Handbook of Erotic Fantasy: Bad Luck With Women (Patreon)

Fighter said these words: “I love….”

Ranger wanted so badly to hear the rest.

“I love….”

Ranger strained, willing the words to fall from her lover’s tongue. She wanted it more than anything in the whole wide Handbook-World. It’s alright, her hooded eyes seemed to say. I can feel it too. What do you fear so badly?

Fighter’s back arched. Her bare breasts pointed true north to the sky, and on to the celestial planes beyond.

“I love roleplaying!” she cried.

And it is the wrongest, most out-of-character, and therefore the kinkiest thing she has ever said or thought or felt. “I love being your princess! Oh, Syr Knight! What if we are discovered? What if my father the King should find us thus? I should be forever dishonored! And all the fabulous riches in the kingdom’s deepest vaults can ne’er return a maiden’s virtue.”

Fighter closed her eyes. She leaned her head back into the soft grass, and loved the feel of Ranger treating her the way a delicate flower of the House Royal longs to be treated, dreaming of wedding nights and white dresses. Coronations... bouquets… a kiss upon a balcony, and then the thunderous roar of the people’s love as the heiress to the throne clasps the chaste hand of her one, true, and most beloved knight.

Fighter sighed. Her hips found their rhythm, faster and faster, coming closer to something enormous. Something profound. A change was welling within the once-murder hobo… And then she frowned, plump cupid’s bow lips turning down into embarrassment and uncertainty.

“Is the accent too much?” she said. “I’ve never really tried an English accent before. I keep trying for ‘posh’ but I always wind up at ‘cockney.’ A princess type character shouldn’t sound like Michael Cane, you know?”

But Ranger smiled. Her tusks glinted in the gentle light of the forest glade. Half a dozen costumes lay nearby. Fighter had tried all of them, but the princess was the one she liked best.

The half-orc raised her gauntlet in a spirited thumbs up, and Fighter felt relief pour through her tremulous maiden’s heart.

“Oh, good,” said the human female. “I usually don’t get so into this stuff. It’s just that when I’m with you I—” And then there were talons about her arms. Her knight in shining armor was spiraling away, turgid sword pointing still to the pilfered prize that she’d just become.

“The fuck, dude!” shouted an indignant Fighter, princesses and try-hard RP forgotten. “We were tryna do a thing!”

“Pffft,” said the dragon. “Looked lame. You gonna play dress-up or are you here to kill monsters and get loot?”

Fighter had a long flight to think about it. But the trouble was that she really, really didn’t know anymore.