Tactical Embarrassment

If interdimensional travel feels like being pulled through a pasta maker, then being dumped into another world feels like getting spat out by a cosmic washing machine after an extra-long spin cycle. One moment I was tumbling through the void, the next I was plunging face-first into cold water with a splash that probably offended several local deities.

"What the—" I spluttered, flailing as I broke the surface of what appeared to be a perfectly circular pool. Water streamed from my hair into my eyes, temporarily blinding me as I treaded water and tried to get my bearings.

The first thing I noticed was the light—or rather, lights. Above me, three full moons hung impossibly in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over everything. One appeared larger than Earth's moon, another slightly smaller, and the third about the same size but with a faint bluish tint. Their combined illumination created an otherworldly brightness that made the night almost as clear as twilight.

"Three moons," I muttered, wiping water from my eyes. "Because of course there are three moons. Why settle for one when you can have a complete set?"

As my vision cleared, I became aware that I wasn't alone. Surrounding the pool were figures—ethereal, graceful figures moving in what appeared to be a choreographed dance. My heart skipped several beats as I realised they were women. Extraordinarily beautiful women with long, pointed ears that twitched subtly as they moved.

Their dance was hypnotic—fluid movements that seemed to flow like the water I was currently treading in. More disconcerting was their attire... or lack thereof. They wore translucent, veil-like robes made of some gossamer silken material that did more to accentuate than conceal their exceptionally curvaceous figures. The moonlight shone through the fabric, creating an effect that was simultaneously modest and not modest at all.

I had no idea who or what they were, but something in my genre-savvy mind whispered that I was witnessing something sacred or ceremonial. Their movements were too precise, too meaningful to be casual entertainment.

"Um, hello?" I called out, feeling incredibly awkward. "Sorry to interrupt your... whatever this is. I just sort of fell into your pool."

They didn't acknowledge me. Instead, they continued their mesmerising dance, their long ears occasionally twitching in perfect unison as if listening to music I couldn't hear.

That's when I noticed the pool beginning to glow. The water around me took on a luminescent quality, starting faintly but growing brighter by the second. The dancers' movements intensified, becoming more elaborate and synchronised with the increasing glow.

"That can't be good," I decided, genuine alarm prickling along my spine. In every fantasy story I'd ever consumed, glowing pools generally preceded either transformation, sacrifice, or summoning—none of which I wanted to participate in.

I struck out for the edge of the pool, swimming as fast as my waterlogged uniform would allow. The dancers, noticing my movement for the first time, began to close ranks around the pool's perimeter, their dance never faltering but somehow becoming more focused on me.

As I reached the edge and grabbed the stone rim, one of the dancers extended a graceful hand toward me. Her long ears twitched forward, and her expression was neither threatening nor particularly welcoming—more curious, like I was an unexpected variable in their ritual equation.

The others continued their dance, now forming a circle around me as I hauled myself out of the glowing water. Their movements became more... well, there's no delicate way to put this: sensual. The already suggestive choreography transformed into something that made the blood rush to my face (and other inconvenient areas).

"I, uh... I don't have any money to pay for this kind of show," I joked nervously, water puddling around my feet as I stood awkwardly in their midst.

None of them laughed. Or spoke. Or stopped dancing.

As they circled me, their movements growing increasingly mesmerising, I caught glimpses through their translucent robes that made my heart race. Beneath the gossamer fabric, they wore what appeared to be intricately designed lace undergarments, the patterns catching moonlight in ways that emphasised rather than concealed.

My face burned hot enough to evaporate the pool water still dripping down my cheeks. "This is not happening," I muttered to myself. "This is some kind of cosmic joke. Or a stress-induced hallucination. Or the deities are messing with me."

But the dancers were undeniably real, their movements creating a breeze that carried the scent of exotic flowers and something else—a sweet, intoxicating fragrance I couldn't identify. Their pointed ears continued to twitch in perfect synchronisation with their dance, sometimes angling directly toward me as if listening to my heartbeat.

