Crossroads Troll (2): Della's Secret Hobby
Della Brita. With her barley-field blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, balanced figure, and kind, gentle smile, she captivated the gazes of every man. She worked as a waitress at the Crossroads Troll inn here in Rosens.
Her duties included serving in the hall, milking cows, washing dishes, cleaning, kitchen assistance, and deliveries. She handled all the little tasks that Bertrand couldn't personally oversee with meticulous care.
Before coming here, she'd worked as a waitress at the Horizon's Mist inn in Bue. To be precise, she'd toiled without pay under the innkeeper, Avi. But Avi, a gambling addict, had racked up debts everywhere, forcing the inn into illegal prostitution on the side. And Della, who had just turned of age that year, was pushed into selling her body.
Her first customer came dressed in a deeply plunging top, a short skirt that fully exposed her hips, and garter belts. It was Bertrand. When she asked if he wanted to buy her virginity, he recoiled in disgust, shoved money into her hand, and chased her off. That was how their fates intertwined.
Bertrand stormed into the office of a sleazy loan shark called Rat and wiped out Della's share of the debt. From then on, she followed him here and started working for him.
"Della! Idi! Time to eat!"
"Yes!"
As Bertrand called out while bringing food from the kitchen, Della, who had been cleaning the guest rooms, leaned over the upstairs railing and replied.
Della hurried down the stairs, took the plates from Bertrand's hands, and carried them to their usual dining table by the fireplace.
"Whoa! What's this?"
"Paella. Tried cooking rice with all this stuff in it."
Della swallowed hard at the sight of the moist, fluffy rice loaded with mussels, shrimp, and assorted vegetables.
"Smells amazing! Bet it's delicious."
She took a big spoonful, tasted it, and stomped her feet in delight.
"It's so good!"
"This is my first time trying something like this..."
Idwild nodded in agreement between mouthfuls.
Della loved Bertrand's cooking. It was tasty, for one thing, but she also cherished hearing his voice call her to eat. Sitting across from him like this was nice, and so was when he poured water into her empty glass.
Della liked Bertrand. He was handsome, had a calm voice, wasn't much of a talker, but when he did speak, he came across as a good person. Sure, he was stingy about money, but Della still liked him.
The new black mage working at the inn, Idwild, was supposedly an old friend of Bertrand's. When Della asked her about him, Idwild hesitated and didn't give full details, but she said he was kind and gentle. Terrifying when he got scary, but wonderful if you didn't piss him off.
I think so too, Idi. The boss is a really good person. Someone I want to stay by forever.
Lately, Della had picked up a naughty habit. It started the night Hildeva the administrator and Bertrand were drinking.
Standing outside the guest room door, eavesdropping on their antics, Della impulsively rubbed her thighs together. A strange sensation washed over her, making her feel good.
She had no idea what it was. But it definitely felt nice, so afterward, she did it whenever she got the chance. Not recklessly, though.
Mostly when talking to Bertrand, or after accidental physical contact, or when he crossed her mind—she'd sneak off somewhere and do it in secret.
Today, watching Bertrand scribble on paper at a hall table, she pressed her thighs against the bar corner, rubbing discreetly so no one would notice.
"Hmmm..."
She let out a sigh-like sound and carefully wiped the sweat beading on her forehead.
"Hey, Della."
"Y-yes? Coming!"
At Bertrand's call, Della quickly pulled away from the bar and rushed over.
"Take this and check how much ingredients we have left."
"O-okay... Got it."
"Something's on your skirt."
Della looked down at his pointing, spotting a slightly darkened patch where she'd rubbed against the bar.
"S-sorry...!"
"No need to apologize or anything..."
Della snatched the paper from his hand and bolted to the ingredient storeroom.
Phew... That was close...
Once a week, Della fetched steaming hot water in a bucket and headed to the open yard. Bertrand gave her the water and told her to clean the statue in the center.
Grunting, she set the bucket down before the statue and looked up at it.
Idi had cast some mysterious spell on it to make it move on its own. But since it was black magic, it emitted bad energy, so she had to wipe it down weekly with this water.
Della didn't know much about black magic and wasn't particularly interested. Fearlessly, she scooped water with a small ladle and poured it over the statue.
The statue, a perfect likeness of Bertrand, got drenched, water dripping from the tips of its hair.
