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Succubus 8 (Riddles And Revenge): A LitRPG Series

Page 15

by A. J. Markam


  “As long as it involves that battering ram inside me.”

  “Get on the bed.”

  “Aye aye, cap’n,” she said saucily, and broke away from the other women and lay on her back.

  “On your side,” I said.

  Tarka frowned, puzzled, but got up on one side, exposing her ample ass to me.

  It was wet from Meera’s mouth… which was perfect.

  I got down on the bed behind her, grabbed my shaft, and angled the tip right up against her tight little asshole.

  Tarka looked over her shoulder at me with her mouth wide open in an expression of happy surprise.

  “Permission to come aboard,” I said with a grin.

  “Permission granted, landlubber.”

  I pressed forward with my hips, and eased my cock slowly inside her ass.

  GOD she was tight…

  “OhhhhHHHHHHH,” Tarka moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head.

  Alaria, Eluun, and Meera all stood at the foot of the bed, staring, their mouths open hungrily. Alaria was actually diddling the other two, her red crimson fingers moving back and forth in Eluun’s white bush and Meera’s blonde one.

  “Unh… unh… unh,” Meera whimpered.

  “Ohhhhhh…” Eluun groaned.

  Once I was all the way inside Tarka, she hungrily reached over her shoulder and French-kissed me. I reached around and cupped her heavy breasts as I slowly moved in and out of her ass.

  “Mmm… mmm… mmm…” Tarka moaned every time I entered her all the way.

  “Alaria, would you come around to her front?” I asked.

  Alaria pulled away from Eluun and Meera, leaving them to their own devices. The frost elf and angel immediately clasped in an embrace and began to diddle each other, fingers sliding over each other’s clits – but they wouldn’t look away from what was happening on the bed.

  Alaria lay down in front of Tarka.

  “Give her your tail,” I said. “A lot of it.”

  Alaria grinned, then pulled her tail between her thighs and doubled it over with her hand, the way you might crimp a garden hose. So instead of a three-foot-long tail that tapered to a sharp, pointy tip, she now had a foot-and-a-half-long oval of soft, rigid flesh.

  Which she put between Tarka’s thighs.

  “Ohhhhhhh!” Tarka groaned as the tail-dildo slid inside her pussy.

  It was so big, I felt it inside Tarka – a blunt pressure through the soft wet skin around my dick.

  “Now fuck her,” I ordered Alaria.

  My succubus grinned and began to thrust her hips, plunging the tail-dildo deep inside. It was so long that Tarka couldn’t take it all, but she took at least half of it.

  At the same time, I began to thrust inside her, too, my cock ramming inside her as my hips smacked Tarka’s ass.

  Slap! Slap! Slap!

  “OH! OH! OH!” Tarka screamed in bliss.

  Alaria and I got into a rhythm where we both hit an upstroke at the same time, giving Tarka even more sensation deep inside.

  Eluun and Meera were both standing at the foot of the bed, their hands blurs between each other’s thighs as they watched me and Alaria.

  “Meera, get over here,” I said.

  She quickly ran over.

  “Straddle Tarka’s head and lower yourself down on her face,” I ordered.

  She did as ordered.

  Tarka took to Meera’s pussy like a woman dying of thirst.

  “OHHHH!” the angel screamed as Tarka began sucking on her clit.

  Poor Eluun looked left out at the foot of the bed.

  I looked over Tarka’s body – and Meera’s ass. After all, her right leg was now between me and Tarka’s back.

  It was beginning to feel a lot like a porno game of Twister.

  Which I was not complaining about.

  But there was some room left. After all, Alaria was fucking Tarka with a foot-and-a-half-long tail-dildo, of which only about nine inches was going in. Alaria’s and Tarka’s bodies weren’t pressed together, which meant we could fit one more.

  “Hey Eluun, get over here between Alaria and Tarka and 69 Alaria,” I said.

  The frost elf happily complied.

  She inserted herself between Alaria and Tarka, wrapped her thighs around my succubus’s head, and went down on her.

  Alaria returned the favor, alternating between licking Eluun’s little blue clit and sticking her tongue deep inside her pussy.

