Game Changer, Round 2: Lady Dragon (Patreon)

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An Anonymous Commission

Note: this will go up on Deviantart in coming days, but as it is in several parts, Patreon subscribers get early access!

James, Mike, and Claire are good friends about to try an supposedly 'mysterious' videogame from the 90s, one that disappears all who play it. To their surprise, the rumours are true, and they find themselves catapulted into the world of Game Changer, a setting ruled by exploitative stereotypes and gratuitious jiggle physics.

Round 2: Lady Dragon

“By the Goddess, a temple of divine worship!” Shankari declared, making a small bow, her hands clasped. “Damn, this body really likes worshipping.”

We were indeed at the site of their new battleground; the Temple of the Stars, and we each had our new costumes ready, much to the collective embarrassment of my friends, and my own slight arousal.

Shankari and Fumi were dressed most appropriately as they ascended the steps. The firm was dressed in a bright orange monk-outfit that clung to her curves, revealing, as ever, her smooth brown midriff. Functionally, it was little more than a thick cloth wrap around her shoulders, breasts, and pelvis, leaving the rest to the open night sky. Her hair was just as long, but weaved in a complicated braid that ran the length of her back, and her arms and legs were tattooed with blue ink that was already glowing bright blue as she prepared her summoning powers.

Fumi matched her, dressed in a gorgeous red-and-white shrine maiden outfit that made her look even more adorable than ever. She blushed almost as red herself as she ascended the steps, the deep V of her costume causing her incredible bosom to bounce egregiously, permanently threatening to spill from her top but never quite managing. Her hair was longer now, tied in various traditional loops with coloured ribbons. She looked even smaller than usual thanks to the long sleeves and skirt that outpaced her limbs.

But where Fumi and Shankari walked with hesitance, I as Aaliyah walked with confidence, my impressive hips sashaying from side to side as I led the trio up the long stone steps. My costume had been titled Date Night, and appropriately for that title I was dressed in a tight black cocktail dress that hugged my curvy body and emphasised my best features, particularly my frankly fantastic backside. My hair had been straightened, sitting upon her shoulders, and I wore red lipstick and eyelash extensions. I was a vision, and as we ascended together to the main temple stadium, I couldn’t help but relish that there was a crowd waiting: on either side of the temple chamber, hundreds of spectators whooped and cheered.

“Go girls!”

“Wooh! Aaliyah! Work it girl!”

“Dance for us Shankari! Show us those belly muscles!”

“Fumi! Fumi! Marry us Fumi!”

We each posed before the crowd, looked utterly gorgeous, and while my friends did so simply as part of their videogame pose animations, I actually got into mine, and made it my own. I tried something daring, and bent down, letting my ass stretch the fabric of my cocktail dress. I placed my hands on my thighs and, rising to my full height, moving my hands up my hips, to my waist, over the slopes of my breasts, and finally to my hair, before punching the air powerfully with my muscled arms.

The Crowd. Went. Wild.

“AGAIN!”

“Ugh,” Shankari said, “you’re really getting into this. I guess I can’t let you show me up. Performing is, like, my one thing. Time to open my chakras!”

The last was clearly a catchphrase, but she smiled sensually as she said it, before launching into an elaborate dance, her serpentine movements emphasising her wonderful hips and taut belly. She raised her hands over her head in traditional poses, her legs and feet moving deftly and elegantly, and I could tell that despite her feminist beliefs she was actually enjoying performing for this crowd.

And then, she briefly stumbled as she eyed someone in the crowd. There was a brief ‘ooooh!’ of interest for the crowd, and suddenly my friend’s eyes were only fixed on one seat in the crowd, as she stepped up her dancing even further, her belly undulating as she danced, a saucy smile upon her face.

“Shankari - I mean Claire!” Fumi spat, boobs wobbling just from her over-animated irritation, “what are you doing? Who is that?”

“I - I don’t know,” she said out the side of her mouth, before grabbing a spare cloth and weaving it through the air with her movements, dancing with perfection as the crowd cheered. “But . . . he’s really hot. I can’t explain it.”

