Why does Ashe dress the way she does?

by memoriestaken

Summary:

Vaan finally confronts Ashe about what everyone has been thinking.

After leaving Ondore’s manor and discussing plans to restore Ashe’s birthright as Queen of Dalmasca, the party found themselves back on the streets of the Skycity of Bhujerba. They then went their separate ways to prepare for the journey to the Tomb of Raithwall in the days ahead. Vaan took off to do some gear shopping.

Vaan is 19 in this story.

 

Vaan was just leaving the blacksmith when he saw Ashe approaching up the alleway. She walked with purpose as she always did, though stilted and somewhat awkwardly. 

Vaan gave a meek smile and put a hand up to wave, then swung it behind him to rub the back of his head. He never knew what to expect from Ashe, and after recently learning she was of Dalmascan royalty, he didn’t quite know how to act around her either.

Although her status as Princess would remain a closed secret to the public, heads still turned as she passed swiftly by. 

 

Royalty or not, Ashe commanded attention.

 

Her soft gray eyes rested beneath an always furrowed brow, shadowing a quaint nose and purse lips which lent to the air of dissatisfaction that followed her. Her hair was an ashen blonde, cut short and layered just above the shoulders, and her swept bangs blew across her eyes as she walked. 

Around her throat was a v-cut collar of dark fabric, a jeweled emblem fit within it near the top of her chest, and surrounding her neck stood the high white collar of her coat. The jacket was a light piece of clothing held by an emblem clasp across her small chest, and was cut apart in various ways for fashionable wear in hot climates. For example, it left her shoulders bare, and parted way in both the front and back to completely reveal her midriff and slender spine.  A buckled, navy blue girdle wrapped across her stomach, but still leaving her exposed between her belly button and the open slit of her skirt. 

 

And so, the skirt.

 

It was impossibly short. Hot pink in color, it almost glowed in the sunlight due to the sheen of the material. Completely slit on the sides, it was as if it were held only by the blue belt threaded across it, and any shift in her weight or stride forward would easily stretch the slits further to reveal her inner thighs and bare skin up to her hips and around her buttocks. The only moments it looked proper was if she stood straight, legs locked together, as she so often did. 

Ending as soon as it began, the skirt led way to the whiteness of her thighs, their thickness pinched by a pair of thigh-high armored greaves. The mail armored leggings were of bronze color and regal in their design, tapering into sky blue, clothed cuffs to match her belt, and above a set of mail, high-heeled boots. Like the rest of her outfit, these boots too had openings, with sandal like cutouts revealing her delicate feet, clothed in pink pantyhose.

Ashe was of small stature, but her legs were notably long and staunch in proportion to the rest of her body, emphasized further by the pale thickness of her thighs against the bold color of her skirt, slim waist, and the framing of her thigh-highs. With her legs locked together, her presence was both elegant and powerful.

 

And as usual, she was in a serious mood.

 

Before Vaan could even say hello, he felt his coin bag ripped from his belt and the sting of its strings lashing the skin of his oblique.

“Vaan!” Ashe curtly exclaimed.

She toyed with the pouch in her fingers and hung it in the air as if to weigh it.

“The purse is awfully light. Have you spent everything already?”

 

This was a frequent argument, as money was always tight. New towns met new wares, and between his spear, Penelo’s staff, numerous immune accessories and Ashe’s aramanets, there were always hard choices to be made.

 

“You asked for gear upgrades and so I got the latest…and maybe a few extra gambits too.” 

His eyes wandered down slightly at the mention of gambits, as he knew Ashe never quite understood their importance.

 

She tossed the coin purse into his chest which he caught awkwardly, spilling a few coins at their feet. Vaan bent down to collect them, and Ashe continued.

 

“Hm, I still don’t understand why they’ve entrusted you to do the shopping.” 

Her weight shifted to her left leg as she crossed her arms. She turned her head to look across the bustling alleyway as if to find an answer. 