  Tarka wasn’t getting the full nine inches from the tail-dildo anymore, but she didn’t seem to mind. She switched from licking Meera to fingering her, and instead moved her oral skills to Eluun’s shapely ass.

  So Alaria was getting cunnilingus from Eluun…

  Eluun was getting both her pussy and her ass eaten by Alaria and Tarka…

  Meera was getting fingerbanged…

  And Tarka was getting fucked in both the ass and her pussy, courtesy of me and Alaria.

  Porno Twister was the best.

  “OH GODS,” Meera screamed, her back arched and her head leaned back, “I’M COMING, I’M COMING!”

  Which pushed everybody else over the edge.

  “MMMMMMMMMF!” Eluun said, her cries muffled by Alaria’s pussy.

  “MMMMMMMMMF!” Alaria cried out, her noises muffled by Eluun’s bush.

  “MMMMMMMMMF!” Tarka shrieked, her scream muffled by Eluun’s ass.

  “OH FUCK!” I cried out as I exploded inside Tarka.

  All the women shuddered and trembled, and after about 30 seconds of more MMMFS and screams, we all collapsed into a sweaty pile of post-orgasmic bliss.

  Luna was right: OtherWorld had definitely solved the female orgasm problem.

  20

  I almost lasted the full 16 hours, swear to God.

  Not that there weren’t a lot of breaks in between.

  There were a couple of quick jaunts to the kitchen for food and wine, which I brought back to the room so all five of us could feast. We burned through a couple of hours like that, just lying around eating and drinking.

  At other times, we might take a little rest, then start again… or pair up in different combinations…

  But through it all, Tarka was at the center of the fun, and we made sure she kept coming like a rocket.

  We were all lolling around in bed after a particularly intense session when I checked my portal timer.

  3:42:30.

  Less than four hours to go.

  I figured I was good for another couple of go-rounds. Being Alaria’s lover had been excellent training for this type of marathon.

  Night had fallen long ago, and it was dark outside the giant bay window along the back wall of the bedroom.

  We were just about to go at it again when there was a timid knock at the door.

  I figured it was Stig, but I was still on alert as I sat up in bed. “Yes?”

  “Hey Boss?” my imp said from the other side in an unhappy voice.

  “What?”

  “Can I come in for a second?”

  I got up from the bed. “Hold on a second, ladies.”

  “Don’t be long, landlubber,” Tarka said seductively. “I need you to board me aft again.”

  I think that was pirate talk for anal?

  I’d find out when I got back.

  I walked over to the door completely naked and undid the lock. “Okay, what’s – ”

  As soon as I opened the door, Stig came tumbling in like someone had kicked him inside.

  Which they had.

  On the other side of the door stood a bearded guy in black robes, with a long scar and a murderous scowl on his face.

  Behind him in the hallway stood another dozen or so pissed-off members of the Dungeon Guild.

  “Oh SHIT!” I yelped, and raised my hands to cast a spell –

  But the guy in the doorway got me first.

  Red lightning blasted out of his hands and sent me flying backwards 15 feet into the bedroom.

  WHAM!

  “IAN!” Alaria
screamed as I slid across the floor.

  She jumped up, ready to attack –

  Until a rapier slashed through the air FWISH! and the tip paused at her throat.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” a very naked Tarka said from where she knelt on the bed.

  “You fucking bitch!” Alaria shouted.

  “Well, I am a bitch, and we were fucking, so I suppose that’s accurate,” Tarka conceded with a smirk.

  By now the dozen Dungeon Guild members were inside the room.

  Four hunters had their bows drawn, their arrows aimed at my head…

  Four paladins and warriors had their hammers and swords poised to strike…

  And four mages pointed threateningly with their outstretched hands.

  The mages were aiming at Eluun and Meera. Everybody else was focused on me.

  I quickly selected one of them –

  Level 75.

  Shit.

  If eight Level 75 hunters, paladins, and warriors hit me at once, I was going to be dead within two seconds.

  It was pointless to try and fight back.

  The scarred mage who’d blasted me sneered at all of us. “Degenerates.”

  I struggled up onto my elbows. “Yeah, well, you should try it sometime.”

