Succubus 5 (Hardcore Dungeon Core): A LitRPG Series

by A. J. Markam

  “But I hate this dungeon core bullshit!” she whined. “It’s so Goddess-damned boring!”

  “OH, YOU JUST BOUGHT YOURSELF ANOTHER TEN HOURS OF BINDIN’ GOBLINS!” Deek yelled.

  “Go fuck yourself, you overgrown salt lick!”

  “WHO YOU CALLIN’ ‘SALT LICK’?! LICK THIS, BITCH!”

  “Hey,” I said, prodding Alaria, “you, uh… you mind if I give it a whirl?”

  “What? You mean you want to do dungeon core magic?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’d rather do that than fuck?!”

  The lament of every girlfriend whose boyfriend had the newest video game hot release.

  Which meant she wasn’t getting her own hot release, ha ha.

  “I’d rather not fuck in front of the overgrown salt lick,” I said.

  “YEAH, I’D RATHER YOU NOT, EITHER!” Deek yelled.

  “Come on,” I purred in her ear. “Let me take it for a spin.”

  “Fine,” she pouted, and crossed her arms over her chest as I began pushing menu buttons.

  It was awesome. There was now a dual mode for seeing what I was doing in the real world – I mean, uh, in the regular OtherWorld space.

  “You mind, Deek?” I asked as I entered ‘Build’ mode.

  “AS LONG AS YOU AIN’T FUCKIN’, YOU CAN DO ANY DAMN THING YOU PLEASE.”

  I began drawing tunnels, creating traps, erecting arches, and carving out windows.

  It was like Fortnite’s build mode on steroids.

  “DAMN, MEATBAG – YOU DOIN’ ALRIGHT,” Deek said with actual respect in his voice. “TOO BAD I CAN’T TEACH YOU ‘STEAD OF THIS UNGRATEFUL BITCH.”

  “Fuck off, Deek!” she yelled.

  “LONG AS YOU DON’T!”

  The five minutes were over far too soon. I gave my succubus a long kiss, and she pressed herself up against me like an insistent cat.

  “Please don’t leave me here,” she begged.

  “Babe, you’ve got to get more powerful so you can get back in your body.”

  “But it’s sooooo BORING.”

  “Hey, Deek – can we get just five more minutes?” I called out. “And no peeking?”

  “WHAT THE FUCK YOU TRYNA DO, MEATBAG?” Deek asked in a warning tone.

  “Give you a more willing pupil.”

  “…FIVE MINUTES, AND THEN YOU GOTTA GET THE FUCK OUT.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What are you – ” Alaria began, but I didn’t give her time to finish the question. I just dropped to my knees and yanked her panties down along with me as I went.

  “Oh,” she said, surprised.

  There really wasn’t any time for subtleties. This was going to be a strictly wham, bam, thank you ma’am kind of operation.

  I immediately parted her legs and began lapping at her clit.

  “Ohhhh,” she moaned, and gripped my hair in her fists.

  When she was good and wet, I licked my fingers and inserted two inside her pussy, then rubbed them against her g-spot as I began licking again.

  “Ohhhhhh,” she groaned, and thrust her hips forward into my face.

  She came about two minutes in – a loud cry accompanied by a shudder that ran throughout her entire body.

  Three more minutes to go.

  I didn’t even wait until she’d stopped coming all the way – I stood up, turned her forcefully around, and bent her over the nearest tabletop.

  “Oh!” she said, sounding pleasantly surprised.

  Then I undid my pants and pulled out my cock, which was already rock-hard, and plunged it between her dripping lips.

  “OH,” she cried out, then gasped as I began ramming into her as fast as I could, my belly hitting her ass with a fwop-fwop-fwop sound.

  I reached around and undid the clasp on her bra – something I’d done a hundred times before, so I could do it blindfolded – and cupped one of her dangling breasts in my palm.

  Then I pinched her erect nipple hard.

  “UNH,” she groaned, and used one of her own hands to pinch the other.

  Two minutes and counting.

  “You better get into whatever position feels best, and fast,” I told her as I withdrew my hand from her breast and wet my forefinger with my mouth.

  In answer, she bent down to the floor and grabbed her ankles with her hands.

  “You’ve never fucked me like this before,” she cooed.