As he grabbed the coins by Ashe’s feet, Vaan felt a pinch of embarrassment being so close to her towering stature, but he managed to rise to his feet without his glance leaving the ground, and Ashe’s  attention returned to him. 

 

Vaan was only slightly shorter than Ashe, but with her heeled boots she was nearly a head taller than him. She looked down upon him as she spoke.

 

“At least tell me you only upgraded equipment for myself, you, and Penelo,” she questioned. “The others seem to prefer to lounge about. I think they will get along just fine with what they have.”

“Yes, Lady Ashe, obviously…” he responded, as he nervously stamped his foot across the beige brick road, feeling the gravel skitter beneath his boot.

Her stern look became an even further frown. 

“Just Ashe, Vaan. While I would like the world to know of my return soon enough, now is not the time to speak carelessly." 

She placed a hand upon her hip, and looked him up and down.

“I still find it hard to believe we are this bankrupt.”

Vaan answered back with what he thought was a neutral comment.

 

“Uh well, remember since you use both a shield and a 1-handed sword, it’s just a bit more difficult to afford things. I still need a new staff for Penelo.”

 

The change in her demeanor made Vaan sigh with regret.

“Vaan, It’s too late to complain. Our license points are well invested at this point,” Ashe spoke rapidly in slight frustration. “You would do better to tell us when we need to string together more packs of creatures if it is more wares we need to sell.”

“Yes your High–er, Ashe.”

 

She ignored his mix-up, and changed the subject.

 

“Come. Ondore has accommodated respite for us at the local inn. He said it’s right across from Cloudborne tavern, which I do recall passing.  Let us sort through our wares and gear there.”

 

Ashe took note of Vaan’s hesitancy.

 

“I’ve alerted the others, if you were concerned about finding them. Penelo is in Larsa’s company but should return to us shortly. As for the others, their business is their own.”

Before he could give an answer she had already spun on her heels, and so Vaan then started a pace behind her, lugging the bag of equipment over his shoulder. His head swirled with wonderment over the discovery aboard the Leviathan –  this was truly Princess Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca!?

But the question he pondered most was the same as it always was, just now with even stranger context: Why would Dalmascan royalty dress like that ? 

 

Why would anyone?

 

The sun pounded upon the stone labyrinthe that was Bhujerba, and Vaan began to look forward to the inn. As it turns out, a city in the sky is an awful lot closer to the sun, or at least that is how it felt.

The alleyways all looked the same to Vaan’s eye, but he trusted Ashe’s sense of direction.

A trickle of movement caught his attention, something along Ashe’s back, between the parting flares of her coat. A droplet of sweat tumbled steadily, sending his eyes downward.

 

Her skirt was truly absurd. 

 

With each stride of her step, the fabric lifted and parted around her thighs. From behind, the cups of her buttocks were just visible below the bottom of her skirt, and with each shock of her steps, one could see a subtle reverberation and bounce. Ashe wasn’t especially endowed in size here, but her glutes were tight and immaculately shaped. 

Vaan had grown so accustomed to gazing into this sight that he was sickened by the habit. But it was impossible to ignore. 

 

Without fail, Vaan began to feel a powerful sneeze building up. This was a strange tick of his – whereas others would occasionally sneeze in sunlight, Vaan would sneeze whenever his imagination got away from him about a girl. It was a sort of mental ejaculation, and it felt wonderful.

As he recollected himself, he continued onward in a slightly better mood, permitting himself to continue staring.

 

The whole situation was truly fascinating to him. Vaan couldn’t understand the thought process at all. And a royal to dress this way? It was almost as if Ashe was oblivious, but the stilted walk, closed posture, and constant checks and adjustments to her skirt told him otherwise. Nonetheless, her caution could do little. The skirt was just impossibly short.

As they rounded the next corner, Vaan’s chest filled with dread.

 

Bangaas.

