Wanton Witch: XdCeX Online - Discretion Guaranteed. A LitRPG Series.

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Wanton Witch: XdCeX Online - Discretion Guaranteed. A LitRPG Series. Page 18

by ilo man


  “Plug me into one of those sheep,” Little Red demanded, ever eager to grow.

  “No,” Vinnie barked back. “We’ve yet to fuck this bit up. Let’s not make any enemies just yet.”

  “Meh, that’s rich coming from you. Might as well add the Wanton Witch to our ever-growing list,” she said, and Vinnie had to agree, it was a fairly large list given the short amount of time he’d been in the land.

  “There’ll be opportunities at the castle,” he told her, and he was sure there would be too.

  Lighting a cigarillo, Vinnie carried on.

  What he needed was a fast side quest. With the impressive total of 9800 XP, he only needed 200 to get to his next level. That would enable him to pump a point into health, something he felt he really ought to do. His stamina was fine now, not too shabby at all. If he could gain a few more levels, he thought he might at least become respectable, stat-wise.

  A carter came trundling toward him, a donkey pulling his cart, the cart itself empty, and surely returning from Hundenwyrdich market. “Good day to you,” said Vinnie, gaily, as the man neared.

  “Fuck off,” growled the carter, forging straight on, forcing Vinnie to scamper onto the fence. “Fuck right off,” the carter added for good measure and trundled off down the trail.

  Vinnie stared after him. “Fuck off yourself,” he shouted back, wondering what the hell was wrong with the man. Deciding not to worry about it, he carried on up the trail.

  Quest, he thought again, where the hell was he going to get one of those?

  He drew ever nearer the hilltop castle, the mass of rock separating it from the sprawling town below now even more daunting. The Wanton Witch certainly knew how to dominate. She could easily see all around, see him coming, for instance. Vinnie wondered whether she was spying on him right then, wondered whether she was stirring her cauldron full of eye of bat and ear of cat, or however it went. Her back bent, one eye much larger than the other, craggy, old, evil.

  He shivered at the thought, Atrixa’s image floating across his imagination. Her standing there, naked, just a girl, well, a half-elf, before a boy, waiting, waiting for kind words, for affirmation.

  The trail wound on, a stone bridge taking him over a huge river that circled the hill and rock ahead. A wooden wharf sat right by the impressive bridge. Vinnie guessed it was at least thirty feet below him. Hundenwyrdich was a real town, a huge place compared to Hartsfelt, and Vinnie wondered again about the man with the cart. Maybe the witch ruled the place with an iron fist, crushed any that opposed her.

  Maybe that was why the carter had been so angry.

  Behind the wharf, a trail led bankside, running off both west and east, the first of the town’s dwellings then sprouting up, some brick, some not. He could smell the town mixing with the river breeze. Whereas one was fresh and vibrant, the other had the distinctive taint of civilization.

  Another carter trundled over the bridge, just the look in his eye was enough that Vinnie said nothing. He pushed himself off the bridge’s lining parapet and carried on with his crossing, soon coming to the other side and stopping by the bank.

  Being late afternoon already, he decided that tomorrow would be the day to brave the castle.

  Ahead, the road continued up, soon lined by overhanging buildings, then vanishing into their press. Vinnie was reluctant to venture in, preferring the green of the riverbank and the trail along the bank. He hesitated, at a loss for what to do.

  “Can I help you, kind sir?”

  The voice caught him unawares. He jumped back, his heart in his mouth, soon recovering when he saw a young woman standing in front of him, a basket of fresh-picked flowers hanging from the crook of her arm. She had stunning hazel-green eyes and curly brown hair tucked into a white bonnet. Though small, her confidence made her ten feet tall, and she had that thing, that silvery aura he’d seen in a few others, and Vinnie knew that she had heaps of esteem and goodness in her.

  Perception Check: Jenny-May. Human. Innkeeper. Player.

  “I’m here to see the Wanton Witch. I’m told she can help me.”

  Jenny-May pressed her lips together. “She could,” she said, after a moment’s consideration, “but it doesn’t mean she will. Have a good afternoon, Vinnie,” she said and winked and wandered toward the riverbank trail.

  “Hang on, Jenny. I—”

  She turned, her simple, white, cotton dress swirling as she did. “Yes, Vinnie?”

  “I err…”

  “Yes, Vinnie?”

