by ilo man
Vinnie rolled on to the bed, his pants by his ankles, his hands behind his head, his body simmering in post-cum bliss, his eyelids getting heavy, his sleep coming fast. Dreams of Angel filled him, of her squatting over him, of that blissful sight. He dreamt of her sinking down, her gyrating. Then felt her heat on his cock, felt her pussy envelop him, its tongue working his helmet.
Its tongue?
Vinnie opened his eyes and groaned. Mary-Lou’s head bobbed up and down in the moonlight, a golden halo matching his golden groin. His energy raced back. She gasped, looked up, said: “Oh good God, Vinnie, just where have you been hiding. Fuck yeah,” she said, then pulled up, hitching her skirt, mounting him. “Fuck yeah, Vinnie, I’ll stay and fight.” She slid down his length, holding once she enveloped him, once the ring touched her clit and the gold exploded out, racing up her like an aura. She ripped off her top, releasing her fabulous breasts, then unlacing her skirt and merely tossing it away.
He saw her virility, its silver strands reaching out to him, entwining, vanishing into her thick hair, into his golden strands, silver and gold mixing, becoming one. She started sliding up and down, leaning backward at first, exposing her self completely to him. Plunging down frantically, her groans becoming guttural, earthy, and urgent. She snapped forward, her hand grabbing at his chest now, her pace, blistering, and she sought her fulfillment without consideration for his, cumming, her heat spreading across his groin, seeping between his legs.
“Wow,” she said, sliding off him, lying beside him for a moment, then pushing herself up, scooping up her clothes, and slipping out of the room.
Vinnie lay on the bed, strangely un-sated. Mary-Lou had taken her pleasure and finished before he had. He felt curiously disappointed and wondered if that was the feeling his old lovers had been left with.
Your Esteem value has changed! You old value was 9. You pleasured Angel to mutual satisfaction. The land awards you one esteem. Your new value is 10.
Your Esteem value has changed! You old value was 10. You pleasured Mary-Lou letting her take her satisfaction. The land awards you one esteem. Your new value is 11.
He made to check his stats, knowing they hadn’t moved since he’d first woken in this very room, but a clatter outside made him jump, then jump up, scrambling for his pants, pulling them up. He had to see Fin, to go and hide in her room before anyone else came, literally. Maybe it had all been a test. He needed to speak to her, to explain he’d been weak, to tell her Little Red’s plan.
He had to help The Wanton Witch, poor Fin.
He tip-toed out onto the landing. Three doors presented themselves.
Hers was the…
He span, pointing at one, then another, then the last.
Hers was the…
Another clatter rang out, this time from upstairs. Voices, loud voices came from below as well. He spun around, looked up, looked down, bolted for Fin’s door.
“Well hello,” said Fallon, and she dragged Vinnie in, slamming the door. “We haven’t got long. Angel said your ring’s incredible.” She double-checked. “I mean, she said you were incredible. Let me see it.”
She pushed him back against the door, kneeling, pulling down his pants. Vinnie looked, more in hope than expectation, but found his cock springing free, eager, ready to please again.
“The extra virility,” he gasped, relieved but still in a precarious position. Fallon’s lips flowed over Mini Vinnie like a wave of desire breaking against his groin. They traveled around his end, onto his hot shaft, and up, seeking out the ring, nuzzling his base. Her hand reached under, cupping his balls, squeezing gently. His manhood eased into her throat. He gasped in pleasure as his golden force erupted again, and Fallon slid back until her lips kissed his tip. Again, her head plunged forward, and his length slid into the back of her mouth. Forward and back, forward and back, Vinnie groaned, the pleasure too much. Fallon backed off, pulling him urgently into the room, bending over, offering her ass. “Fuck me, Vinnie, before Fin and Angel get back.”
Vinnie obliged, as quick as humanly possible. Thoughts of Fin plagued his mind, curiously, oddly, and he realized he was just going through the motions with Fallon.
Golden aura, Fallon screamed, all done—Vinnie bolted for the door, pulling his pants up on the way. “Gotta fly,” he shouted, yanking the door open, bolting out onto the landing, just in time to hear Fin coming up the stairs, chatting with Angel and Mary -Lou.
