Inquisition

Steven lounged on the narrow bed, the morning light casting a soft glow over Melissa as she nestled beside him, her silver hair spilling across the pillow like a shimmering river. Her playful energy lingered, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest, a flirty smile still tugging at her lips. Seizing the moment, he turned to her, voice casual but probing. “Hey, Melissa—if you could change anything about your body, what would you pick?” He kept it light, curious to plumb her desires—fuel for his Fleshsculpting, a chance to mold her happiness further.

She blinked, caught off guard, then propped herself up on an elbow, her naked form glowing in the dawn’s embrace. Her blush flared—partly from the question, partly from her soulbound boldness—but she grinned, tapping her chin. “Oh, wow, that’s a big one,” she giggled, her tone teasing yet thoughtful. “Well… I’ve always wanted bigger boobs, y’know? Not huge, but maybe a bit fuller—gnome girls don’t get much up top, and I’ve envied those curvy elves.” She cupped her small, pert breasts, giving them a playful squeeze. “These are cute, but a little more wouldn’t hurt.”

She paused, then her eyes sparkled mischievously. “And maybe my ass—rounder, juicier. Something to wiggle when I walk, make you stare even harder,” she added with a wink, her flirtatious edge sharpened by his influence, her leg brushing his thigh suggestively. “Oh, and taller! Just a smidge—like three or four inches. I’m tiny even for a gnome, and I’d love to reach the top shelf without climbing like a squirrel.” She laughed, then leaned closer, voice dropping to a sultry murmur. “What about you, huh? What’d you change on me—or is this,” she gestured to herself, “already your dream girl?”

Steven smirked, filing her wishes away—bigger breasts, rounder ass, a few extra inches of height. Fleshsculpting Lvl 2 hummed in his mind, its limits stretched but not broken; he could nudge her toward these, bit by bit, each tweak a gift to her joy. Her playful question hung in the air, and he leaned in, matching her tone. “You’re damn close already—but I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t enjoy seein’ those curves pop a little more.” She giggled, swatting his chest, her blush deepening as she pressed herself tighter against him, her happiness—and his quiet power—palpable in the morning stillness.

Steven chuckled as Melissa playfully swatted him, her teasing warmth filling the tight guild room. Her silver hair gleamed in the dawn’s light, and her flirty energy crackled between them. He leaned back, locking eyes with her and grinning. “Hey, it’s not about what I want—it’s what you want,” he said, his voice genuine but edged with purpose. Her happiness was his aim, and her desires—bigger breasts, a rounder ass, a few extra inches of height—were his blueprint. As her laughter softened into a curious head tilt, he seized the chance, casting Identify on his freshly leveled Fleshsculpting Lvl 2 to see what his ding had unlocked.

A translucent window flared before him: “Fleshsculpting Lvl 2: Allows manipulation of living flesh—self or others—with intent and precision. At current level, can alter moderate physical traits (e.g., hair length up to 12 inches, minor muscle enhancement, breast/ass volume increase up to 50% of original size) or heal moderate wounds (e.g., deep cuts, minor fractures). Height adjustment limited to 3-inch increase/decrease. Range: Touch. Duration: Permanent unless reversed. Limit: Changes must remain biologically viable; significant restructuring requires higher levels. Note: Pain reduced in willing targets; unwilling targets may resist, lowering success rate by 20%. Level 2 Enhancement: Precision improved—fine details (e.g., skin tone, feature symmetry) now adjustable; multiple changes per use possible.”

Steven’s eyes lit up, absorbing the upgrade. Level 2 had broadened his reach—50% more volume for her breasts or ass, up to three inches of height, even fine-tuning like symmetry—all within his power now. He could tweak multiple traits in one go, sculpting her closer to her dreams with each touch. Her wishlist replayed in his head—fuller breasts, a juicier ass, a height boost—all feasible, her soulbound trust and Mind-Dominion nudge ensuring she’d revel in it without question.

She smirked, leaning closer. “What I want, huh? You’re sweet—most guys’d just stare and beg.” Her lips brushed his jaw, her tone sultry and bold, a gift of his influence. “Guess I’ll stick with my list then—more to flaunt up here,” she squeezed her chest, “and back here,” she wiggled her hips, “and a little taller to strut it all.” She giggled, oblivious to the power poised to reshape her, her flirtation a vibrant flame stoked by his subtle command.