They moved closer, their dance becoming more intimate without ever touching me. Some remained by the pool, continuing their original ritual, but others had clearly made me their focus. The rhythm of their movements had a trance-like quality that I felt myself responding to against my better judgement.

My thoughts began to feel fuzzy around the edges. The three moons above seemed to pulse in time with the dance, their light intensifying and dimming in a synchronised pattern. I shook my head, trying to clear it.

"Is this magic?" I wondered aloud, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. "Or am I just exhausted? Or is my mind finally breaking from too much weirdness in too short a time?"

The dancers offered no answers, only continued their hypnotic performance. Their graceful forms blurred slightly in my vision, the lines between them becoming indistinct as the dance progressed. The moonlight caught the lace beneath their robes in flashes that sent shivers up my spine—a reaction that was equal parts aesthetic appreciation and something far more primal.

My eyelids grew heavy, the combined effect of the dance, the scent in the air, and the rhythmic pulsing of the moonlight overwhelming my senses. The last thing I clearly remember is the most beautiful of the dancers approaching me, her ears twitching forward with interest as she extended a hand toward my face...

Her fingertips brushed my temple, and I felt my consciousness slowly slipping away. The moonlight dancers continued their hypnotic dance around me, their translucent robes shimmering with every graceful movement. The luminescent glow of the moonpool intensified, casting an ethereal light over their curvaceous forms. I stood there, soaked and bewildered, as the dancers closed in, their movements becoming increasingly sensual.

"Um, ladies," I stammered, feeling a mix of awe and embarrassment. "I really don't know what's going on here, but I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding—I'm just a guy who fell into your pool."

The dancers didn't respond, but their movements became more intimate, their bodies brushing against mine in a way that sent electric shocks through my nerves. The scent of exotic flowers and that intoxicating fragrance filled the air, making my head spin.

One moment I was watching the moonlight dancers; the next, I was floating in a world of soft light, sensations, and sounds. An overwhelming drowsiness weighed on my limbs; my senses felt both numb and hyper-alert, and my heart pounded in a slow, heavy rhythm.

The dancers' dance had become less graceful and more... intimate. I was no longer standing at the edge of the pool but instead found myself lying on some kind of plush, cushioned platform, surrounded by the dancers. They moved over me, their shifting weight and pressure a constant, sensual caress. Memories of casual gatherings and the skimpiest of dreams flooded my mind. This was one of those dreams, wasn't it? An erotic fantasy featuring the most breathtaking women I'd ever seen in my life. And I was the centre of their attention, their lithe, perfect bodies moving in ways that were now far from innocent.

They were undressing me, their nimble fingers tracing my chest, sliding over my stomach, and unfastening my trousers. I should have been more than embarrassed; I should have been terrified. But all I felt was a curious calm, a sense of rightness that kept my heart rate steady and my breathing easy. As they removed my clothes, I couldn't help but notice theirs seemed to be getting... well, less substantial. Through some combination of the moonlight and their whisper-light movements, the translucent robes they wore became thinner, revealing more of their perfect features with each pass of their dance.

The dancers' robes, already translucent, seemed to become even more diaphanous, revealing glimpses of their intricate lace undergarments. The patterns caught the moonlight in ways that were both modest and incredibly alluring. My face burned, and I could feel the blood rushing to other, more inconvenient areas.

Among the dancers was a woman who commanded my attention, her presence impossible to ignore. Her platinum hair cascaded down her back like a silken waterfall, her slender, twitching ears exuding a delicate sensuality. Beneath the gossamer silk clinging to her form, her body was barely restrained by a dark blue lace bra, the cups struggling to contain her generous K-cup chest. Her matching garter belt held up sheer stockings that added inches to her already impressive height, and the delicate bow accenting her panties drew my eyes to linger on her supple figure.