 

Vaan was comfortable with the reptilian humanoid species, as they were commonplace in Rabanastre, and he had befriended many. But with their tendency to be brutish, it made things complicated when Ashe was present. While everyone naturally tended to steal a glance as Ashe walked by, Bangaas were especially shameless about it. 

They stood on their hindlegs, covered in body piercings and slobbering through their long snouts. If you weren’t focusing intently on their words in conversation, it often just came across as blabbering. They littered the right side of the next alleway, a handful crouched down over some kind of game, and two others standing in a very animated conversation. Vaan felt a wave of apprehensiveness as each Bangaas’ eyes darted in their direction, glistening and black as their ravenous grins appeared. 

 

“Oh ho hooo!” One of them chuckled and snarled. “Am I so lucky?”

 

A green skinned bangaa stepped out into the alleyway and aside Vaan and Ashe, frantically pointing his snout every which way as if a dog finding an exciting scent. 

 

At this point Vaan was accustomed to these interactions, and as the Bangaa’s snout honed in around Ashe, Vaan advanced forward with a loudly exerted, “back off!” 

The bangaa startled backward, less out of fear than sheer surprise. 

Ashe whipped around, chopping the air in front her in a gesture: “Enough! Vaan! Ignore them.” 

The tension fortunately was noticed by a nearby census taker, who gave a lazy noise of disapproval, like an annoyed father. The Bangaa appeared unamused, but swatted both hands in the air as if to be done with the situation.

Ashe and Vaan paced strongly past the commotion, but the accosted Bangaa wasn’t quite finished, afterall. A loud, slobbery bellow rang out behind them, easily heard over the bustle of the alley.

 

“Hume slut!” 

 

Vaan cringed and gritted his teeth, freezing in place for a moment, and glanced at Ashe ahead of him. She continued walking as if hearing nothing at all. Frustrated, Vaan trotted behind her. 

Their suite had a shared common area with several adjoining bedrooms and was well furnished. Various shelves and bookcases lined the walls, and decorative rugs with designs of deep crimson hung from the ceiling, adding a richness to the otherwise dark, earthly browns of the room. Slit cutouts in the stone wall facing the street allowed soft rays of sunbeams into the space, otherwise dimly lit by several table lanterns atop tables and shelves.

Ondore had really outdone himself, Vaan thought.

 

Ashe approached a large table on the opposite end of the room. It was set before a mirror, a type of vanity perhaps, and she began to tend to her windswept hair.

“Well this is rather spacious, isn’t it?” She commented.

Vaan’s head was still swirling from the awkward confrontation in the alleyway just moments before. This had become such an issue for himself and the rest of the party. 

 

The way she dressed.

 

Indeed, whenever they were in town, he had to be the one to diffuse the crude mockery Ashe attracted to herself. All the while, she only scolded him in response, ignored the issue, and always acted as if everything was fine.

And he too was the one that had to fight alongside her, dressed the way she was, and acting like it wasn’t difficult. That it wasn’t a major distraction to himself and Penelo. 

Still flustered, and feeling like he rarely ever had a chance to talk to Ashe alone, he let the bag of gear hit the floor a bit more aggressively than he expected, but nonetheless continued.

 

“So like…what happened just now, you don’t hear what people say?”

 

Vaan waited as he observed her finish patting her hair and then move onto swabbing her face in front of the mirror.

Ashe checked her face at a few different angles and then responded.

 

“What of it? Noise from rabble? I pay no mind.”

 

Vaan squinted in frustration, taking some offense as a street urchin himself. He let his anger convince him to pursue the topic further.

 

“I just don’t, I guess like, I just don’t understand why you dress like that.”

 

His voice floundered a bit as he realized how touchy of a subject this actually was.

Ashe had suddenly ceased attending to herself, and stood in stillness, staring at him through the mirror. Vaan realized he had said the unthinkable, and his mind started to scramble.

 

The silence was painful.

 

“And how do I dress, Vaan?”

 

Her words stung.

The silence continued on, and she began to collect herself, turn to face Vaan, and walk toward him.