He was disorientated. His eyes darted from one doorway to the next. In panic, he bolted up the steps. Round and round he went, falling into the newly stocked armory.
“Well, well, well,” said Tinderell.
“Oh fuck me,” said Vinnie.
Tinderell ruined him. The elf was insatiable, and judging by her demands, had been left unsatisfied for an eternity. Halfway through, Vinnie sensed that she was using him, that it was the ring’s power she was after not him. Worse, he decided she wasn’t the only one. Mary-Lou, Angel and Fallon had all just wanted to try the ring. He was just the filling in the sandwich, the sausage in the hot dog. So, it was with a heavy heart that he traipsed back down the stairs, turned the entirely correct way, and slowly opened his bedroom door.
He staggered to his bed, pulling his pants off, his shirt too, and falling onto its soft mattress, exhausted, spent and feeling utterly used. Thoughts of Little Red’s plans plagued his sleep, and he woke, hankering to see his demon, hankering to share Red’s plans with Fin.
He felt rejuvenated and welcomed the new day.
The sun beamed in through his window, the window that Fin had thrown an apple core out of on his very first day in Hundenwyrdich.
It seemed a long time ago.
He sat up and saw Little Red on the table by the chair that Fin had sat in. Marlo must have brought Little Red back sometime during the night.
He dressed fast, urgency suddenly filling his heart.
“I need to speak to Fin,” he told Little Red.
“You’ll have a job. Fin’s gone, she doesn’t exist anymore.”
Vinnie’s heart stopped. “Why? What?”
“Fin’s gone, only The Wanton Witch remains, and she’s gone to face Sivatious, gone to give him what he wants.”
“Why?”
“Because she wanted you and you inside-outed her.”
Vinnie’s jaw dropped. “But I was just a project to her, a nothing, just someone she was supposed to knock into shape. She wanted me?”
Little Red shrugged. “What can I say? Tinderell told me she’d decided she wanted more, said that she thought she had feelings for you. Of course, Tinderell didn’t really want to say a lot seeing as she’d only climbed off your cock about ten minutes before Fin went to see her. Anyway, you want the good news?”
Vinnie’s heart leaped. “What?”
Little Red smiled, squirmed a little, “I thought you’d have spotted it—got the notification. I leveled up last night. One more level and it's you and me, baby. We can forget everyone and crack on harvesting energy.”
He looked up his notifications.
Level 4!
Your demon has reached level 4.
As Little Red gets stronger, so will you, at level 4 she will influence your surroundings, manipulate most stone & can talk to multi-celled organisms. Your demon’s influence will now extend fifteen feet in all directions away from her core. As you have helped your demon to level (mostly Marlo though), the land rewards you with 500 XP. You now have 12,300 XP and are 7,700 XP short of level 7.
When your demon attains level 5, she will be able to form your residence. Each type of core forms a different type of dwelling. Your demon will form a dungeon. The mechanics of the dungeon will be revealed as it is formed and grows. To commence the construction of the dungeon you must plunge the core into the ground at your selected location and say the sacred words:
“Oh Demon Core, oh Demon Core,
Build me a dungeon
Thanks.”
Once done, your core cannot move except by
building its way along.
Do you understand? Y/N
Vinnie’s jaw dropped. “Dungeon?” Wait a minute, he thought. Was that why she’s wanted a damp place and slimes n’ stuff.
“Oh yes,” said Little Red. “Trust me; dungeons are the only way to go. At level 5 my influence will be twenty-five feet all around, at six it’s fifty—think of the potential.”
Vinnie nodded, and selected the next, now annoying, blinking pip.
Your Esteem value has changed! Your old value was 11. You pleasured Tinderell letting her take her satisfaction over and over. The land awards you one esteem. Your new value is 12.
He waited and waited.
“No point for Fallon?” Vinnie was curiously disappointed about that…and Fin, of course, yes, and her going. “Plus 12 eh, well, let’s have a look.”
