by A. J. Markam
“You thought about fucking your Master, didn’t you?”
“Yes…”
WHAP!
“AH!”
I went back to stroking her clit – a little firmer, a little faster, with my skin fully touching hers.
“UNNNNHHHH…”
“You probably thought about taking your Master’s cock in your mouth, didn’t you?”
“Yes… oh yes…”
WHAP!
She cried out, though it was muffled in the bedspread, because she wasn’t able to hold her head up anymore.
“You enjoyed thinking about sucking my cock, didn’t you?”
She nodded into the bed cover. “Yes…”
WHAP!
She screamed into the cloth.
“You were thinking about fucking me, weren’t you?”
“Yes… yes…”
I put the tip of my finger up against her slit and paused.
“You were thinking of taking my cock inside your pussy, weren’t you?”
“YES,” she groaned, her hands balling the bedcover up in her fists.
“Like this,” I said, and eased my finger all the way inside her.
“OHHHHHHHH,” she moaned, and wriggled her ass against my hand, trying to take more in.
For the first time, I used my other hand to spank her. It was an awkward reach-around and not as powerful, but I wanted to keep my finger inside her pussy.
Whap!
“UNH,” she grunted.
“Yes or no?” I demanded as I began to move my finger in and out of her. There was absolutely no resistance, she was so wet.
“YES, OH YES…”
“You wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you?”
I began to move my finger rapidly inside her. Schick, schick, schick, schick –
“YES, OH YES – ”
Whap!
A muffled scream.
This was too much for me. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was in pain, I was so hard.
I shoved her forward roughly, extricated myself from under her body, and stood up. Quickly unbuttoning my fly, I pulled out my swollen, aching cock, then grabbed her and swung her ass around in front of me.
“You wanted him to fuck you like THIS, didn’t you?”
On ‘this’ I plunged inside her.
Oh God.
She was so wet.
So warm.
So soft.
“YES!” she screamed.
I remembered what she really wanted, though.
And this time the angle was perfect.
WHAP!
Her ass reverberated with the impact.
“YES!”
I began thrusting, feeling her wetness caress my shaft.
With every third or fourth stroke, I would slap her ass – HARD.
Every strike of my palm elicited an almost orgasmic cry of pain.
“You want to fuck your Master like this, don’t you?”
“YES, YES, YES – ”
WHAP!
“You want to come for your Master, don’t you?”
“YES, OH YES – ”
“But only dirty girls come, don’t they?”
“YES – ”
WHAP!
“Only bad girls come, don’t they?”
“YES – YES – ”
“Are you a bad girl?”
WHAP!
“YES!”
“Are you a dirty girl?”
WHAP!
“YES, YES, YES!”
“Are you going to come for your Master?”
WHAP!
“YES, MASTER, YES!”
“Then you better fucking come for your Master RIGHT NOW!”
WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP
“YES YES YEEEESSSSSSSS!”
Her screams were probably heard all over Exardus, they were so loud.
Her wings unfurled involuntarily and stretched all the way out as her body writhed in ecstasy.
I slowed down my strokes until her screams turned into whimpers, and her whimpers turned into sighs.
But despite how good her pussy had felt, I hadn’t come.
Part of it was I really wasn’t that into the ‘come for your Master’ dirty talk. I’d felt faintly ridiculous the entire time.
And the spanking? I loved hearing her come, and watching her ass jiggle and vibrate was great, but the spanking itself did nothing for me.
But there was something else ‘off,’ and I wasn’t exactly sure what it was.
“Ohhhh, Master,” she murmured from where she was bent over on the bed. I could hear the smile in her voice.
“You were a very, very bad girl,” I said, completing the performance.
“Yes,” she giggled, then asked, “Did you come, Master?”
“No.”
She looked around in alarm, craning her neck so she could see me. “Why not? Did I do something to displease you?”
“No. Not at all.”
“But… I want you to come.”
“Alright, we’ll – ”
“I would do anything to make you come,” she interrupted, her voice a throaty murmur.
Um…
“Okay, I’ll – ”
“I would let you do anything you want to me, if it made you come,” she interrupted again. “ANYTHING.”
I stood there for a second, wondering if what I thought was being offered was actually being offered.
Apparently it was, because she silently mouthed, Anal.
Ho boy.
I looked down at her perfect ass. Her tiny pink asshole was right there in front of me between her spread cheeks.
I’d been hearing about this for weeks now, like it was some sort of Holy Grail.
Maybe it was time to finally check it out.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“ANYTHING for you, Master.”
…okay…
I slid out of her pussy and positioned my wet, swollen head against her tight little hole.
There was no way this was going to be pleasant for her unless I did a little prep work.
I put my finger inside her pussy, then pulled it out and began to stroke the outside of her asshole, getting it good and wet.
“Ohhhhh,” she sighed.
Not gonna be enough.
I worked up some saliva, spit it into my hand, then went back to work rubbing her, slowly working the tip of my finger in.
“Ohhhhhh,” she murmured.
I got my finger all the way inside her and wet her down as much as I could.