  “Alright,” I said, and slowly eased my wet finger into her ass as I continued to pound away at her.

  “OH FUCK!” she cried out.

  I wanted to see what was going on, so I cast my All-Seeing Eye and got the perfect view.

  Her breasts bounced and jiggled with every slap of my body against her ass, and she cried out with every thrust.

  One more minute.

  Good thing, too, because I wasn’t going to be able to last much longer at this rate.

  “Are you going to come for me, baby?” I growled.

  “Yes… oh yes…”

  “Rub your clit,” I ordered. “Touch yourself for me.”

  Still bent over, she reached up and began to rub her clit as fast as she could, her hand a blur over her crotch with a wet schick-schick-schick sound.

  “OHHHHHH – OHHHHHH!” she screamed.

  “Fuck – are you coming?” I grunted, trying to hang on.

  “YES – OH GODDESS YES, I’M COMIIIIIIING – ”

  I felt a spray of hot liquid all over my balls and inner thighs as she squirted.

  That pushed me over the edge.

  “FUUUUUUCK!” I roared as I spurted deep inside her.

  I was able to manage maybe a dozen more strokes before I had to stop.

  She grunted as she slid off my still-hard cock, then stood up and kissed me hard, stroking my wet shaft in her hand.

  “That was awesome,” she whispered lustfully in my ear, then said playfully, “Let’s do it again.”

  “TIME’S UP, MEAT BAG!” Deek’s voice roared out.

  “Alright, I’m coming out!” I called. “Just ten more seconds.”

  “DON’T MAKE ME COME IN THERE AND GET YOU!”

  “See you later, babe,” I said, then kissed her hard on the mouth. “When we get you back in your body, we’ll do that all you want.”

  “…okay…” she sighed happily, and then poof! I was back in the great marble hall with my pants still up over my crotch – although I was sporting a pretty stiff boner.

  “I’m back,” I said.

  “AT LEAST SOMEBODY CAN STICK TO A SCHEDULE,” Deek griped.

  - Fuck off, Deek, Alaria said, though she sounded happy and sated with post-orgasmic bliss.

  “Be nice,” I chided her.

  - Fine…

  “I think I better be getting back so I can pretend to be a Grand Inquisitor,” I said to Deek.

  “THAT’S A GOOD IDEA. I DON’T THINK YO’ SUCCUBUS NEEDS ANY MORE BREAKS FOR A WHILE.”

  - Awwww…

  “AND DON’T FORGET – GIVE ME TO THE DUCHESS, NOT THE MIDGET.”

  “I remember,” I assured him.

  I looked over at Stig and Fugly sprawled out on the stone table. They lay on their backs in a drunken stupor and a food coma, their stomachs distended like they’d each swallowed a basketball.

  “Can I leave my demons here with you?” I asked Deek. “Stig, Fugly, and – ”

  At that exact moment, I heard a woman’s orgasmic shriek from somewhere deep inside the catacombs.

  “Oh, oh, ohhHHH FUUUUUCK – ”

  I would’ve bet a thousand bucks it was a certain plum-colored succubus. And seeing as her voice didn’t sound muffled at all, I was pretty sure I could pinpoint which of her orifices were stuffed with summer sausage.

  “YEAH,” Deek chuckled, “I DON’T THINK YOU COULD TEAR SORAIYA AWAY RIGHT NOW. SURE, LEAVE ‘EM WITH ME, I’LL TAKE CARE OF ‘EM FOR YOU.”

  “Thanks. And can you get me back up to Vos?”

  “CAN I GET HIM BACK UP TO VOS,” Deek muttered to himse
lf like he was complaining to a third party. “FUCK YES I CAN GET YOU UP TO VOS! I CAN GET YOU ANY DAMN PLACE IN THIS MOTHAFUCKIN’ KINGDOM!”

  “Dukedom.”

  “WHATEVER THE FUCK! JUST GO THROUGH THE DOOR!”

  A section of the marble wall crumbled like sugar cubes dissolving in boiling water. Inside, a circular copper platform glinted dully on the floor.

  “Um… no steps?”

  “YOU REALLY WANNA WALK UP A HUNDRED FLIGHTS OF STAIRS, MOTHAFUCKA?”

  Touché.

  “Is it an elevator?”