 

“How do I dress , Vaan?”

 

It was brutal, her tone.

 

She cocked her head sideways.

 

Vaan panicked as he tried to formulate a way to damage control.

“The way you dress is fine! It’s just…”

 

Her head returned upright.

 

“I dress ‘fine’? That’s the problem?”

"No, n-no…I mean…”

He stammered the rest out quickly.

“It’s just distracting. That’s it.” He said, pushing his hands downward as if to free himself of responsibility. 

 

Ashe folded her arms, mildly satisfied. 

Silence followed again, and this silence persuaded Vaan to continue.

“When we’re out in the field, it’s distracting! I mean, I’m worried I’ll mess up!...”

 

“What’s distracting about my outfit, exactly?” 

 

She was becoming annoyed with his hesitancy, but her tone rose in curiosity and lightness given the newly revealed information.

 

“You’d do well to be more forthright, Vaan.” 

 

The slight uplift in her voice made Vaan feel a tinge of excitement, and he didn’t know why. 

But he was honest.

“Your skirt.”

“Oh?” She looked down as if bewildered. 

 

“The color?" Ashe remarked. "Well, I’m rather fond of hot pink, but I suppose it is rather bright."

 

Vaan briefly thought he had an easy out at that moment, but he knew she was being facetious. 

 

“No, it’s not that,” he said. 

 

“Out with it then.” 

 

Great, now she sounded angry again, Vaan thought.

 

His eyes dropped to her skirt.

“It’s so short! I just, I really don’t understand…”

 

She looked down at herself, raising her arms slightly and glancing around herself and over her shoulder, like this was a new discovery to her.

Vaan continued, looking away now towards the side of the room, ashamed. 

“Any time you move at all it’s like I can see parts of you. It’s so distracting sometimes," Vaan sighed. "Honestly, I don’t know how I can fight sometimes.”

 

Ashe suddenly took a tight grip to the ends of her skirt and held them down.

“You seek to shame me?”

 

“No! I didn’t..I–”

 

“Vaan, are you truly being serious?” Ashe’s hand rose to her chest in repulsion.

She scoffed, “First of all, the way we have allocated our license points means I can’t just replace you. The others aren’t nearly as experienced or prepared, it would mean weeks of delay. 

"And what would I even tell them? That you are this…this bothered!? Over a bit of skin?”

 

“Ashe I’m sorry, I’m over it. Forget I sai–.”

 

“No, this immaturity ceases now,” she took a loud breath and reset her posture, and looked down into Vaan’s eyes.

“Tell me about the times you get distracted. What is it I do?”

 

Vaan put up his hands, palms open toward Ashe, trying to deflect her storm.

“Lady Ashe, I apologize, I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it. It’s nothing.”

 

“You will tell me how I distract you. A princess commands it.”

 

Her words stirred something in him, and he nervously placed his hands atop his head to surrender and lighten the situation.

“Geez, you don’t have to be like that you know,” as he rubbed the back of his head. 

 

“But fine.”

 

His heart began to quicken slightly, as his nerves prepared for his honesty. 

“So, like, firstly – your battle stance for example.” 

 

Ashe’s eyebrows flicked upward.

“My stance?”

 

Vaan began to explain in but in a soft, plain voice as to avoid further upsetting her.

“When you fight, the way you stand with your shield and weapon, it’s like you shift your weight to your back leg.” 

 

Ashe suddenly took quick strides toward their bag of equipment, her heels loudly filling the silence with the knocks upon the wood floor. Vaan wasn’t expecting this turn of events.

She bent down to rummage through the bag, and Vaan’s eyes couldn’t help but steal every glimpse he could. He felt his excitement get away from him, and tried to mute his thoughts, but soon found himself sneezing yet again, and the thoughts continued to pour in. He quickly placed his hands in his pockets and began shifting the fabric of his pants to obscure the shape of himself. 

 

Here he was confronting Ashe about her mini skirt. It was surreal.