  He walked up to her, suddenly devoid of confidence. “I see you’re an innkeeper, I was wondering, I’m new, clearly, would you…have any spare rooms?”

  She threaded her free arm through the crook of his and steered him along the eastern path. “Oh Vinnie, there’s always room for one more.”

  They walked the riverbank, past bulrushes, and billowing willows, along the outskirts of the town, eventually arriving at a large, almost stately tavern, sitting just back from the bank. “This is me,” said Jenny-May. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in the town’s center? It would certainly be more lively.”

  While Vinnie loved a pub and a club, the inn looked idyllic, with a timber frame and plastered fillets, a lofty tile roof, and leaded-light windows, he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect than this. “No, I had my fair share of fun this past week. If anything, I could do with a rest.”

  Jenny steered him down a stepping-stone path, between picnic tables and overflowing shrubs and into the homely building, all timbers and brick, roaring hearth and polished brass.

  “Miss Jenny,” said a man on his way out, and he tipped his head and bowed, though not before he glared at Vinnie.

  “Don’t mind him, grumpy old sod,” Jenny-May explained. “In Hundenwyrdich men and women are equal—some of the old folk don’t like it. They see every new male as more competition.” Her lips reached up to his ear. “In Hundenwyrdich, you have to excel to be successful. So, those who don’t, well, they turn into bitter, old men.”

  “A few of them about,” Vinnie noted.

  “Pull up a stool at the bar. It’s quiet at the moment but should fill up a little later. Or should I show you to your room? Would you like to freshen up?”

  “I could drink an ale,” Vinnie replied, quite pleased his luck had held this time.

  This was certainly a good base to start from, and if the Wanton Witch didn’t want to tutor him, he could hide out here for a while. Money wouldn’t be an issue, what with all the dwarven treasure rattling around in his Grand Sack of Holding.

  “Then you take a pew, Vinnie-me-love, and I’ll tell Dave to slake your thirst. Tell you what, while you rest up, why don’t I get Miss Mary to draw you a tub of fresh well water?”

  “That’d be grand,” said Vinnie, sitting at the bar, elbow on its polished brass counter.

  “Be back in a bit,” and Jenny vanished off around the horseshoe-shaped bar.

  A head rose up, scaring the living shit out of Vinnie. It was the head of an Adonis—curly black hair, olive skin and wide brown eyes. “Ale?” he asked, his tone quite sultry. He then stood tall revealing his naked chest, pecs a-rippling, shoulders so wide you could sleep on them, a waist so skinny he looked triangular, and just a tiny thong covering his junk.

  Vinnie did a double-take.

  “Please,” Vinnie squealed.

  Perception Check: Dave. Human. Gigolo. Player.

  “You here to work?” Dave asked. The name didn’t suit him. He didn’t look like a Dave.

  “See the Wanton Witch, actually.”

  Dave huffed. “Yeah, I remember that dream,” he scowled, turned, and started polishing his brassware. “I came here to seek the Wanton Witch. That was a year, maybe two, ago, so good luck with that.”

  “What happened?” Vinnie asked, taking a sip of the frothy ale.

  Dave’s head darted one way, then the next. He turned, leaned on the bar, leaned close. “I’ll tell you what happened,” he whispered. “This—” />
  But before he could answer, the color drained out of his olive skin, his eyes went wide, and mouth sagged open in a silent scream. Doubling over, Dave fell to the floor holding his thong-encased junk. “I wasn’t, I wasn’t, I wasn’t!” he begged.

  Vinnie stood, ready to leap the bar, but before he did, Jenny’s voice rang out. “Dave! Stand up and stop being such a baby. Vinnie, your bath is drawn, and your room is ready. Would you like to come with me?”

  He gawped at the bar, then back at Jenny-May. “Is he?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about him, he has the odd seizure, he’ll be as right as rain in a minute.” She waved Vinnie’s concerns away. “Now,” she steered him around the horseshoe bar and up a set of sweeping, oaken stairs, “you concentrate on you. Must have had a hell of a time marching through that horrible forest.”

  At the top of the stairs, she steered him straight to a large, carved door a little down the hallway. “Pride of place for you, Vinnie,” she said, twisted the door’s golden knob, escorting him into a luxurious room. Vinnie nigh salivated at the sight of its huge bed, easily a queen size, maybe a double. “Your bath’s drawn. I took the liberty of opening the balcony doors, setting a low fire and warming your bed, you know, if you don’t warm it yourself. Would you like anyone to attend to you? Dave? Any of the others?”