I found who she was looking at, and my jaw dropped. In a seat near the front of the rows, a powerful figure of a man stood. His skin was light olive, he had a powerful jawline, and a neat goatee. His dark hair was slicked back, and he was adorned in a well-fitting suit that nevertheless revealed a strong musculature beneath it. His eyes were magnetised to Shankari, in awe.

“Fuck,” I said, “that’s Arjun Khan! That’s the guy we fight last.”

“Oh no! He’s hot!” Shankari said, barely stopping her sensual movements.

“Shankari, stop flirting with the enemy!” Fumi said, shaking her fists. She turned to hiss at the group of young men cheering her name, one of whom fainted as her breasts bounced against one another in her open Shrine Maiden top. She spent a moment re-adjusting herself, and for just the briefest moment it looked like she was biting back a small smirk of satisfaction. But only for a moment. Shankari finished dancing, and her brown body was covered in a slick sheen of sweat that only added to her sex appeal, as if she had arisen from a post-coital dream.

“By the spirits that guide us, that was actually very fun.” She coughed into her hand, just like the old Claire. “And by that, I mean, just this once. I’m mainly here to get out of here and back to our bodies.”

I grinned, already eyeing a handsome white man in the front row who was showing me his muscled biceps. I raised my even more impressive ones and flexed, and he blew a kiss in response. I blew one back and winked.

“Sure you are, Shankari,” I said. “You can admit you like this.”

“Says the one who’s gained all the confidence. Who knew it took turning into an Amazonian black woman in a videogame to make James the go-getter.”

I looked down to her. She was right. It had only been a few days since our last fight, training and preparing for this one, but I couldn’t lie to myself: I was enjoying this world much more than my own. And I had a deep suspicion my friends were fighting their own pleasures as much as possible. Fumi in particular seemed to enjoy having her tits played with a little too much for Mike’s ego to survive much longer.

“Let’s just do this,” the short Japanese woman muttered, trying to roll up her overly-long sleeves, the ones that would never fully roll up.

Even as she said it, a silence fell upon the crowd, and an enormous screech from the heavens sounded. A great gush of flame descended in a pillar upon the stage, nearly blinding us. What followed was a great black dragon, disguised within the night sky itself, landing upon the raised dais one hundred feet ahead. Its eyes were gold, and it snorted green flame. The crowd gave an ‘oooh’ as the dragon shrunk in size, its features shifting and compacting, scales retracting until a white-skinned woman with green hair, roughly forty years or so in age and wearing a dark dress, stood in its place.

“MINE NAME BE LADY DRAGON!” she declared, and a thunderous roar was taken up by the crowd, all except by the few who still supported us girls. “AND I SHALL TEST THINE STRENGTH, WOMEN WARRIORS OF THE REALM!”

I uncovered my ears. “Damn, why are all the enemies in this world such big hams?”

Shankari shrugged, already summoning a giant snake. Fumi floated to the air, readying her ‘globes’, which she pulled from the actual globes of her chest.

“Okay, I said. We follow the plan. I take the lead, and listen to my calls. If Claire’s plan is right, we can do this.”

“Who made you leader?” Fumi said.

“Someone had to be,” I said, and she crossed her arms over her bosom in an irritated response. But it was too late for arguments, as the invisible Announcer was already speaking:

“THREE-PLAYER MATCH

FUMI SATO, SHANKARI DEVA, AALIYAH VS LADY DRAGON

ROUND 2 - FIGHT!”

We launched into battle, and the crowd roared with approval.

◊◊◊

It was an absolute curbstomp. We didn’t even need our combo move.

