by Albion, Rex
Roxy nodded enthusiastically. “That’s right. The best kind.”
“Yeah, and you’re a Shaman, so you want a good staff, right?”
Roxy giggled, “You know I do, baby.”
“Then when I’ve taken care of that, we’ll be ready to fight the guards and I can let you out,” Vandal said. “How confident are you that you are getting this right?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m getting it, yes. Care to bet on who comes?”
“No, I think I’d lose that, and I only have a few starting coppers,” Vandal said, distracted by the important task of figuring out where he could get her a weapon like a staff. Perhaps he could hack one of the table legs off. They were only level one cultists after all, an improvised weapon might be enough, though in games they rarely did much damage, neither did anything else. Even his magic sword was only a 1-6 damage weapon with a bit of a glow and probably some properties that meant it was bright, shiny and not old and rusted.
“More than I have. Everything you see on me, is my starting kit,” Roxy said, lifting her arms up, which only emphasised her impressive but beautifully balanced cleavage as she did a slow turn for him. She gave him a provocative wiggle of her curvaceous hips which caused her short kilt skirt to lift up just enough to expose her bottom.
Apparently, goblins didn’t get underwear at level one, unlike humans. He was grateful on both counts. Firstly, that he did get some and his linen undergarment was preventing his absurdly brief leather codpiece. Well, he wasn’t sure what it was really but at least it wasn’t chafing. He supposed it might count as a codpiece, as it had a big bulge in the front, and little else. At least he had room for his most valuable possessions, though not an abundance of it.
Secondly that Roxy hadn’t got any, unless of course she’d just removed them. He got an unobstructed view of the best bottom he’d ever seen in real life. He knew he was dead in the sense he no longer had a living body, but this felt just like life, with a game laid over it. Only in no game he’d ever played, had a woman he was starting to like, had an avatar like this, or been so blatant in her use of innuendo.
Roxy was facing him now, her hands on her hips which were set at a jaunty angle, in a pose that begged him to size her up, which he hadn’t stopped himself doing. Nothing about her expression said, she was anything less than flattered but still he felt bad.
“You like what you see.”
“Yes, of course. The physics modelling is very lifelike, and the ray tracing is just unbelievable. Everything bounces perfectly. It’s, just,” Vandal said, trailing off.
“Perfect?” Roxy finished for him.
“Yeah,” he said, feeling lame that he couldn’t think of something better to say. She must think he was some kind of colonial idiot.
“It wasn’t a question,” Roxy said, sticking out her arm and pointing down at him. He followed the direction of her gaze, and the accusatory finger that made it clear she was talking about the bulge in his crotch. The leather wasn’t baggy enough, or thick enough to prevent his hard cock from tenting it.
Vandal felt his skin flush with blood, from his neck to his forehead. “No, I’m sorry, oh man,” he babbled as he turned away and adjusted his cock trying to make it somehow less prominent.”
“Nice ass,” Roxy said, unhelpfully. “A girl could really enjoy putting some teeth marks in those buns,” she said, in that delightful accent of hers. It didn’t help his state at all. He took his travel bag that was slung across his back, from shoulder to hip, and pulled it around his body, so it rested against his chest. The bottom covered his crotch a bit at least. Then he turned back around.
“Aww. What a shame. You covered up and you’re blushing like a beetroot,” she teased.
“I should see about getting you a weapon. I thought about a table leg. It’s a bit like a Shaman staff, right? Would that work for you?”
Roxy shook her head. “No, I don’t need that kind of weapon. I have magic, remember?” For emphasis she held up her hand and a purple nimbus of energy erupted around it. Fuck, that looks cool, he thought.
“Oh yeah, I should have thought. That’s got to be better than a table leg. What weapon do you want then?” he asked, somewhat puzzled when his mind got through to that point. If she had magic, what kind of weapon did she think she was getting in here that was better?