  “All men?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m all good,” said Vinnie. “Could do with a bit of alone time.”

  Jenny-May lent him a lingering look, her big brown eyes still sizing him up. “If you want, Vinnie,” she said, with a hint of disappointment. “Whatever Vinnie wants, Vinnie gets.” She pulled the door shut on her way out.

  Vinnie shrugged. “Freaking weirdo,” he muttered but had to admit Jenny-May was a fine looking woman. He unbuttoned his cape, took off his Morningstar, and untied the laces on his shirt, pulling it over his head, tossing it on the queen-size then sitting, pulling his boots off.

  The moment he’d stripped naked, he lay back, falling into the sumptuous mattress.

  “Bugger me,” he whispered. “This is the most comfortable bed in the land.”

  Quickly jumping up, he ambled over to the tub and slipped in. Its perfumed water made his head swim. He reached out for a bar of soap, sitting on a tray to one side, and plucked it up, standing and giving himself an all over scrub. A burst of pleasure rippled through his body, just brushing the ring with his hand enough to near send him to his knees in ecstasy. Rinsing, washing his hair, then hopping out and drying himself with a fluffy, white blanket, he dove for the bed wanting nothing more than sleep, sweet sleep.

  “Don’t do it. Vinnie,” Little Red warned him. “Don’t fall asleep.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Something’s up Vinnie. Something is terribly wrong with this place.”

  But Vinnie couldn’t head Little Red’s warning, he was already snoring, the bed too lavish, too soft, the pillows like fluffy white clouds. He lay there, asleep, and he dreamed of Velvet, of Lavender and Atrixa, and he moaned and gasped and gasped and moaned, his dream so real he could feel their tight pussies sliding up and down on his engorged cock.

  He opened his eyes, a moan escaping his lips.

  His vision was blurred, just a pale, shadowy figure bouncing up and down. The blurred body reached forward, grabbing at his chest, raking her fingers down his skin. Her cries filled his dreams. She was close. Gold billowed up from his manhood, engulfing the woman’s groin. Her cries grew, became guttural. Her fingers drew lines of crimson on his chest. The woman gasped one final time, shuddered, slumped forward briefly, and then dismounted, soon replaced by another, this one had ebony skin, like midnight.

  She came into focus, and Vinnie thought, What the fuck is going on?

  He tried to struggle, but he couldn’t move his wrists or his feet. It was then he heard the chanting, deep satanic chanting, and saw Jenny-May sitting by his side, as naked as he.

  “Don’t struggle, my Adonis, you’ve been a naughty boy, and naughty boys need punishing.”

  “What?” Vinnie cried as he gawped around the bed.

  A dozen, maybe more, all queuing for a piece of him.

  “And such a surprise too,” Jenny-May said. “Your ring, such a surprise, our master, Sivatious will be happy you stumbled across our way. I’d been looking for you for nearly a week.”

  “Sivatious?”

  He watched the woman on him pleasure herself until she was done, the golden magic like a cloud around the base of his shaft. She hopped off, and the next hopped on.

  Jenny-May roared a throaty laugh. “Sivatious, yes. Dark is all around us Vinnie; it is a shame that we can’t keep you, such a magnificent cock, such powerful balls. In case you’re wondering, the reason you haven’t cum is the soap. It’s infused with an inhibitor, there are thirteen of us, after all, and as I’m the last to go, I want some spark left in you.”

  “Can’t keep me?” he muttered, curiously uninterested in the red-haired beauty that currently rode him. Her milky white tits, her patches of freckles, blurring with her frenzy.

  Jenny-May continued. “Sivatious doesn’t want you—he doesn’t demand your body be paraded before him—that’s the downfall of too many a villain, but not him. All he asks is that we slit your throat, encase your sacks of holding in mortar, along with your respawn point, and dump you in the river. You killed his Witherer, Vinnie, and two of his subjects. He doesn’t need to see you, but when I take him your ring and slide it on his penis, then Vinnie, then I’ll sit at his side. Then my power will be complete.”