Their hands explored me, their fingers brushing over my chest and stomach before trailing lower. I gasped as they teased me, every touch sending jolts of pleasure through my nerves. I didn't know what to do with my hands, so I let them wander, tracing the lines of their perfect figures, brushing the increasingly exposed skin beneath their diaphanous robes. The rest of the dancers continued their rhythm, their movements now a symphony of sensuality and grace, even as she took the lead in focusing on me. Her long silver hair flowed like liquid moonlight, and her ears twitched forward as she reached toward me with a graceful hand. Her touch was gentle, almost reverent, as though she were exploring something precious yet mysterious.

They took turns kissing me, each one more passionate and skilful than the last. It was as if the dance they performed was designed for this moment, and I was the one they were moving for. And then, she broke from their rhythm and began to focus on me in a far more... personal way. Instead of the choreographed dance, she began to explore me, her hands and lips roaming my body. Before I realised what was happening, she took me into her mouth—wet, warm—and I was powerless to stop the surge of pleasure that followed! Her tongue moved expertly, swirling around me, shattering any coherent thought remaining in my mind.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The rest of the dancers, as if moved by their companion's passion, worked to heighten my pleasure, their mouths and lips on my chest, their hands on my inner thighs, massaging the flesh they found there even as they remained carefully out of her way. All the while I could feel the well of my body tensing, hunger for release building swiftly.

The woman's lips slid over me until she reluctantly drew back for a moment. Her eyes met mine, and she gave me a soft, knowing smile as if she knew exactly what she was doing to me. She murmured something low and husky, and though I couldn't make it out, the tone of her voice was undeniably smug. She knew she owned my pleasure.

She continued, murdering any further thought in my mind, as she proceeded to take me deep into her mouth like I felt myself hitting the back of her throat, and then she went further. The slick warmth of her tongue enveloped my length, a whip of pure sensation lashing through me. She took me deeper, impossibly so, without a flicker of hesitation or resistance. There was no gag reflex to disrupt her rhythm; her throat constricting around my shaft until I teetered over the brink. Her fingers worked delicately beneath me, tracing sensitive, long-ignored parts of me until I crumbled entirely. This time, no one stood between me and the sensations crashing through me. I cried out, my hips bucking wildly as I released into her. She swallowed every drop of my climax, her throat constricting around my shaft as she drank from me.

But she didn't stop there. As soon as I finished, she pulled back slightly, her lips moving to my shaft, sliding along it at a languid but deliberate pace. The slickness of her saliva coated me, making my length even more sensitive as she worked me insistently. It only took a moment before my nerves were overwhelmed once again. I wanted desperately to pull away, to give my shaking body time to recover, but she held me firm, a silent command to submit.

When I was aching and impossibly hard in her grasp again, she finally released my shaft, looking up at me pointedly as if daring me to resist. Before I could even comprehend her intentions, she had dragged her tongue along my length one last teasing lick before she pulled back. With a sultry glance, she pressed her K-cup chest together, enveloping my length entirely in their warm, soft depth. Slowly, expertly, she began to slide her breasts over me as though putting every drop of my awareness on her alone. The slide of her supple skin felt like soft silk, constricting and teasing all at once as my already-sensitive shaft slid<= within their depths.

I felt myself immediately race towards the brink once more. I tried to hold back to draw out the moment, but there was too much, the unyielding pressure chasing the last shreds of my sanity from me. Her tongue wet her lips as she glanced up to watch my face as she mercilessly crossed the point of no return. With a choked cry, I crested over irreversibly, a second explosive release shuddering through me and into her waiting breasts.

The rest of the dancers, as they shared in the intimacy, their pace quickened to match the rhythm of a new tune of music that picked up around us, the dance becoming more intense, a rhythm sending shockwaves of pleasure through all of us.

And then, like a crashing wave, the music ended. The dancers collapsed around me, their breaths heavy, their bodies flushed. As I gasped for air, I noticed a subtle glow in the air around us, a light that seemed to fill the space between us, binding us together in a way I couldn't describe.

As I lay there, my heartbeat slowing, my breaths steady, I felt a... contentment. A sense of rightness that filled me. I didn't know what had just happened, but I knew it had changed me somehow.

Then I knew no more.

