worn with tights underneath and fly with the slightest movement, therefore leaving her thighs completely naked for my viewing pleasure. And what a pleasure it was. 

A shy gasp escaped her mouth as she realized I was frozen, examining her body, and in her panic, she had done something extremely ill-advised. She made a sudden turn, which made her cheerleader skirt rose just like it was designed to, giving me a fleeting view of her most secret place, a detail that she somehow missed in her chaotic state. 

“Come on, Emma, you don’t have anything to be ashamed off,” I said with a tone that conveyed my appreciation, a statement that she didn’t react to. “We need to leave before the school is closed.” 

“Maybe I should go to the library,” she said, her back still turned. 

It wasn’t something I wanted, as it was the operating center of the Huntress Allison and her Handler, which would have ruined my plan. “If you think so, if you think you can handle facing the students currently studying there,” I said, reminding her that her friends wouldn’t be the only ones in the library. 

“But using the bus while dressed like this would be even worse!” she exclaimed in panic, her posture slouching even further - which had the added benefit of pulling her skirt higher, once again giving a glimpse of her curvy ass, beautiful enough to deserve to be immortalized on a renaissance painting. 

“You’re right. Why don’t I drop you at your house? It’ll be for the best.”

That was enough to turn her back once more, but this time, with a pleading expression on her face. “You would do that?” she asked hopefully, unaware that there were very few men in the world that had the willpower to reject a request from her while she was dressed like that. 

“Why wouldn’t I,” I said with a shrug while keeping my eyes on her face. Earlier, I had shown her that I liked the way she looked, and now I was proving that I was gentlemanly enough to keep my gaze away from the spectacular view she had on display. “Let’s go, and I’ll walk in front of you to alert in case anyone walks by.” 

“Thanks,” she whispered, her embarrassment burying anything else. She picked up her bag, but I took it from her, offering to carry it, and we started walking. Much to my displeasure, we didn’t come across anyone on our walk, which would have given me an excuse to hide in a closet, though the small distance between the door and my car was more than enough to compensate. 

For once, the chilly weather stiffened her nipples until they were poking through the shirt rather distinctively. The second, in her hurry to reach the car, she was walking hurriedly, and her hands were on her skirt, trying to prevent an accident, but with limited success. Also, it left her breasts free to dangle with every step, a motion that was quite successful in convincing me to change my plans. 

With her attention focused to minimize the flesh she was revealing, it wasn’t exactly a challenge to swipe her house keys. When we arrived at my car -a modest secondhand device, nice enough to run without an issue, beaten down enough to avoid attention- I stood at the passenger side, opening the door for her. 

“Thanks,” she murmured as she stepped inside, her attention on her skirt to avoid any accidents, but failing to attain a complete success, giving me another small reward. When I took the driver’s side, her bag was already on her lap, preventing any more accidents, her arms crossed over her chest. 

We started talking after she described the directions to her house. I kept the discussion on non-consequential topics, her hobbies and such, wanting to help her feel comfortable around me, and even then, she had trouble joining the discussion, still too overwhelmed. “By the way, did you checked whether you have your keys,” I reminded her. 

“No,” her desolate reply came after a long and frantic digging through her bag. “What am I going to do!” 

“Hey, no need to panic. How about if we stop somewhere so you can shop,” I offered. She looked shocked at the suggestion, but I continued like I didn’t notice. “I’m sure we can find something more fitting from my wardrobe, maybe an old sweatshirt or something. Or maybe we can drive down to your friend, and you can see whether they are at home, if you don’t mind being seen by the neighbors in those.” 

The last part was enough to dissuade her from the last part, and we started driving. I stopped in front of a midscale brand, which was known more for their stylish evening wear. “Maybe we can drive down to another place,” she whispered. “This place is a bit out of my price range.” 

“Nonsense, it’s my treat,” I cut her off, amused by the way her eyes grew. It was obvious that she wasn’t comfortable with the idea, but also, she lacked the personality to push back against my strong statement, especially after all the help I had been giving her. When I opened her door with a pointed look, the only thing she could have done was to stand up. “Feel free to go directly to the dressing cabin, I’m going to pick something for you,” I added, and she nodded. 

Luckily for her, the store wasn’t exactly crowded. The saleswoman sent her a dissatisfied glare, not happy with the young woman dressed in a manner that was fit for a streetwalker, but Emma was already in the cabins before she could say anything, I waved off her concerns. Instead, I started walking around, picking a set of underwear for Emma. Luckily, thanks to her current clothes, I had a rather accurate idea about her size. 

Now, I needed to convince her to try some fun ones…