“OHHHHHHH,” she moaned.
I pulled out my finger, positioned myself – then paused at the threshold of the castle, as Tarka would say, my battering ram ready to go.
Thinking of Tarka, though, made me think of Alaria.
And that just made me sad, so I banished the thought from my mind.
“You sure about this?” I asked.
“Yes, Master,” she cooed. “Anything for you.”
“O-kaaaay…” I said hesitantly.
I started to push into her.
“OH,” she gasped.
“Are you – ”
“Just go slow,” she begged.
So I went slow.
Very slow.
Then slowed that down some more.
Three minutes later I was maybe two inches in.
“This is bad,” Meera moaned.
Oh shit –
“I’m sorry,” I said in a panic.
I started to withdraw, but right before I slipped out, she moaned, “Only bad, BAD girls do this.”
Ohhhhhhhh.
So that’s how she wanted it.
“Yes, you’re bad,” I said, though I was kind of bored at this point. It was definitely a phoned-in performance.
She didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m SO bad,” she moaned. “I’m such a little slut.”
Huh.
I didn’t ever refer to women as sluts, but if that’s what she wanted…
“Such a little slut,” I a
greed half-heartedly.
“I deserve to be spanked.”
And so I started the spanking up again as I eased a little bit farther inside her.
Meera moaned and cooed and screamed and pushed her ass harder against me, urging me deeper until finally, about five minutes later, I was all the way inside her.
And there you have it.
Ta-daaaa.
Anal.
For all the build-up and hype, I wasn’t that impressed.
She was fucking tight, that was for sure. Like a Vulcan death grip on my shaft.
Too bad I wasn’t a fan of ‘tight.’
I much preferred loose and soft…
…or a fit like a glove.
Memories of Alaria invaded my mind, but I pushed the thought of her quickly away.
“Fuck me, Master,” Meera moaned.
So I did… slowly at first… a little bit faster, a little bit harder.
Meera really seemed to enjoy it, especially when I added in more spanking. She definitely came again.
But strangely, I wasn’t that into it. I kind of just went through the motions.
As I pumped away, my mind began to wander.
I noticed my handprints on Meera’s ass, which had transformed her white skin into a deep red.
Red
For a second, I imagined that it wasn’t Meera I was inside, but Alaria.
I immediately felt my cock get harder. For the first time since I’d started anal, it felt pleasurable.
At first I pushed away the fantasy of fucking Alaria, because there was real pain that went with it – but the more I stared at that bright red ass, the more excited I became.
I began imagining that it was Alaria on the bed, moaning in ecstasy, gripping the bedsheets in her balled-up fists.
I imagined that those dove-white wings were black and sleek like a dragon’s.
I imagined that the golden hair spilling across Meera’s back was actually jet black.
And that there was a long, sinuous tail right above my cock, twirling and caressing my body as I thrust inside her.
I imagined it was Alaria’s throaty voice urging me onward.
Yes, fuck me, Ian – oh Goddess, fuck me HARDER!
I closed my eyes and imagined I could smell her cinnamon and vanilla scent. I convinced myself that the screams of orgasm I heard were Alaria’s.
That pushed me over the edge, and suddenly I was coming.
I screamed out loud, my cries matching those of Alaria/Meera – and then I collapsed on her back, panting into her hair.
But I kept my eyes closed so I could still keep imagining.
“Ohhhhh Master,” Alaria murmured, though her voice was too high and sweet. “You fucked me so hard… I’m such a bad – ”
“Shhhh,” I whispered in her ear, stroking her hair. “Just… let’s just be quiet and enjoy this.”
I lay like that, imagining I held the woman I really wanted, and for a few minutes I was happy.
22
The next morning Meera and I made our way back to the dungeon.
I was already hitting the bottle hard to deal with my hangover – not to mention all my guilt about fucking one woman while fantasizing about another.
But, hey. That’s what alcohol’s for.
Meera looked on disapprovingly, but the collar prevented her from bitching about it.
When we got to the dungeon, there stood Blutus and Stig dutifully waiting for us at the main gates.
Stig looked hungover, just like me.
Blutus did not. He was fresh-faced as a Mormon choirboy.
“Hello, master,” he said cheerfully – then made a face like he was frightened he’d messed up. “I mean, um, sir.”
“You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ either,” I said grumpily. “Just call me Ian.”
“Yes, Ian. Thank you very much for the nice stay at the inn, Ian. I very much enjoyed it, Ian. I woke up before dawn and came here right at sunrise, Ian.”
I’d been wrong. Having him call me by my name was annoying as hell.
I glanced down at Stig, then back up at Blutus. “You know what? Don’t call me ‘Ian’ anymore. Call me ‘boss.’”
“Okay, boss,” Blutus agreed.
“But you can only use it once every ten sentences, got it?”
“Okay, buhhh… uh…”
As Blutus stood there looking confused and counting on his fingers, I turned to check out the crowd of players. It was slim pickings today – less than half the number of people who had been here yesterday at the same time.
I wondered why, then realized yesterday might have been Sunday and today might be Monday.