Before he knew it, she was standing equipped by the bag, facing him.

 

“Like this?”

 

She held her sword abreast in her right hand, and her shield close to her left side, leaning her weight backward to create her feminine, yet defiant fighting stance. Her hip tilt was aggressive, something Vaan loved. And her leaning back parted her skirt’s slit wider and rose the fabric further up her thigh.

 

“Yes, exactly. See – from here I can see your..um..”

Intense regret filled him and he stopped himself and altered course, 

“...like, your thighs I guess.”

 

The truth was the skirt was parted enough to reveal a trace view of panties. At this time, he could even catch a glimpse of the white lace, and a hint of a crest pattern, enough to assume it was likely the royal insignia. 

She glanced down upon herself once more, and after a few moments, let out an unimpressed sigh.

 

“Vaan, it would seem you’d really have to be looking for this to be distracting.” 

 

The accusation stirred him further, and he could not mentally stop his erection from worsening. He continued to fumble the fabric in his pockets more forward to conceal the shape, and a fear grew within him as he knew it may become obvious if he didn’t do something fast.

“You are right, your highness, I am overthinking things,” he said, looking for a place to sit down. 

 

She would have none of it.

 

“Vaan! You said ‘firstly.’ You had more examples to give?”

 

He was caught, at this point, but his erection didn’t seem to register with Ashe. Vaan attempted to maintain eye contact, convincing himself that perhaps she still didn’t notice.

“It’s just so short,” he said, desperate to keep her attention above his waist. “Like when you walk and I’m behind you, the skirt doesn’t cover you all the way, and so…”

 

He was completely erect now, and the tent was fully pitched in his pants. It was painfully obvious, but Ashe treated it as invisible to the conversation at hand.

 

He felt he had to keep talking.

 

“Or, or like when you reach for something...or bend down to loot a monster, I guess I can’t help it.  Sorry, I know this is immature and you’re right it’s totally ridiculous.”

 

Still convinced of charading his descriptions, Ashe turned her back toward Vaan. He breathed a sigh of relief, hoping she had taken no notice of his situation as he saw her walk toward the table before the vanity.

 

“So when I reach for something, for instance.”

 

Her next movements startled him. 

 

She set aside her equipment and leaned over the table before the mirror as if to grab something. Her demonstration was accurate, though not entirely natural. She had outstretched onto the table from a generous distance away, bending herself at an aggressive angle while resting her elbows on its surface. Her legs were squeezed together and heels pointed inward, and the combined movement had pushed the fabric of her skirt up significantly.

At this point she was not even half covered. The skirt was raised so highly, it was as if it had vanished, and set before Vaan was her pale perfection, lovingly enveloped by white laced panties, and framed between the remainder of the hot pink skirt and her thigh-high armor.

 

Vaan’s anxiety turned into a shaken excitement, and a pang hit his chest as he felt his back go cold. Ashe remained still, peeking over her shoulder to look for some type of affirmation or eye contact, but Vaan’s gaze remained fixed elsewhere. 

 

“Vaan?”

 

She peered all over him, and yet she made no comment on his condition. 

 

“What are you staring at?" She asked.

 

She was looking back toward the mirror now, examining him in its reflection.

 

Vaan began to stammer.

 

“I just…like. It’s so short…don’t you notice? That’s like…insane.”

 

Ashe laughed. 

 

“Vaan, I don’t have eyes in the back of my head. What’s ‘insane’ about it? You really must stop being so vague.”

 

There’s no way she couldn’t know. Vaan figured she was either truly oblivious, or toying with him, and either way it frustrated him.

With the view in front of him, his brain seemed to short circuit, letting his mouth open, unfiltered.

 

“Ashe…I guess –- Your ass is like, perfect…and in that skirt I just can’t…I can’t concentrate.” 

 

He felt no shame or regret. His nerves had well burnt off at this point. Suddenly, he wanted her attention, for her to know.