Well, a butt stomp, given I got to employ my signature move. It was a little embarrassing actually, particularly since Shankari had figured out from watching other matches that Lady Dragon’s second phase starting animation was interruptible, allowing us to throw attacks at her as she dramatically became a dragon once more. By the time she was ready to counterattack her health bar was already half way down again, and Shankari immediately used the sensual hip movements of her Hypnotic Sway to disrupt the dragon’s fiery roar while Fumi blasted it from on high. I managed to knocked the beast from the air with a sweeping uppercut, which had that beautifully muscled man whooping as my thick thighs clenched around Lady Dragon’s draconic throat and bore her to the ground, right where Fumi was waiting. I swear, the Japanese cutie once called Mike was actually having fun using her Breast Boxing to impossible yet literally punch the dragon to death. Just like with Igor, she disappeared in an explosion of white particles, probably to appear later in the tavern with a strong tonic in hand and a bruised ego.

We had become the crowd favourites, and they cheered our names, though some cheered for some of us in particular more. I had my own segment; various cute, muscled men and women. Fumi had a parade of slim suitors in glasses and work shirts slavishly devoting themselves to her, tripping over their own words to compliment her as she tried to push them away, much to Shankari’s amusement.

That amusement ended, however, when Arjun Khan approached. The crowd parted to let him through, and he stood tall, taller than even I, looming over a captivated Shankari. He bowed deeply, took her hand, and kissed it lightly. My friend, who had sworn up and down that she was a single woman until she’d earned her way to independent success, blushed a deep shade of red.

“Miss Shankari Deva, greatest dancer of my homeland, most beautiful woman in all of creation, and keener than the greatest minds of men, it is an honour to finally meet you.”

Oh. Damn. I was already sensing that our new bodies were a lot more open, sexually, but this dude was making me moist, and I wasn’t even the target of his affections! Shankari was stunned and spellbound, retracting her hand quickly, perhaps too quickly.

“Mister Khan, you do us all a great honour. We . . . are to fight you next.”

He cracked a knuckle. “Yes, we are, and it is a crime to fight such beauty. But our fight will be legendary, like two myths come to life to conquer the heavens. And I shall win.”

I pushed forward. “Is that so? Because we were kicking plenty of ass, there. And I should know, because mine ass gave plenty of ‘kicks’.”

Khan smirked, eyes wandering to Fumi. She was busy giving her signature to their various forms, and was furiously trying to hide from our view as one particular individual who looked rail thin and nerdy himself gained her attention.

“Hmm, yes, you did beat Lady Dragon in record time,” Khan continued, his voice like honey. Or molasses. Or sex. “But I am the undisputed champion of the fight. My power level is beyond you three put together, and I intend to win.”

I clenched my knuckles. We were surrounded by a crowd of admirers of us girls and Khan both. “Well, there’s only one way to settle this, Khan. And I can promise you, it will end with you on the ground, looking up at us.”

Khan sighed, and appeared to consider my words. I felt good. The blood rush from the fight had not yet ended, and I was feeling stronger than ever.

“Your fire is almost a match for Shankari’s,” he said, “though hers possesses an elegance you cannot hope to match. Still, you are a champion of great prowess, beauty, and, I suspect, fertility. And Fumi, though I can see she has her own queue of suitors, holds a captivating draw, a protective yet sensual quality that stirs desire in me. I shall make the stakes of our match interesting. We shall fight in one week, and the winner shall not only be a declared champion or championess, but gain something more.”

Shankari’s eyebrows raised. As did my own. Even Fumi managed to pull away from her suitor to draw close. “Ehhh? Nani? What’s happening now?”

Shankari didn’t reply. In fact, her hand had somehow slipped back into hers. Perhaps I should have told her she was a canon love interest to him. Fuck. Wait, did that mean I had a canon love interest? And what about Fumi?

“Khan is challenging us to a bet of some kind,” I said, after a pause.

“I am indeed,” he continued. “I recognise outsiders from this land. I think you know what I mean.”

All of us were silent. Did he somehow know? His smirk said yes.

“That’s right, you are not the first to arrive here. Just ask Ciara, your favoured barmaid. Occasionally you come to us, and a rare few return. So I offer a challenge: win, and I will return you to your world, though it pains me to bid Shankari goodbye.”

She chuckled awkwardly, her hips wiggling a little.

“And if we lose?” I said.