  The red-head screamed in ecstasy, not once but twice, high-pitched, whiny screams, and she pounded on his stomach. “Enough, Guinevere,” Jenny-May barked, looking round at her gathered, naked ladies. “have you all had your turn? Have all been satisfied? All cum at least once?” They nodded, and Jenny stood. “So long Vinnie,” said the cute little innkeeper.

  She turned away from him and bent over, Vinnie got an eyeful of neatly trimmed pussy, not that it was the foremost thing on his mind at that exact moment. She picked up a curved sword, much like a scimitar, and gradually lowered it onto his chest, blade down. She drew it slowly over his skin, blood welling up, then quick as a flash, reversed the handle and offered it to Guinevere. “When I’m done with his magnificent cock, slice it off and take the ring. Let him watch that bit. Then, when he’s done whimpering, chop his head off.”

  “Wait,” Vinnie said, but Jenny-May had already straddled him, easing herself down, gold magic billowing once more.

  “This ain’t good,” said Little Red. “Just be ready.”

  “What the fuck are you gonna do?” Vinnie screamed in his mind, while watching Jenny-May’s boobs bounce up and down, her sex working his boner frantically.

  “Influence things,” Little Red told him. “Wait for it.”

  Jenny-May pounded up and down, grinding her tight pussy on his golden ring, whimpering softly as the magic crackled over her quim. One of Vinnie’s bonds became super hot, the smell of burning rope mixing with the heady scent of sated sex. Vinnie felt his balls begin to twitch, tubes opening, tubes pumping. “Not now,” he muttered as his ejaculate gathered like a swarm of paratroopers ready to jump.

  “Yes now,” shouted Jenny-May as her pleasure peaked and hit a crescendo. She vibrated like an agitated tuning fork. “Now Guinevere!” she said and made to dismount.

  Vinnie’s hand came free, he screamed; “Equip Morningstar.” The bed listed badly to one side like its legs had vanished. Guinevere plunged to the floor, pussy first—her legs no longer where they should be. Vinnie sat partly up, his other wrist still strapped to the bed. He swung his Morningstar smacking Jenny-May on the head, caving her skull in, blood and mush splattering everywhere. The other women moved warily forward, the first dropping as her legs vanished too, her beaver smashing down on the floor with a hideous squelch.

  Vinnie waved his Morningstar threateningly. “Keep away,” he growled.

  “Call me into
your other hand,” Little Red commanded.

  “Got it,” Vinnie said, and did just that.

  His other bond grew superheated, his wrist springing free. The women rushed him, but he screamed “Windmill,” and swung his Morningstar in a deadly circle, skulls popping like melons in a wave of gore.

  “Plug me in Vin, gimmie my reward,” Little Red begged.

  Vinnie struck with his other hand, plunging the core into Ebony’s sweet neck. She was the last, down on her knees, reaching out as she fell, tugging on Vinnie’s cock as she went down in a heap, eyes blank, dead as dead can be.

  He stood, surrounded by dead, naked women.

  “My, my,” said a voice from the doorway. “Sivatious is gonna be pissed with you. That’s a third of his harem right there. Of course, they’ll all respawn back in his guild castle, but they’ll be esteem fines to pay, some back-dated, no doubt.”

  Perception Check: Failed. This player has high concealment.

  The woman strolled into the room, picking her way through the mush. She bent, looking down at Ebony’s neck, then up at Vinnie. “Is that a Demon Core?”

  She had tri-colored hair, reeled in two buns, then flowing down to her shoulders. Dark brown, light brown and red, it looked strangely alluring, though Vinnie wasn’t thinking about much else other that What the flying fuck just happened? She had a black, sleeveless, velvet waistcoat on, though it was quarter length if that, and two straps tied it in place, resting on her small but shapely breasts. No clothes covered her belly, her skin pale, but not overly so. A matching, short, skirt topped off her cheerleader-look, near thigh-high boots adding that extra kink.

  “Little Red,” Vinnie answered, still more than a little shocked by how his sleep had ended.

  “Well Little Red, you need feeding up,” she whispered, bending down, touching the core. “Has your master been neglecting you?”

  Vinnie swore Little Red was purring.

  The woman jumped up, pulling the core out of Ebony’s neck, she tiptoed over to Dead Red and plugged the core in the flame-haired girl’s pale skin. “They suck the life force carried by the blood, not the blood itself. Did you not know?”

 

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