Indeed, in that moment he was just a husk that wanted her to acknowledge his perversion, with a slap, scolding, or anything really.

 

And he just stood there, staring, allowing himself to throb. 

 

If she even gave him an eyeroll he’d explode.

 

But she did not.

 

Instead, Ashe remained outstretched, examining Vaan in the mirror's reflection.

 

“I see,” she said, plainly.

 

She stretched her elbows further forward on the table, almost to reveal more, before then pushing off and turning around to face him. Her hair was swept slightly across her eyes, and her skirt remained off angle and raised. But she paid no attention to adjusting or lowering it.

 

Vaan stared into the gap between her thighs. At this point he just wanted her to comment. To notice. It would blow his mind.

 

Why doesn’t she see how hard I am?

 

Indeed, there was simply no way Vaan’s erection was not the elephant in the room at this moment. And yet Ashe did not break eye contact with him. Her willful neglect was awakening something in him.

 

Ashe pressed him with her original question.

“So how do I dress, then?”

 

His hands were shaking at this point, but he continued to try and play Ashe’s game.

 

“Fine, normal, I guess.”

 

“Honesty, Vaan,” she said. “You must agree with the Bangaa, I take it? From before?”

 

Ashe took a few steps forward, well within Vaan’s personal space.

 

“No!...I mean no, absolutely n–”

 

She suddenly turned back around to face away, leaving him at a loss for words.

She was so close now that Vaan could breathe upon her nape, as tall as she was. Her scent filled him. 

 

There was silence.

 

Ashe then bent slightly forward but kept her legs stiffened straight, arching her back slightly, jutting her backside out behind her. She reached down to her sides and gently began to pull up her skirt. Soon, she had both it and her belt scrunched completely up above her waist.

Vaan was dumbstruck.

 

As she hiked up her skirt, Ashe also had managed to tug her underwear upward so that her ass completely swallowed them. 

 

Vaan couldn’t believe what he was experiencing. It was all happening, just inches away.

 

Ashe kept her posture firm, like a statue, essentially just presenting herself to Vaan.

The two were silent, and the only sound visiting the room at that moment was their breathing, and the low hum of street commotion outside.

 

Ashe gently swayed her weight from knee to knee, waiting for something.

 

She then turned her head and softly spoke down into her right shoulder,

 

“Are you obsessed with my ass, Vaan?”

 

Another pang in his chest, Vaan felt himself disassociated – Like he was an observer outside his own body.

 

Looking down, Vaan stood in shock as he felt his inhibitions begin to leave him. He responded to her, but he sounded trance-like, as if his emotions had drained from his voice,

 

“Yes.”

 

Ashe then very suddenly backed herself fully into him, pushing his tent against his belly briefly before letting off.

A brief moment of stillness followed with apprehension, as Vaan tried to process what was happening. 

 

Then, the movement resumed.

 

She pressed into him again, her ass cushioning his clothed cock against his stomach. She shimmied slightly with it held between her ass cheeks before letting off once more.

 

Looking ahead, Ashe spoke into the room in front of her.

 

“How do I dress, Vaan?” 

 

No answer.

 

Still holding her skirt completely scrunched in her hands at her waist, she moved into him once again, now more forcefully. Vaan had to catch his balance slightly. In his excitement, he was now standing on his tippy toes to better align his pelvis with Ashe, given their height difference, which made staying upright difficult.

Nevertheless, Vaan gathered himself and stood stoically, his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for Ashe to crash into him again.

 

Ashe paused briefly.

 

“Tell me how I dress, Vaan.”

 

He took another blow. 

 

He had been erect so long now that precum had made a small wet spot through his pants. He began to make a mental effort to maintain himself, but every time she spoke something within him broke. 

 

At that moment, he was becoming manic. 

 

As she paused before yet another assault, Vaan shoved his pants and briefs down to his knees to completely expose himself. He was modest in length but also thick with a fat, glistening head. 

 

Ashe still made no acknowledgement.