Khan grinned. It was gentlemanly, but calculated. “If you lose, you each become concubines of my harem. Beautiful additions to my women. You will be taken care of, live in luxury, and I shall worship each of you, but you will, in essence, belong to me. And Shankari,” he turned to her, kissing her hand once more, “you will be my favoured concubine, above all others.”

That was enough for her to finally pull away.

“By the Goddess, you almost had me.”

“Ah, would that I could.”

“Nandayo! The stakes are too high,” Fumi cut in, shaking her fists like an anime character, causing her bosom to wobble unrealistically. Somewhere, one of her bespectacled suitors collapsed, nose bleeding from the sight. I looked Khan in his confident eyes, dark and handsome, and so sure of himself. And I looked over to the light-skinned man, who simply nodded, assured that I could win. Gosh, this body found him attractive. I thrust out my hand.

“You’re on.”

“What? Aaliyah - but -”

“It’s the only way we can win Shankari. Fumi, don’t tell me you aren’t still Mike at heart, even with those huge knockers. You still like a challenge?”

Fumi grinned. It was perhaps the most honestly gleeful I’d seen her, except when she was boob punching. “Hai! We’ll kick his ass. He can’t handle the KAWAII!”

The last was a catchphrase, but she’d kept the spirit of the declaration intact. Khan took my hand, shook it. He bowed deeply one last time to Shankari, producing a fine red rose.

“I look forward to seeing your beauty on the battlefield,” he said. And made his way off.

◊◊◊

“Damn, maybe this was a mistake,” I said, “we still can’t even figure out our ultimate combo move!”

I was feeling more James than Aaliyah back at the tavern, and it didn’t help that Khan had seemed so confident. The bruised Lady Dragon was already toasting to our fated loss. I remained in my black dress, but Shankari was back in her sari - now a red variant - and Fumi had returned to her earlier dress also, though she was complaining that the top buttons were permanently undone, revealing her chasm of upper cleavage. We were each drinking, and Ciara had joined us.

“I’m sorry lasses,” she offered up, smiling gently, “I can promise yer it’s not a bad life here, if you do end up getting the shite kicked out of yer.”

"You didn't tell us that you were once from 'outside' Ciara."

The barmaid shrugged. "It was a lifetime ago. 'Sides, I wasn't sure yer were from 'outside' yerselves."

"Who were you before?" Shankari asked.

"A man, would you believe?"

Fumi leaned forward, heavy breasts resting on the table. I could tell she was astonished that someone could get used to life in a female body, given her own troubles.

"Aye, a man," she continued, "and not a joyful one either. My name was Robb, and I was a programmer, thirty-three years old, and lonely. Not in the best of shape; bit too much pudge around my belly. I found Game Changer on a lark. It had only been out a few years but no one could find a copy."

My eyes widened. Fumi and Shankari didn't catch it, but they weren't videogame nerds like me. "Wait," I said, "what year was this?"

Ciara grimned and downed a shot. Her freckled cheeks went briefly rosy in response, a little from the alcohol, a lot from sheepishness. "1995."

My jaw just about dropped. "That means . . . you've been in the game more than twenty years!"

The others looked shocked as well.

"Aye, it's been sometime. A lifetime to be Ciara, really. Plenty of time to love who I am, and this place."

Fumi spluttered. "But - but you're so utsukushii! Ugh, stupid kawaii language slips. I mean, so beautiful! So young!"

Ciara laughed, and wiggled her shoulders. She was no Fumi, but the noticeable shift in her cleavage was more than enticing. She tousled her red hair dramatically for show, before placing her hands on hips broadened from three pregnancies.

“Fumi, what a flatterer you are! It’s part of the nature of this place, I think. Time runs a little differently. We’re not immortal, but . . . well, how to describe it . . .”

It clicked for me. “You age like videogame characters,” I said.

She clicked her fingers. “Exactly, lass! And like videogame characters - at least from my era - even when we get older, the horny developers like us to stay young and beautiful looking, especially us girls.”

“Explains these enormous things,” Fumi muttered.