Lights out.

I awoke to birdsong and dappled sunlight filtering through leaves overhead. For a blissful moment, I thought I was back home, that perhaps the entire isekai adventure had been an elaborate dream brought on by stress and an unhealthy consumption of fantasy genres.

Then I noticed the unfamiliar vegetation surrounding me, plants with shapes and colours that definitely didn't exist in my neighbourhood park. I was lying on soft grass in a peaceful forest glade, the circular pool from the night before shimmering innocently a few feet away. No dancers, no translucent robes, no hypnotic movements—just me, alone in a quiet forest clearing.

I sat up gingerly, surprised to find my uniform had dried completely, still impeccably clean thanks to my Stain Resistance selection. The coiled rope at my belt had managed to stay perfectly dry as well, making me wonder yet again about the practical applications of my supposedly "useless" selections.

My head felt clear but oddly empty, as if important memories had been tidied away into drawers I couldn't quite reach.

"What happened last night?" I muttered, rubbing my temples. "Was any of that real?"

The pool reflected morning sunlight in ripples of gold and silver, offering no answers. The three moons were gone, replaced by a sun that looked reassuringly similar to Earth's, though perhaps a touch more golden.

I tried to piece together the events after my interdimensional arrival. The pool. The three moons. The hypnotic dancers with their translucent veils and pointed ears. Their trance-inducing movements. The glimpses of lace beneath the gossamer robes...

But the more I tried to focus on what happened after that, the slipperier the memories became, dissolving like sugar in hot tea the moment I tried to grasp them.

"Did the twelve deities just prank me with some kind of erotic dream?" I wondered aloud. "Is this their idea of a cosmic joke? Or am I just so desperate from missing my figurine collection that my brain invented the whole scenario?"

It was embarrassing to consider, but not entirely implausible given the circumstances. Stress, dimensional displacement, and an admittedly questionable hobby could definitely combine into a vivid hallucination.

"Must have been a dream," I concluded, pushing myself to my feet with perfect balance—another minor selection coming in handy. "A weird, inappropriately detailed dream."

That's when I noticed something on the grass beside me—a delicate, lacy handkerchief, the fabric so fine it was almost translucent. It matched exactly what I remembered from the dancers' garments, down to the intricate patterns that caught the light just so.

I picked it up with trembling fingers, the silken material impossibly soft against my skin. "Not a dream, then," I whispered, my mouth suddenly dry.

I activated my Basic Item Identification selection, focusing on the handkerchief. A tingle ran from my fingers up my arm as information flowed into my mind: the fabric was something called "lunespun silk," infused with magical properties that allowed it to absorb moonlight. It was definitely not of human manufacture.

"So, what exactly happened last night?" I murmured, tucking the handkerchief carefully into my pocket.

The handkerchief offered no further answers, and my memories remained frustratingly incomplete. Whatever occurred in this clearing under the three moons would apparently remain a mystery—perhaps for the best, given the possible scenarios my imagination was all too eager to supply.

Just then, I remembered another selection I'd received—the Weak Prescription Lenses. I felt them materialise between my fingers as I thought about them—a pair of subtle blue-tinted contacts.

"Might as well try everything I've got," I muttered, carefully inserting the lenses.

The moment they settled on my eyes, my vision shifted slightly. Everything became a touch clearer, with a subtle blue hue around the edges—nothing dramatic, just as the selection had promised. What I hadn't expected, however, was the translucent display that suddenly appeared in my field of vision.

"What the—" I gasped as glowing text materialised before my eyes: NATURAL ATTRIBUTES ENHANCEMENT DETECTED. PLEASE ROLL D11 DICE

Before I could process what this meant, a holographic die appeared, hovering in the air in front of me. It was labelled with numbers 1 through 10, but instead of an 11, the final face showed the letter "M."

LUCK

"Luck? I'm rolling for luck?" I muttered, baffled. "And what does 'M' stand for? Mediocre? Minimum?"