For a moment, Della stared blankly at the figure so eerily like her boss. The serene, deep eyes, the straight nose and lips reflecting an upright character. The beautifully sculpted muscles and broad shoulders.
"Ah...!"
Snapping out of it, Della doused the whole statue and scrubbed every inch with a sponge.
As she removed the towel around its lower body to clean the important parts, her hands slowed.
Glancing around to confirm no one was watching, she gripped the pillar of its manhood bare-handed.
It was impossibly thick—couldn't even wrap one hand around it—and hung down to its knees. Idi had said the size was exaggerated for balance, but that implied this was close to the real thing when reduced.
Della had never seen the real thing up close in her life. She fondled it this way and that, letting her imagination run wild.
"Della...! Boss—er, the master—says to hurry back...!"
"Y-yes!"
Idwild's shout from the inn made Della jolt away, her hand flying off. She hastily retied the towel over the statue's lower half.
Etching one last look at its majestic form, Della grabbed the bucket and scurried back to the inn.
After the inn closed for the night, Della studied late into the hours. She pored over books on accounting, tax law, and inn management, scribbling away with her pen.
One day, when her father died, she'd inherit the inn and have to run it. Bertrand had promised to clear all the debts by then... For now, with Avi debt-free, he might gamble again, so Bertrand holding the debts was smart.
Our boss is so wise. Always sees far ahead, cuts to the core of problems. If Dad had been like him, Mom wouldn't have died so tragically... If I married someone like the boss...
Suddenly, an impure urge swept over Della again.
She glanced behind her. Their shared room had beds against each wall; Idwild slept in one.
Confirming Idwild was out cold, Della stretched her legs under the desk and began rubbing her thighs together gently.
Hot heat rose in her groin, a ticklish pleasure blooming.
"Hnn..."
She sighed through pursed lips, rubbing faster.
The boss is sleeping right on the other side of this wall...
That thought made sweat trickle behind her ears, her breathing ragged.
Then, an eerie voice came from behind.
"Della... What're you doing...?"
Della froze, chills running down her spine.
She turned her head stiffly, like a broken machine.
Idwild sat up in bed, her black hair cascading down, staring at Della.
She thought she was asleep... Why...?
Feeling cold sweat trickle down her back, Della stammered.
"Wh-why... aren't you sleeping...?"
"Heard some noise... woke me up..."
"Sorry... I'll be quiet... Go back to sleep..."
But Idwild didn't lie down. She slipped out of bed and stood.
Already plump and shadowy, standing beyond the candlelight, she looked even darker.
She approached without a sound.
Did she catch me...?
Della's mouth went dry.
Idwild loomed right beside her, looking down.
Staring into those hollow, ghostly pale eyes, Della felt like bursting into tears.
"Della..."
"Y-yes...?"
Idwild leaned in slowly, bringing her mouth to Della's ear.
And whispered... whispered...
Della flinched at first, then her eyes widened in shock.
"There's a way... using your hands...?"
Idwild kept whispering.
"Your breasts... Yeah... Lie down, spread your legs... Oh..."
Della was engrossed in the revelations she'd never heard before.
"Wash your hands... before doing it..."
Having imparted her knowledge, Idwild straightened up.
"As a mage... you know so much..."
Idwild said nothing, drifting back to bed like smoke.
"I'm going to sleep now... Don't mind me..."
With that, she pulled up the covers and turned to the wall.
Della watched her a moment, then turned back to her desk.
She gathered her wits and reopened her book.
Soon, she noticed she'd scribbled Bertrand's name countless times on her paper. She shot up from her chair, dashed out the door, and into an empty guest room.
The next day, as the staff ate together, Bertrand rubbed his temples.
"Did anyone hear weird noises last night?"
"Weird noises?"
"Like... banshee wails or something. Kept me from sleeping... Huh? Della?"
Bertrand eyed Della oddly. She sat rigid, spoon dropped on the floor.
"What's up?"
"N-nothing..."
Della picked up the spoon and sneaked a glance at Idwild.
But the gloomy black mage just slurped her soup, utterly unfazed.
"This is my first time trying something like this..."
"What haven't you tried for the first time?"
Watching Idwild and Bertrand, Della resolved to be more careful.
If I'm quiet, no one will notice...
Della was very careful from then on. She never got caught again.
At least, not for a few months.