Attribute (Value x Esteem modifier = True Value)
Health: 3 x 2.2 = 6.6
Stamina: 3 x 2.2 = 6.6
Strength: 3 x 2.2 = 6.6
Agility: 3 x 2.2 = 6.6
Intelligence: 6 x 2.2 = 13.2
Mana: 60 x 2.2 = 132
Virility [Cumulative True Value]: 17.42 x 2.2 = 38.3
Perception: 3 x 2.2 = 6.6
Compassion: 1 x 2.2 = 2.2
“Fuck me!” he said. “No wonder my balls feel like church bells ringers!”
Little Red beamed. “Another Level or two, and I’ll be itching to drain them.” She sent him a seductive wink.
Vinnie’s thoughts returned to Fin.
“But Fin?” he muttered.
Little Red blew him a kiss. “So what? You fell head over heels in love with Lavender.”
“Did not.”
“Yes, you did before she went nuts. Then Atrixa—don’t tell me you didn’t hold a candle for her.”
“No, yes, no, yes, it doesn’t matter. Yes, this land’s amazing. I meet people that like me for who I am—”
“Newsflash, Vinnie, it’s not you—it’s your dick. You got a one-eyed wonder weasel the size of an armorer’s anvil, and a ring that makes them cum like an exploding milk churn. Meh! I’ll give you Atrixa—she liked you. Fin, it seems her too. I’m changing my mind; it’s you not your dick.”
Vinnie beamed.
“Nah,” Little Red added. “It’s the dick.”
Vinnie gritted his teeth and made some strangled noises as he tried to calm. “Look, it doesn’t matter if any of them liked me or my dick, I liked Fin.”
“And Atrixa.”
“Both, and you forgot Velvet.”
“Who?”
“Before your time. All I know is that this place makes me want to love people, want to be with people, and not with an empty bottle and a fat one.”
“So, you wanna beat Sivatious for real?”
“Yes!” he cried, and suddenly realized he really did. Realized that his words weren’t all mush—that he wanted to be in this land forever, wanted it to endure, just how it was. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that bastard destroy it.”
Little Red eyed him, her gaze testing, probing, gauging. “You really mean it, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And you like my plan?”
“Yes.”
“Then promise me something.”
Vinnie raised her up, peering into her core. She’d grown again, and he could see why she’d need to break out from the crystal soon. Her expression was fixed, unreadable.
“Can we beat Sivatious?” He asked her.
“That wasn’t the deal.”
“Then what?”
“The deal was that we’d have fun trying. Do you want to alter the terms? Do you want to beat him?”
Vinnie hesitated for a mere second. “More than anything.”
“The promise me something, on your eternal soul.”
“Anything,” he whispered.
“Just that,” she said. “Promise me you’ll do anything to beat Sivatious. Promise me that you won’t stop until it’s done.”
“I promise.”
She nodded. “Now, let’s get going.”
“Where to?”
“Catch up with The Wanton Witch.”
“Not Fin?”
“I told you, Fin’s gone.”
“Can I bring her back?”
She cocked her head. “That, I can’t promise you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Vinnie saddled up.
He’d declared his days of bareback riding well and truly over. While it had been fine for a small trip down a gentle escarpment and back, his caboose still ached to buggery. It might well have been from Tinderell’s raking fingers, or the fact that he’d spent most of the night exercising his gluteus maximus, but he chose to believe it was the gentle ride he’d had with Fin.
The other bonus was that his junk was a little more comfortable, and that was a bonus indeed. His stones were damn tender, like his near forty virility points had swelled them to beyond bursting. Vinnie was beginning to wonder how on earth he’d cope when it climbed even farther.
Fallon had sewn a pocket into his saddle, just for Little Red, and his Demon Core now sat holstered within it, Little Red herself peeking out of the top. His staff was strapped to the other side, his mace and club just behind. Vinnie’s eyes glared around, shaded by his new, wide-brimmed hat. A cigarillo dangled from his lips.
“You ready?”
After much deliberation and plenty of arguments, he’d relented and allowed Angel to come. Mary-Lou wanted to, as did Marlo and Fallon. He secretly thought Tinderell wanted to as well, and Sportdamant too. One-by-one, mostly on Tinderell’s promise of fun, they’d relented, all except Angel.