The prompt repeated: PLEASE ROLL THE DICE

"How am I supposed to—" I began, then instinctively reached out to tap the floating die. It spun rapidly in the air, tumbling over and over before finally settling on... "M."

"Oh, great," I sighed.

Luck is value M, so other attributes will be M according to level. Strength, Agility, Constitution, Intelligence, Dexterity, Charisma, Wisdom, Luck all set to M

"What does that even mean?" I groaned, rubbing my temples. "M for Mediocre? Miserable? Maddening? Is this another cosmic joke?"

With the interface disappearing from my vision, I was left with nothing but the gentle sounds of the glade and a gnawing certainty: if the lenses were real, and the handkerchief was real, then so were last night's dancers. Which meant the whole ridiculous situation—the deities, the isekai, my pitiful selections—was all real too.

Including my classmates. Wherever they were.

My chest tightened with renewed worry. I had been transported to an entirely different world—not alone, but separated from everyone else. The full weight of my responsibility suddenly crashed down on me like a ton of bricks.

"Where is everyone?" I said, spinning in place as if expecting to find my entire class lounging around the glade. The fact that I'd arrived later than the others meant I'd been separated from the group. And if I was separated...

"Naomi-san," I groaned, a new wave of dread washing over me.

I tried using my Roommate Awareness selection to detect if anyone was nearby, but sensed nothing within its thirty-metre range. Either I was completely alone, or the dancers had placed me far from any settlements.

Naomi-san had been caught in a summoning circle too. What if she'd been sent somewhere else? What if she was lost or in danger? The sisters would absolutely blame me if anything happened to her—and given my luck, she was probably being attacked by monsters this very minute.

I started pacing, my mind racing through scenarios, each worse than the last. "Okay, genre logic triage," I muttered, attempting to impose some order on my chaotic thoughts. "First priority: find Naomi-san. She's an older woman in an unfamiliar world. She's defenceless." I paused, remembering the deities mentioning she'd chosen "interesting" selections. "Well, probably defenceless."

Second priority would be finding my classmates, but Naomi-san took precedence. If anything happened to her because I wasn't there to help—because I'd been too busy running from summoning circles—I'd never forgive myself. And the sisters would never forgive me either.

"Great. So, I'm in an unknown fantasy world with only my mundane-but-oddly-specific selections and a smartphone to guide me, and I need to find a single person in what's probably an entire continent."

I tried using my Familiar Place Daydreaming selection to see if I could visualise where the others might have been sent, but without having visited any location in this world besides this clearing, it was useless.

I pulled out my smartphone, relieved to see it still had the divine-granted signal. The screen displayed "VOLUPTARIA NETWORK" with full bars, but my map app showed only a blue dot in the centre of a blank space. Helpful.

"Looks like I'm doing this the old-fashioned way," I sighed, tucking the phone back into my pocket. "Pick a direction and start walking."

But which direction? The glade offered no obvious path, just trees in all directions and the innocent-looking pool in the centre. I was about to resort to eeny-meeny-miny-moe when a piercing scream cut through the morning air.

I froze, my blood turning to ice. The scream had come from somewhere in the forest—not too distant, but not immediately close either. A woman's scream.

My Roommate Awareness selection suddenly pulsed, alerting me to a presence just at the edge of its range. Someone was out there, and in trouble.

"Of course," I groaned, already moving toward the sound, uncoiling my divinely-granted rope just in case. "Because what's an isekai adventure without a damsel in distress within the first five minutes of arrival?"

As I pushed through the underbrush, dodging strange-looking plants and leaping over exposed roots, I couldn't help but reflect on the cosmic unfairness of it all. I'd been denied any useful selections, separated from my classmates, and now I was running toward danger armed with nothing but bubble-blowing abilities and magically-reinforced fingernails.

"If this turns out to be the start of some 'chosen one' narrative," I panted as I ran, "I'm going to demand a refund on my protagonist application. Most heroes at least get a rusty sword to start with—not the supernatural ability to keep their socks perfectly folded while they're being eaten by whatever fantasy monster is causing that screaming!"