Roxy’s answer was to drop to her knees on the small cot in the cell, right where it was rammed up against the bars. Much like his sword, they weren’t rusted though he doubted they were magical, exactly, just good Elvish manufacturing. Then he realised it was still a game, and they were just pixels, no matter how much everything felt like it was as substantial as the real world. Or how good Roxy’s wildflower perfume smelt.
She pressed her face up against the bars, and looked up at him, sticking her dainty green arm through them, while she gripped the bar on the left side of her face with one tiny fist. Roxy pointed and said, “I want that weapon. Now.”
The beautiful goblin woman was kneeling on the cot before him, biting her lip in a way that he’d never been able to resist for a second, and giving him the intense, eye contact of deep longing that backed it up.
Her delicate hand was most definitely pointing right at his cock as light finally dawned for Vandal Lionheart, mighty barbarian warrior, and apparently, slow-witted on the uptake.
Oh, that weapon.
Chapter Five
“Please, brave hero. I’ll do anything, if you’ll only rescue me from these wicked men before they defile me,” Roxy pleaded. “Please say you’ll help me.”
Vandal nodded slowly. Was he really going to do this? Fuck yes, he was, he decided, unable to tear himself away from those big, cute eyes and her hungry expression. He needed that door open, now! But, when he went to try and pull it wide, Roxy’s hands caught him by the strap of his codpiece, and she tugged him toward her.
“No. The guards will come. It has to be like this,” Roxy said, pressing her face up to the bars, and opening her mouth wide. Her skin was green, and her lips were painted with rouge. But when she let her bottom jaw flop down, exposing bright white but human-like teeth, rather than the fangs he’d half expected, he saw her tongue.
It was broad, flat, and pink just like a human tongue in most respects. Except the tip reached the bottom of her chin and curled back toward her throat when she lewdly extended it to show off. Only by half an inch, but it was novel, nonetheless.
Roxy didn’t seem keen to wait, and both hands grabbed the straps of his loincloth now, at his flanks, trying to tug them down.
“You really want this?”
“Yes!” she moaned, with some evident frustration. “Please, good Sir.”
“Sir, is it?”
Roxy nodded. “Yes, Sir. If you rescue me, I’ll owe you a blood debt. Fealty. I shall serve you, however you want.”
“I see. You’ll do as you're told?” Vandal asked, starting to get into it.
“Yes, Sir. I promise. Anything. Anything you want.”
“I’m not sure I believe you. I’ve heard goblins can’t be trusted.”
“Lies, Sir, probably spread by jealous people. I can be trusted. I swear I’ll serve you in any way you see fit.”
“Will you indeed?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I think you need to prove it. Don’t you? Now how shall I have you prove yourself to me.”
“I don’t know, Sir,” Roxy said, coyly. “If I suggest something, won’t it seem like something I want to do?” she said, getting into a bit of a rhythm with him. It was a roleplay. An improvisation with no pre-arranged rules and in improvised theatre, he recalled, you were supposed to say yes to the other players. Would she go along?
“Yes, I must have you do things I suggest, otherwise it’s not a proper test, is it, Roxy?” Vandal said, tapping his lips with a forefinger, as if he was in deep thought.
“No, Sir. It should be all your ideas,” Roxy nodded enthusiastically. “Then you’ll know I’m just doing what you w
ant.”
“Stand up then, and be quick,” he barked. Roxy looked crestfallen, but she stood up quickly, her face a picture of disappointment that made Vandal’s lip quirk in a crooked smile.
“Now, strip off those ragged scraps you goblins seem to think are clothes. I want to see what kind of servant I’m getting out of this,” Vandal ordered
Although Roxy started to pull down her own loincloth which was all thick fur and no better than his own ludicrous affair, she was doing so in a teasing fashion.
“No, no, no. I said, strip off, not tease me. Just get that off, as quick as possible so I can inspect my property,” Vandal said, with as much of a commanding voice as he could muster. He’d never done anything at all like this, though he’d certainly spent time wishing his girlfriends were as experimental as Roxy promised to be. Was this going to be his life now, ordering girls to strip off for his amusement?