  “WHAT THE FUCK’S AN ELEVATOR?”

  “Uh – never mind.” I placed one foot inside the oval chamber and looked up into the darkness. There was nothing but pitch black after the first ten feet. “Can you get me somewhere near the castle, but not inside? Especially not the throne room?”

  “I CAN GET YOU ANY DAMN WHERE! JUST GO ON!”

  “Okay, okay. Sheesh. Bye, babe!” I called out to the tiny crystal still perched next to the much larger one.

  I heard Alaria’s voice answer in my head:

  - Come back soon! she cried out plaintively.

  “ALRIGHT, NOW GO ON AND GET UP IN THERE!” Deek commanded me.

  “Thash whah she said,” Stig burped drunkenly.

  As the polished metal circle lifted me up into the darkness, the last thing I heard was Deek’s raucous laughter.

  “HAHAHAHA! DAMN, IMP, YOU ALL RIGHT.”

  30

  Deek was as good as his word: the ‘elevator’ shaft opened up just outside the royal stables. As soon as I stepped onto solid ground, the copper disc dropped back down into the circular pit, and the cobblestones knit themselves back together as though nothing had ever been disturbed.

  Who needed LSD when you had a dungeon core rearranging matter for you?

  It was apparently just before daybreak. The stars were still out, but there was a faint glow on the horizon. Had I really been away that many hours?

  I breathed a heavy sigh and began pondering how I was going to handle Urik. The Duchess would be easy – there might even be a celebratory bang in there for good measure – but the dwarf was not going to be happy. Giving up 30,000 gold sucked, but at least Deek would make it up to me.

  My attention was diverted by muttering voices in the stables. I caught just snippets of their conversation:

  “…Emissary… dungeon… backup plan… Grand Inquisitor…”

  Grand Inquisitor?

  That was me!

  Curiosity got the better of me, and I walked over to the main door of the stables. It was a long, low-lying building with stone walls and a thatched roof. Judging by its size, it was probably capable of housing at least 100 horses. I could hear soft whinnying and snorts inside.

  I walked inside the doorway and immediately ran smack dab into a paladin in chain mail. His tabard was white and emblazoned with a black sword piercing a figure eight.

  “HOLD!” he barked, and raised his weapon.

  Ten feet behind him, another four paladins were standing around a large wooden crate filled with straw. A couple of them held torches, and the flames cast eerie shadows across the stables.

  As soon as they heard the guard yell at me, the paladins slammed the wooden top down on the crate and whirled around in a panic.

  I didn’t get to ponder what might be inside the crate because of the imminent threat of getting a sword embedded in my skull.

  “STOP – I’m the Grand Inquisitor!” I yelled.

  The guard lowered his sword and stared at me, his mouth agape. The other men behind him all had the same reaction.

  The apparent leader of the group walked over from the crate, eyeing me warily. “The Grand Inquisitor, you say?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Go ask Urik – the, uh, Emissary. He’ll tell you who I am.”

  The leader looked around at all the other paladins, who all stared back at him with gobsmacked expressions. None of them seemed to know what the hell to make of me, apparently.

  I was starting to get a weird feeling about all this…

  The leader addressed the others. “I’ll take him to the Emissary.”

  “Actually,” I said, “I’d like to know what’s in that box.”

  “Take it up with the Emissary when you see him,” the paladin said as he grabbed my arm.

  I pulled away from him roughly. “Hands off, bud! I’m the Grand Inquisitor, remember?”

  The paladin immediately withdrew his glove.

  It felt kind of cool to throw my weight around, though a little douchebaggy. Sort of like yelling Do you know who I AM? at the cops, but actually receiving deferential treatment instead of getting body-slammed to the ground and slapped in cuffs.

  The paladin bowed his head slightly. “My apologies… Grand Inquisitor.”

  He basically said it with air quotes – ‘Grand Inquisitor,’ like he was mocking me. I didn’t like his attitude, but I had just been sort of a douche.

  “However, I am under strict orders from the Emissary. If you wish to see the contents of that crate, I must get his permission first. And he is in the court, so I will take you there straightaway.”

  I could hear the Fuck you in his voice, but I ignored it.

  “Fine – take me to Urik,” I said, and followed him out of the stables.