 

She just continued.

 

Vaan met her next return with resistance of his own, now enjoying the cool softness and bounce of her skin against his bare testicles, thighs, and the underside of his shaft as it again slammed against his own stomach. He could feel her cold leg armor lightly tapping into his thighs as well with each pounding.

The pauses between each blow became shorter, and the thrust of her weight against him harder. They both were silent but breathed audibly with every collision. 

Hands still folded behind him, Vaan met every push with a thrust of his own as the tempo between them grew quicker. Soon the collisions were forceful enough that a steady clapping sound was produced. 

 

Smack…Smack…Smack…Smack.

 

Over the sound, Ashe continued, her voice more playful and desperate,

 

“Do I dress like a slut, Vaan?”

 

This ignited Vaan, and he felt a wave of confidence flood through him. He kept his head down staring at her ass crashing into him, and kept his response just as flat as before:

 

“Yes.”

 

He could feel her excitement through her aggressiveness.

At that moment, Vaan, finding it harder than ever to balance, unclasped his hands and grabbed Ashe by the waist, using her scrunched skirt as handles. The collisions became more rapid. They smacked against one another over and over, his thighs and pelvis and her glutes slapping each other’s skin again and again.

 

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

 

As they pounded against one another, Ashe then pulled her skirt downward to conceal herself and held it there as Vaan continued to hump against her. This briefly muted the clapping of skin, and Ashe seemed delighted that Vaan did not let up at all.

 

Her excitement couldn’t be contained.

 

“Is my skirt too short, Vaan?,” she whined.

 

She was gleeful and harped quickly again.

 

“Is it too short, Vaan?”

 

“Ashe I..I can’t...”

 

Playfully she soon let go of the fabric, and the skirt naturally began to rise once more in response to each strike. Soon enough, the smacking sound of skin returned.

 

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

 

“Is this how you’d fuck me, Vaan?” 

 

Smack. Smack. Smack.

 

Her words were enough. A surge of excitement raced through him and he froze in place suddenly to try and save himself, but it was no use. With her pressed against him, the first stripe shot up onto his chest and slightly spattered on his lower chin. He grabbed his shaft and pushed it downard, stroking it as it shot hot cum over her ass cheeks and the top of her skirt.

 

He never got to answer her question.

 

“Ashe, I-I’m sorry I, I got some on your…”

The power he felt diminished into relief, but his nervousness returned as well. The quietness suddenly brought about scared thoughts of whether or not they were overheard.

“What did you get on me? What is it, Vaan?,” Ashe whined, as if upset.

“It’s on your skirt…”, Vaan slowly replied.

Ashe was still jutted toward him, presenting, and speaking over her shoulder.

“Tell me what you did, Vaan. Exactly.”

 

Vaan took a deep breath.

 

“Ashe I-I…I got cum on your mini skirt,” Vaan admitted, exasperated.

“Say it exactly, Vaan." She stamped her right heel on the floor, sending a shaking, tight quiver throughout her thighs and ass. "Again. You forgot the color, didn’t you?”

 

He breathed again.

 

“Lady Ashe, I got my cum on your hot p-pink mini skirt.”

She was satisfied.

“Oh. And what should we do about that?" Ashe prodded.

 

Vaan wasn’t sure what to do with himself or how to respond. His cock remained half stiff as if desperate to resume, but he was assuredly of no use.

“I’ll get a towel real qu–”

“No, Vaan. Why would we want to do that?”

“Sorry?”

 

He was truly perplexed.

 

“You want Penelo to see, don’t you?”

 

Vaan’s eyes immediately widened.

 

“No, what!? No – she’d kill me. Plea–”

 

“Leave it, Vaan.” She stood upright and adjusted her skirt without disturbing the creamy puddles and stripes atop it.

 

“And the rule is, if she comments on it, you must tell her what it is.”

 

“Ashe, plea–”.

 

“A command, Vaan. Now then. Let’s sort through our gear – shall we?”