Honestly, I had no idea what day it was, but it was a good theory.
One of the side effects of the long-term immersion pod was that things like days of the week meant fuck-all to you after a while. Especially when you got paid to hang out inside OtherWorld for a week or two at a time.
Whatever the reason, there were half the number of players available. So basically it was going to be ‘Beggars Can’t Be Choosers Day’ as far as my companions went.
Too bad NPCs couldn’t go into dungeons as a complete team. With Stig, Meera, and now Blutus, I almost had enough.
If Alaria were here, that would be five, I thought.
Shit.
I was trying to shut out my memories when a troll in plate armor strolled past. Obviously a Warrior, though only Level 5.
“Love your name,” he sneered.
Without even thinking I shot back, “So did your mom when she was screaming it last night.”
The troll turned around and raised his battle ax threateningly. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
“Blutus?” I said casually. “C’mere.”
My new demon stepped forward, and Mr. Troll Warrior looked alarmed as a horned shadow eclipsed the sun. “Uh…”
“Meera – show me your sword again?” I asked.
FWOOSH.
Out came the fiery lightsaber.
I thought about throwing in something from Stig, but a two-foot-tall, naked, anorexic Yoda wasn’t exactly going to be the coup de grace.
So I left it at my fuzzy bodybuilder and flaming sword chick.
The troll slunk off without another word.
“Say hi to your mom for me,” I called out as he beat his hasty retreat.
I sat around in Blutus’s shade for the next half hour just getting drunk and waiting for somebody to approach. I gotta hand it to the big guy, he made a great beach umbrella.
Finally a crew of Level 10’s rolled up. There was…
A male orc Warrior, obviously the tank of the group.
A male revenant Priest. The dead guy wore black robes and a goofy black bishop hat, which was probably the only accessory that could make such a frightening face look so utterly ridiculous.
There was also a male Shadow Knight. One of the more recent additions to the game, Shadow Knights were a hybrid race/occupation that were basically wandering shades in badass armor. The only things inside his ebony helmet were ink-black shadows and two glowing red eyes.
Finally, there was a goblin Hunter with a bow and a quill of arrows slung on his back.
They were all staring at Meera’s rack as they approached.
Which immediately endeared them to me.
Not.
The dead Priest looked away from Meera’s tits long enough to ask me, “You run this dungeon before?”
No Hi, how ya doin’ – he just stuck it right in.
So I was equally communicative.
“Yeah,” I said, then took a slug from my bottle of rum.
“I already know all about the Tomb of Tharos from the forums,” the orc informed the group pompously.
Great. A Level 10 Keyboard Jockey. Just the thing to start off the morning.
“Right, the forums,” the goblin Hunter said, obviously no more impressed than I was.
The dead Priest looked at my crew. “These guys a package dea
l? They all come with you?”
“Yup.”
“Alright, then, let’s go.”
Part of me wanted to tell him to suck it – but why? Because he was rude/socially inept?
I was no Miss Manners. I didn’t give a shit as long as I got my money.
And it was ‘Beggars Can’t Be Choosers Day.’
“Fine,” I said as I stood up, “on one condition. I’m only in this for the loot, so – ”
They were already walking away, totally ignoring me.
ASS holes.
I wasn’t about to run after them yelling Listen to me, guys, listen to me! so I just shook my head and muttered under my breath.
Me and my demonic (and angelic) peeps followed them over to the gates, where the spectral skeleton peered down at us from atop the wall.
“Welcome to the Tomb of Tharos. To enter this domain of death, you must be numbered five. Have you five members in your group?”
“Yes, dumbass, can’t you fuckin’ count?” the dead Priest sneered.
His three asshole friends yukked it up along with him.
I, on the other hand, was beginning to regret participating in ‘Beggars Can’t Be Choosers Day.’
“Then good luck. You will need it, mortals,” the skeleton said, and the wooden doors creaked open.
We walked through, and the doors BOOMED shut behind us.
Everything was the same. Graveyard to the left, sandstone walls with hieroglyphics, three choices of which way to go.
I figured now was the time to offer the benefit of my elder statesman-like knowledge. “Okay, so if you want to go through the dungeon the fastest, we should go – ”
“Right,” the orc declared, then set off at a run.
“What?!” I yelled after him. “NO, LEFT!”
“No, it’s right!” the orc shouted. “I read about it in the forums!”
The others followed his lead without even a second’s hesitation.
I stared after them in disbelief.
“What is a ‘forum’?” Meera asked.
“In this particular case, a guidebook for idiots.”
“Those guys are real assholes, boss,” Stig said.
“You got that right,” I agreed, then shook it off. “Whatever. More loot for us. Let’s go.”
The four of us ran after the four of them and quickly found them locked in battle with the first group of sand trolls. My team and I quickly joined in.
As I’ve mentioned before, the dungeon adjusts its difficulty according to the average level of the players who enter it. Since I was the highest person in my group at Level 15, and my companions were all Level 10’s, that meant the vast majority of our enemies were keyed to a Level 11 player.