  Despite their threatening demeanor, I could tell several of the Guild members really wanted to ‘try it sometime,’ judging by the furtive looks they gave all the naked women in the room.

  “I’m sorry, boss,” Stig whimpered from where he lay crumpled on the floor. “They said they wouldn’t kill anybody if I did what they said.”

  “And we won’t,” the scarred mage growled. “IF you come quietly.”

  “It’s okay, buddy,” I said comfortingly to Stig. “They would’ve gotten us anyway.” Then I turned and glared at Tarka. “Seeing as we had a traitor in our midst.”

  She shrugged. “Had to do what’s best for me.”

  “What about our deal?”

  “Avoiding torture and death was a better one.”

  “You were supposed to alert us as soon as they came aboard,” the mage snarled at her.

  Tarka grinned. “What, and miss all the fun?”

  The mage shook his head in disgust. “Get dressed – all of you.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  He smiled grimly. “To see the warlock.”

  Great.

  I checked my portal timer:

  3:31:32.

  Not horrible, but not good, either.

  If I could just stall long enough, everything might work out.

  We all got dressed as the Guild members kept watch, ready to strike at a second’s notice.

  At one point Alaria caught my eye and raised one eyebrow.

  I knew what she was asking:

  Attack?

  I gave her a subtle shake of my head.

  No.

  I could afford to get killed because I would reappear back at my Gravesite. And if Alaria, Meera, or Stig died, I could resurrect them.

  But if Eluun died, that was it. She was gone forever.

  Even if the Guild didn’t kill her, they would undoubtedly use her as a hostage, and the rest of us would be forced to surrender to save her.

  No… better to wait for a chance to escape.

  Or so I thought.

  I probably should have taken a chance while we had it, because after we were dressed, the Guild members snapped manacles on all of our wrists.

  Magic-dampening handcuffs.

  All the spell icons on my menu immediately greyed out – unusable.

  Shit.

  The Black Robes also bound Alaria’s and Meera’s wings to their bodies with silver chains.

  Smart. I had been thinking about yelling at everyone to dive off the side of the Revenge when we reached the top decks. Meera could grab Eluun midair, and Alaria could save me and Stig. But with their wings unusable, the escape option was kaput.

  The Guild members herded us back through the hallway and onto the top deck. It must have been about 5:30 AM. A tiny glow on the horizon foretold the dawn, but overall the early-morning darkness just accentuated the fires burning in the pit.

  The Black Robes forced us onto the three floating skiffs they had used to board the Revenge, now docked along its starboard side. The Guild thugs separated us – Eluun and Meera on one boat, Alaria on another, me and Stig in the third. I held him consolingly as he trembled in my arms.

  Tarka walked over to the railing and watched it all with a blank expression.

  I glared at her. “You know, the last time we left this ship, I argued with Alaria to let you live. Next time we meet, it’s gonna be a different story.”

  “Good luck, landlubber,” Tarka replied emotionlessly. “For what it’s worth, I enjoyed fucking you.”

  “You mean fucking me, or fucking me over?”

  Tarka didn’t answer. She just turned and walked away.

  Then the skiffs lowered through the air and zoomed down towards the edge of the pit.

  As we flew closer, sounds became more distinct. I could make out the individual shouts and curses of the men battling the creatures in the pit… and the screams of the wounded became even more horrifying, like damned souls in torment.

  I also heard that unnerving noise the rogue dungeon gave off: the old sci-fi sound effect from the 1950s War Of The Worlds, like a swarm of cicadas from hell.

  ch-ch-ch-Ch-CH-CH-ch…

  ch-ch-ch-Ch-CH-CH-ch…

  The skiffs swooped around the edge of the pit, and I began to have unsettling flashbacks to Return Of The Jedi. If these black-robed bastards tossed us into this OtherWorld version of the Sarlacc, there wouldn’t be an R2-D2 to shoot a lightsaber through the air and save the day.

  But it turned out I wouldn’t have to pull off any Jedi acrobatics or other miracles. The skiffs landed near the Guild’s main camp, about 200 feet away from the front line.

