Lesbian Dungeon Mistress 18+

38 Returning Home



  Saturday 2395 dungeon points, Sunday 2360 dungeon points, Monday 2325 dungeon points.

 

  Amanda enters with a bright smile. "I'm here to check on you. If everything looks good, I'll let you go today."

 

  "That's great. I'm ready to go home," I respond. She moves aside the gown and looks at my stomach. I then roll over, and she looks over my back.

 

  "It's looking good. You're healing surprisingly fast! It's pretty mysterious," Amanda states with shock. "Well, I think you can head out once the paperwork is finished. Try not to over-exert yourself and rest."

 

  I bite my lip. "How long until I can start running?" I ask nervously.

 

  Amanda puts her hands on her hips and thinks. "Just because you're healing well, you shouldn't push it. I think it'll be a month. But I want you to come and get checked out before you start doing anything strenuous."

 

  Later that day, mom takes me home. We arrive, and Brigit rushes to the car as soon as we arrive. She hugs me and starts crying. "I'm so glad. I was worried," Brigit chokes out.

 

  "I'm sorry," I respond with a sniffle. I pat Brigit's back in a gentle hug. We stand there for a few minutes before entering the house.

 

  We sit on the couch and talk for a while. It feels good to be around my family. Eventually, things turn to Brigit becoming a retainer. "I didn't want you to be stuck with me," I say quietly. I grab her hand and gently squeeze.

 

  Brigit grabs my hand back and shakes her head. "Even if you don't want me to, I want to."

 

  "Alright, you win," I say as I reach to tighten my ponytail. But it's not there, and I wince from my stomach wound.

 

  "Here, let me," Brigit says. She stretches her hand, and a string floats and wraps around my hair, tying it up.

 

  "Wow, what is that?" I ask with wide eyes. I want to reach up and touch my hair, but I stop myself.

 

  Brigit giggles. "Apparently, I'm a sewing beauty. It's a power I got with the title. I also spent my points on the ability to make materials into thread. I'll show you later," she tells me jovially.

 

  We talk for a while more until I get restless. I've been lying in bed for so many days that I want to move. "Let's go check out the dungeon," I suddenly state.

 

  Mom looks at me and reminds me, "You're supposed to rest. If you open up your wound, I will make you stay in the hospital until it heals."

 

  "Mooom," I whine while being sure to pout.

 

  Brigit bops my head. "I'll go get the slimes. They can carry you down there."

 

  Mom rubs Brigit's shoulder approvingly. "That's a good idea. You wait until your trusty steeds arrive," Mom tells me.

 

  "Fine," I harumph with my arms crossed. I wait for Brigit to return, making sure to keep pouting. It takes about a half hour with the path cleared. After waiting for a little more than an hour, the slime brigade arrives.

 

  I flop down on a slime and instantly regret it. Searing pain shoots from my wound. I worry that I already F'ed up, but Brigit checks my back, and it still looks fine. I sigh in relief and gently mount the slime.

 

  Once we reach the stream, I get up and start to stretch. But the pulling of the stitches reminds me not to. Brigit walks over to the creek and picks up a hand-sized rock. I look at her quizzically until it shrinks into a pile of grey string. "Wow, that's pretty amazing!"

 

  "Yeah, but the conversion is surprisingly bad," Brigit says with a shrug.

 

  "What do you mean?" I ask, tilting my head.

 

  "I only got like five feet of this small thread from a rock the size of my hand. The mass is completely different," Brigit explains while stretching out the string.

 

  "That's true. But it gains some of the properties, right? Maybe the mass is converted into the addition?" I ponder, tapping my arm as I think.

 

  "Maybe. But it sounds pretty good, but you'd need a lot to make a whole outfit. Like if you want a dress as strong as steel… It'll get pretty expensive."

 

  "But you can get bulletproof clothing with a fraction of the weight. The military would happily pay a fortune for something like that."

 

  Brigit smiles. "Yeah, if you put it like that, it sounds pretty amazing."

 

  "It is amazing," I say as we head towards the dungeon.

 

  Once inside, I look around, and all the bottles are empty. I then see a pile of clothes and walk over. "You took their clothes?"

 

  "Yeah, I mean, they stabbed you," Brigit responds as if it's obvious.

 

  "I guess," I reply. I pick up the leather armor and hold it up, but I'm disappointed. Yeah, this stuff won't work for us.

 

  "Yeah, their boobs were all small," Brigit understands me immediately.

 

  I then investigate the swords. I pick one up and feel the edge. Yeah, even a novice like me can tell the quality difference between this and my blade. "I'd be lucky if my sword didn't snap in half. I made the right decision not to use it."

 

  Brigit kicks the clothes with disgust. "We should just burn the stuff," she says bitterly. A few more kicks sends a small necklace clinking across the ground.

 

  "What's that?"

 

  "I don't know. I didn't notice it when I stripped them. But I was in a hurry," Brigit explains. She walks over and picks it up. She looks at it for a moment, saying nothing.

 

  I walk over and put my hand on Brigit's shoulder. "What's wrong?" I ask while trying to see her hand.

 

  Brigit shifts and shows me the necklace. It's a white straight metal pole with just a speck of black at the bottom. That's strange. I feel like I've seen this before. I lean my head on Brigit's shoulder as I think.

 

  "Mom has one of these, doesn't she? Well, it's bigger, but it's the same, right?" Brigit unsurely speaks.

 

  I rub my cheek on her shoulder and respond, "I feel like I've seen it, but I don't remember mom ever wearing anything like that."

 

  Brigit nods. "She stopped wearing it when you were pretty young. I could be remembering wrong myself."

 

  "Let's just ask her."

 

  "Are you sure? She might not want to talk about it," Brigit says. She leans her head on mine, and we stand there silently for a moment.

 

  "I'm sure it's okay," I state.

 

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