At first, he’d thought New Albion might be a bit boring. He’d heard it was a good game, that it was ultra-realistic and that you could have a banquet, swim, or even fuck and not be able to tell the difference. But he had scoffed at the marketing claims, not thinking it could be that big a leap from the VRMMO’s he’d played years ago. Being a Personality in the game though was just as real as life itself. His cock strained against his codpiece, and he could wait to get it off.
Roxy seemed really into it; her disappointed expression had changed to a bit of interest when he’d told her to strip. Now that he’d told her off and demanded she do so faster though, her face lit up as if this was the best thing in the world for her, and he supposed, from what she’d said, it was. She’d correctly deduced that he’d fantasised about his end of a heroic rescue, just as she’d imagined being kidnapped, held prisoner and being freed by a hero.
She’d gone from an achingly slow striptease to just pulling the furs off her body, and exposing every inch of her naked flesh. Roxy, stood on the cot, her eyes level with his six-foot six frame. He’d added six inches of height and he didn’t regret it one bit. She was looking at her feet though, as if ashamed.
Was he taking things too far? A thought came unbidden to him, and he composed himself as he got his words in order. “I am going to test you now, Roxy,” Vandal said.
“Wasn’t this the test?” Roxy said, gesturing at her naked flesh.
Vandal laughed, as cruelly as he could manage, “By the steel and the stars, goblin girl, no! This was merely so I could see whether you were pleasing to the eye. From this point on, I shall be making much more… intimate, demands of you. I need to make sure I have your complete loyalty, don’t I, Roxy?”
She looked up at him, a little afraid, but a slight smile was tugging at her lips, he thought. Roxy was still game. “Yes, Sir. You simply must, or how can we know if I can meet your needs?” she gushed.
“Exactly and because I must be strict with you, because a wench cannot meet the needs of a barbarian hero, if she is faint of heart, if you cannot fulfil your vow, you must say a special word.”
“What special word, Sir?”
“Necromancer.”
“Ew, they’re horrid, Sir. I don’t want to say that.”
Vandal laughed. “Exactly, you filthy little slut. If you’re offering yourself to me like this, I want to be able to accept. I hardly want to encourage you to say the word that will make me stop my tests, do I? Well? Do I, Roxy?”
Roxy shook her head, “No, Sir. You don’t.”
“Good. Now, come back to the bars, and present yourself to me. I want to inspect you closely. Feet shoulder width apart, slut,” Vandal ordered.
Dutifully, Roxy pressed her naked flesh up against the cold, silvery metal, and gasped at the feel of it on her breasts. He reached out, and found it pleased him when she flinched, ever so slightly. In anticipation of what, he wasn’t quite sure as he had no intention of hurting her, but perhaps her previous experience led her to believe he did?
Vandal caressed her cheek tenderly, as he watched her face for signs of reaction. She swallowed, either through nervousness as he had earlier, or in a masterfully enticing show of submissiveness. Yes, that was it, Roxy must surely be a submissive and she wanted his dominance. Right now, she needed him to take control, to satisfy her fantasy. They were hardly going to be able to repeat this scenario, but he would discuss her needs with her as soon as possible.
He stroked her hair, running his fingers through the shoulder length red curls. It was such an effective contrast of colour. Roxy let out a little moan, that he’d only heard the like of from his ex-girlfriend when he’d been engaged in pleasuring her with his tongue. This simple touch, of cradling her head in his big, thick, fingers, had produced a much greater reaction in this submissive young woman.
That too, he’d have to check with her later. He knew she was of consenting age, because it was an adults only game and you obviously couldn’t fake an account as a Personality because the specialists and doctors who did the mind transfer wouldn’t let that happen.
Not that they weren’t also thorough on checking identity with the VR gear that a part time player could log in with. Since it required a multiple stage biometric scan though, a teenager wasn’t going to be able to create an account for a game like this anyway.
“You will make a very pretty servant, I must say,” Vandal said. “I would have enjoyed having you back home when the nights were cold. You may be small, but you’d fit perfectly in my arms, your back pressed up against me, heating my bed. Would that have suited you, Roxy?”