  The other Black Robes escorted Eluun, Meera, and Alaria out of the boats without any ado – but the scarred mage shoved me so hard I face-planted on the ground. Stig had to leap out of my arms to avoid being crushed.

  I jumped back up and whirled around on Scar, enraged. “What the fuck?!”

  “That was a love tap,” he snarled. “You deserve to be drawn and quartered.”

  “For what?! What the fuck did I do to you?!”

  “You killed the Grand Inquisitor.”

  Ah.

  Now the hostility was a little more understandable.

  “No I didn’t,” I snapped. “That was Urik, some asshole from the Church of Eternity who was trying to take over Vos. He’s the one that planted the fucking dungeon core that killed Quint, not me.”

  “You impersonated him.”

  Okay, that part was true… but there was a caveat.

  “I didn’t know I was impersonating him. Everybody just assumed I was Quint because I was wearing black robes – I didn’t even know what a Grand Inquisitor was.”

  “It’s still punishable by death.”

  “You know,” I said sarcastically, “everything with you guys seems to be punishable by death.”

  “You were also in league with the dungeon core.”

  “What?! No I wasn’t!”

  “Survivors testified that it rescued you from the Grand Inquisitor.”

  “Oh – Deek, yeah, but – ”

  “He calls it by name,” Scar said contemptuously to his men.

  “Because that’s his name,” I said angrily. “All of Vos was built around him, and he never did anything but help the city. I certainly wasn’t friends with this one,” I said, gesturing behind me towards the pit.

  “As though being in league with any dungeon core is defensible.”

  “Or maybe you guys are just murdering assholes, you ever thought of that? I know for a fact you’ve destroyed dungeon cores that never would have hurt anybo– ”

  I didn’t get that last word out because Scar punched me in the face.

  OW.

  I
went staggering back, but I kept my footing.

  “Ian!” Alaria cried out.

  “The only reason I don’t kill you is the deal I made with the warlock,” Scar sneered.

  “The only reason I don’t kill you is because you’re too much of a pussy to fight,” I snapped, then lifted up my manacled hands. “You’re a big man when I’m in chains and you’re backed up by a dozen other guys – why don’t you take these off and let’s see what’s what, asshole?”

  Besides the hatred in his eyes, I saw a glint of indecision. He actually started towards me, his hands reaching out to take off the manacles.

  Do it – DO IT! I screamed inwardly.

  If he fought me one-on-one, I might be able to ‘accidentally’ stumble over to Alaria and free her, at which point she could get Eluun to safety – which would drastically improve our options.

  And then somebody with a lot more sense ruined everything.

  “Begging your pardon, Captain,” one of the paladins spoke up, “but the warlock is expecting us.”

  Scar paused… then spun me roughly around. “Move, scum.”

  “Fuck you,” I snarled as he forced me to keep moving.

  Our guards marched us past dozens of other Black Robes staring us down. Explosions briefly illuminated the sides of their faces, then faded out until their features were swallowed by darkness.

  All around us, cannons roared…

  Flares went off…

  Men screamed and shouted…

  Monstrous silhouettes scuttled past the fires in the pit…

  And all the time, there was that ever-present ch-ch-ch-Ch-CH-CH-ch… ch-ch-ch-Ch-CH-CH-ch.

  It was a hellish vision… and it seemed oddly familiar.

  It took me a second to place it, but I knew what had inspired the horrors around me: the Do Lung Bridge scene in Apocalypse Now.

  Captain Willard, played by Martin Sheen, has been traveling in a small patrol boat up the fictional Nung River when he and the crew reach the Do Lung Bridge in the dead of night. The bridge is the last outpost on the river still controlled by the US military; beyond it lies the dark heart of the jungle, ruled by the insane Colonel Kurtz, played by Marlon Brando.

  Kurtz has gone rogue and is using ‘questionable methods’ to fight the Viet Cong. The US Army has sent Willard to assassinate him.

  The Do Lung Bridge is a portrait of hell. Darkness…. explosions… flashing strobes… discordant carnival music, followed by screeching Jimi Hendrix guitar solos… the faces of hopeless men in the trenches… a half-mad soldier screaming as he fires his .50 caliber machinegun into the night.

 

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