  The entire time, I wondered what the hell he and his Church of Eternity bros were being so secretive about – and what they had in the crate.

  I’d find out soon enough, I was sure of it.

  31

  As we entered the castle, we got some pretty strange looks from the palace guard, who all stared at me in amazement. A few reached for their swords, but the paladin stopped them with one raised hand and a shake of his head. No.

  After that, the guards just fell in line behind us as we marched towards the throne room.

  Something was weird, but I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it. And I sure as hell couldn’t bail. What was I going to say? Uh, I changed my mind – I think I’m going to go for a walk now, thanks for everything. Yeah, that wouldn’t be suspicious at all.

  Plus, I needed to wrap up this whole situation with Urik. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, ‘give’ the dungeon core to the Duchess, and go collect my 30K in gold from Deek.

  I entered the throne room behind the paladin, with 20 palace guards at my back. There weren’t many courtiers – just the Duchess on her throne, Urik standing below the dais, and a couple of royal advisors.

  The paladin didn’t even need to announce my arrival. As soon as the Duchess saw me, she stood up from the throne.

  I was expecting her to be happy to see me – but I wouldn’t exactly call her look ‘happy.’

  More like shocked as hell for a split second, then FURIOUS.

  Urik glanced over to see what she was looking at, then had roughly the same reaction. His jaw dropped, and then he scowled like he wanted to kill me.

  Huh…

  I’d expected him to be mad, just not until I made my Grand Inquisitorial pronouncement about who owned the dungeon.

  Why were both of them pissed at me before I’d even said a word?

  “Duchess Evala,” the paladin said, “I present… the ‘Grand Inquisitor.’”

  There were the air quotes again.

  What the fuck was going on?

  The Duchess and Urik just stared at me in furious silence. Neither of them spoke.

  But another voice did.

  It was a man’s voice, gravelly and with an Irish lilt.

  “Ahhhh… I’ve been lookin’ forward to meetin’ you, ‘Grand Inquisitor.’”

  AGAIN with the fucking air quotes.

  But whoever was saying them sounded amused, unlike everybody else.

  I looked over to my left to see dozens of guys in black clothing – paladins, mages, and hunters – nearly hidden in the darkness beneath the throne room’s mezzanine.

  One man stood out in front of them. He was a big dude, six foot three, about 50 ye
ars old. He had a substantial belly packed over what looked like a very muscular frame, although it was hard to know for sure under all the shit he was wearing: a black cape over a black tabard over black chain mail, with black gloves and black boots. A massive sword hung at his side – in a black leather scabbard, naturally.

  He was square-jawed and tan, with long sideburns down the sides of his face, a scruffy mustache, and curly brown hair that had receded halfway across the top of his head.

  He grinned at me lopsidedly, exposing a couple of missing teeth. They didn’t look like they had rotted out; they looked like they had been bashed out during battle.

  That impression was reinforced by the long, angry scar that reached from the top of his scalp, across his right eyebrow, and down his cheek. The cornea of the eye was milky, like a blind man’s. It was an old wound, and an ugly one. Someone or something had damn near split his head open – but here he was, still alive.

  He had survived.

  I was guessing that whoever had wounded him, hadn’t.

  This guy was a fucking badass.

  He also looked familiar – and sounded even more familiar – though I couldn’t quite place him.

  He walked over to me, one black-gloved hand on the pommel of his sword. He grinned at me as he leaned in close, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath.

  “What an honor,” he chuckled. “After all, it’s not every day a man meets the fool tryin’ to impersonate him.”

  Ohhhhh SHIT.

  Fuck my life.

  The Duchess spoke up, her voice seething with rage. “Whoever you are, imposter, may I present the real Grand Inquisitor of the Dungeon Guild.”

  Suddenly a computer window appeared:

  You have failed the quest ‘Help a Dungeon Out, Yo!’

  You will not receive any gold or Experience Points.

  AWWWW SHIT.

  Fuck my life with a chainsaw.

  I had barely any time to pay attention, though, because Mr. Irish Badass began talking again.

  “That’s Grand Inquisitor of the Dungeon Guild, Seventh Order, to be precise,” he grinned. “My name is Quintus Deathlock, but since you’ve been passing yourself off as me for the last couple of days, you might as well call me Quint.”

  …Quint…?