“Yes, Sir. Of course, I would do anything for you.”
“Now you would, but I wonder if you would have been so malleable if you weren’t paying up for the blood debt you’re going to owe me,” Vandal said.
Roxy gasped when he kissed her through the bars, softly holding her head as he pressed his lips to hers and nibbled at her sweet flesh. If anything, it felt even better than he recalled real kisses he’d given and couldn’t think of a woman who’d responded so readily to his touch. Whose lips had parted at that perfect moment, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth and playing hers against him.
Hungrily he claimed her, and she made appreciative noises. Roxy was blushing and gasping when he broke the kiss. “Oh, Sir,” was all she could muster, as a comment. Vandal gave her a wolfish grin, his grip still firmly behind her scarlet flamed head.
With his left hand, he reached out and cupped her breast in his great palm, eliciting another gasp from the curvy goblin’s pouting red lips. Her pink tongue licked across them, moistening them and then she was biting her lip again, as he teased her perfectly formed nipples between thumb and forefinger, rolling and squeezing them.
Vandal watched and listened carefully to judge the effect his touch was having on her. There was a marked difference between a teasing stroke, and when he squeezed just a little, then even harder. The woman’s excitement level rose in concert with the slight wince that crinkled the smooth, green skin around her eyes.
“Yes, Sir,” she sighed. “Please. Just like that.”
“Please what?” he demanded.
“Hurt me?” she begged.
“Like this?” he asked. This was fucking wild, he thought. This insanely hot woman wanted this. When he’d lain in bed at night, while alive, he’d had some pretty kinky, filthy, and to him at least, downright forbidden thoughts as he stroked himself.
This incredible woman shared some of them and wanted him. She wasn’t shy or apologetic about it, either. She was direct. Bold. Eager. Fuck that was a relief. Roxy wanted him just as much as he wanted her, and she wanted it downright filthy.
This woman, who like him was now a Personality, trapped in a virtual world in an afterlife you only craved when you were alive. When you were dead, and you first came back to consciousness in the ASSET counselling room they used to check you were still sane, you were pretty pissed off about the situation. Being dead sucked.
The counsellor straight up told him within a few seconds that his swearing was normal, and
he had a right to feel angry. Also, that she could slap him quite hard if she thought it would help. Afterwards he realised she probably wouldn’t have done that, but it was a pretty good shock tactic to make him stop ranting for a moment.
His counsellor had confirmed it in a later session, no, no physical violence was ever used. But some people responded better to a harsh word when they were panicking and every case was reviewed to learn from so, they could predict what would bring people into realisation that they really were toast, as she indelicately put it, and would just have to deal with it, as quickly and safely as possible.
Toast had been another keyword flagged for his case. Ultimately, he’d spent a fair bit of time going over some of their conversations before he’d chosen this game, and in the light of rational clarity, could see she’d really helped him a lot. He’d sent her an effusive thank you email full of apology and gratitude for her help, and she’d congratulated him on coping so well.
His counsellor though, was a sixty-year-old woman who came into sessions through a VR unit and was very much alive. Roxy was younger, and only as alive as he was, existing as a post-human consciousness in a computer somewhere, or hopefully more than one. He assumed they were backed up and not reliant on a dodgy operating system. It would suck to wake up in another counselling session, being told you’d had the AI equivalent of a stroke due to a few lines of crappy mega-corps code.
“Yes. Yes. Vandal,” Roxy was crying out, and his thoughts cleared. He’d completely lost track, and his grip was quite tight. Her eyes were watering, but fuck if she wasn’t loving it anyway. Vandal backed off on the pressure though and kissed her again.
Her tongue worked against his desperately, her passion as intense as any kiss as he’d ever had. He’d clearly lost a little control, but it had only excited her, Vandal just wasn’t sure if he was quite as into it. If she wanted more though, if she wanted to take this to a relationship, they had all the time in the world to find out.