“You’re Novice, Novice, Novice,” she’d told him, relaying his feeble stats. “Fin’s a day in front and probably traveling fast—she’s got porting available to her and more, so we’ll take a while to catch her, if we ever do. I’ll train you up on the way. It’s your only hope.”
Vinnie had seen sense in that and secretly been relieved. The bravado of his trip soon fading when its lonely reality dawned on him.
“Ready,” said Angel, all poncho and knee-high n’ boots, and she nudged her horse forward. Marlo pulled the castle gates open, and both of them walked their horses through.
The castle gates looked south toward The Grand Central Forest, and on to the mountain range behind. Vinnie wondered about Atrixa and Sorrell, about Velvet and the others. He wondered if he shouldn’t just head south, forget his bold promises, and just have some fun, enjoy the game until Sivatious turned the lights out on it. Surely he could find another game?
“It’s the NPCs,” Angel said, suddenly.
They were headed down the castle approach—a long stone road that snaked the hill in tight curves and long shallow runs, all banking on top of one another. Merchants packed the road pulling up cartloads of food, wine, ale for the stores, and stone, wood and ore for defense. Tinderell was preparing. If a siege came, she’d be ready. It was up to Vinnie and Little Red to make sure that it wouldn’t last beyond the fun part.
Vinnie pulled the brim of his hat lower and tipped the collar of his coat up. He wanted anonymity. He wanted to avoid Sivatious’s assassins but didn’t want to draw attention by looking daft. He’d cut his pant pocket for ease of access to his ring, just in case he needed to turn invisible.
“What is?” he asked. “What’s the NPCs?”
“The reason you can’t let this land go. Once you start liking the NPCs, once you realize how real they are, it’s hard to look at it like a fake land anymore.”
“I think Sorrell is my favorite so far. He’s a half-giant. A gentle soul.”
“All giant’s are, that’s why they get used and abused.”
Not once I bring Sivatious to his knees…
“How far ahead do you think Fin is?” Vinnie asked.
“I don’t think about it. I dread to think about it.”
They rode on in silence, her words confusing him, or maybe bemusing him. NPCs? He wasn’t s
ure that was it—or all of it. He’d been dragged into his pod kicking and screaming—nearly—well the goblin had tempted him, but certainly without any hopes of anything other than hiding out and ducking the bad press coverage. Instead, he’d found challenges, and had overcome them, all without getting wasted and hiding in the bottom of a bottle of Jack. It was a strange feeling, and it led him to a strange conclusion.
He loved reality, the only problem he had was, the reality he loved was no reality at all. It was this virtual reality.
They wound their way down, all the way to the river, and then along, Angel leading. Vinnie shivered with horrid memories as they passed the tavern by the willow trees, and he briefly wondered if Dave had made the cut and still had a job, but soon, Angel turned north. The very edge of the horizon was dark, tainted mauve and flashing with brilliant lightning.
Making steady progress, they left Hundenwyrdich behind them, its edifice receding as the afternoon passed. Angel forced Vinnie to stop about an hour before dusk, though he didn’t need much persuading. By then, they were in rolling farmlands, and she took a track off the road that led up to a farmhouse that was graced with a thatched bonnet and watertight barn.
The farmer, his wife, and children were NPCs, and had no intention of running or hiding. They accepted coin in return for a berth in the barn and a pot of hot broth. Vinnie too exhausted to do anything but stable his horse and collapse in a pile of fresh-cut hay. At some point in the night, Angel must have draped a blanket over him, tucked him in and pulled his boots off.
He didn’t wake until morning, but that was to a sharp jab in the stomach. Angel stood over him, her staff in hand.
“Sun’s bleeding amber,” she said and tossed him his staff.
They sparred until dawn had broken properly—staff, chainsticks, mace, and club. Vinnie was amazed at his progress with the awkward sticks—well, awkward they’d been to start with, moderately fluid by the end. She’d steered him right, all that time ago, and having it as his main skill really helped. It was just so smooth to learn like he was a natural, a true adept. By the end of their session, he still had a clean sweep of novice rankings but felt a little more accomplished.