“Yep! And also why yer all such stereotypes,” Ciara continued, “me included, ‘course. I didn’t know a scant of Gaelic ‘fore I ended up here. And even after getting married, and putting up with my sweet husband making me pop out three wee ones in a row, and being here for donkeys years, I’m still a sweet thing to look at, if I can say myself.”

She tousled her hair and gave a flirty wink. It was a damn hot look.

“Far as I can tell,” she continued, “there’s a number of sequels we’re all ‘due’ for in this place. It’s not actually a video game yer trapped in. Think of the game as a portal to this world. It’s another dimension where video game rules apply. But it’s a real place, alright.”

We took the information in. It was a lot to process. To learn that we were in another dimension, and only Khan would be able to get us back. It made the stakes of our fight even higher. But even Ciara left, her svelte bar maid’s uniform clinging to her form, I couldn’t help but wonder at her life. Once an ordinary nerd like me, without much in his life, transformed into a hot Irish redhead with a fiery spirit and amazing body. And now she’s not only accepted living here, but actively embraced it, married to the bar owner and happily having got knocked up with three children. I touched my own stomach, imagining what it would be like to grow children of my own, knowing now that my body was capable of it. I have lived the last few days feeling better than I ever had before. From a weak, introverted, pasty nerd to a loud and proud black woman, who felt confident in her body.

“Hey, you guys,” I said, venturing to voice the question that was in my mind. “If we fail against Arjun Khan-”

“We won’t,” Fumi said.

“But if we do. Or hypothetically, if we do . . . do you think we could end up like Ciara? You know, end up okay with it? She seems happy. Happier even than she was in our world.”

Fumi leapt to her feet so fast that her own breasts bounced up to clock her in the chin. She jabbed out a finger in my direction.

“Baka! Do you think I’m going to be stuck as some tsundere big-titted girl for the rest of my life! No way!”

She turned, and left. I looked to Shankari, who was meditatively looking at her drink.

“What about you Shankari? Could you give up being Claire?”

Shankari sighed. “The question you’re asking me, is could you give up being James, Aaliyah.” Her dark eyes looked at me. Looked through me. “And I’m worried I know the answer. By the powers of the heavens, I think I know the answer for us both. Gods above, I’m meant to be the strong independent woman, but I can’t get that damn Khan out of my mind, or how good it felt to perform before that crowd.”

She stood also, her body moving slowly and sensually. She stepped forward, stood on her toes, and kissed me on the cheek. It was enough for my nipples to harden.

“I’m scared to say it, though, Aaliyah. So I’m going to grab another drink, and head out into town. I’ll see you back at the hotel. After that, we train. We have to win. I don’t want . . . I don’t want you to end up as a concubine for Arjun.”

She too left, and it was just me, seated tall in my figure-hugging black dress. I took a deep breath, appreciating the swell of my breasts as I did so. I was about to order another drink from Ciara, when a shadow approached from behind me. I smiled; it was the white-skinned man with the mop of brown hair from the fight with Lady Dragon. Up close, I could see his strong muscles, particularly his shoulders. Damn, I had a thing for shoulders now. And bare forearms. And confident men who could appreciate a woman stronger than him.

“So, that was some fight,” he said. He extended a hand. “I’m Dylan Lightning.”

I nearly burst out laughing, but managed just a deep chuckle. “Of course you are.” I shook his hand, my own grip even more powerful than his. “I’m Aaliyah.”

“I know. Everyone knows. You girls were a sight to see, but you above all.” He gestured his head to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

My eyes drink in his form, from top to bottom. I was so bisexual now. Was I really thinking about doing this? But my nipples were even stiffer, and that moistness between my legs was only growing, and needed filling.

“You certainly can Dylan,” I spoke in my honeyed, accented voice, “and then maybe you can offer me another one at your place.”

He grinned.

I spend the night fucking his brains out. It was not the way I expected to lose my virginity. But having his cock inside me as I rode my beautiful black body on his was better than I ever could have imagined it. I just about shocked Lightning comatose by the time we were finally through. I fell asleep on my back, him curled against me like a submissive woman, one hand still gripping the round flesh of my incredible ass.

To Be Continued . . .

Nex Part