Sneak Preview: My LitRPG (Patreon)

Over the summer, I started world-building on an LitRPG, a form of fantasy that trys to mimic being inside a roleplaying game. I've been writing the first book in my free time. It's been a lot of fun. 

I thought I'd share the first two chapters of it with you. 

Chapter One: Loot Boxes

Shattered...

Once the world was whole. A land of Order. Every corner of the world fell beneath the auspices of the Inferius Empire. United, the tyranny flowed across the land. Nothing could check the power of the Pharon-Emperor. The God of Light and Order wept at the suffering caused. How could their dream of a world without Chaos. Without Monster prowling in the dark corners or dark fiends clawing through cracks in reality in dark rituals carried out in deep grottoes.

How could peace lead to suffering?

The left it in the hands of their Great Hierophant. The August and Revered Servant of the Gods of Light and Order to make the decision. He called upon the Angels to do the only thing possible to save the world.

Destroy it.

Thus was the world broken.

Thus were bonds sundered.

Thus were Passions Shattered.

*  \ * /  *

The female narrator finished the over-the-top backstory of the game, Shattered Passions. It promised to be an MMORPG unlike any other. One for adults. A game blending deep, party mechanics and kinky sexual scenarios using the most realistic of VR graphics. 

A game that promised to unleash all your fantasy. “Form your own harem party of busty fighters, submissive acolytes, and slutty rogues to restore the world of Inferius from its shattered pieces to its restored passion.”

The promo text was enticing. Escapism at its best. And I needed escapism. Nothing had gone right in years. Everything I had was about to be taken from me. My money. My home. My family. Why not delve into something to flee it.

Why not piss of my ex-wife by wasting as much of my money as possible. I know, spiteful. I worked my ass off for years. I sacrificed to give her everything, and it wasn't enough. While I was working in the office, she was working on her back. Three kids I thought were mine, weren't. Now she needed to “maintain the lifestyle she'd become accustomed to.”

I played the game and lost. Why not a new one. So I went out and found the video game with the single biggest “microtransaction.” Of course it would be this kinky game. The $50,000 “Ultimate Harem Fantasy” pack promised to deliver an experience as real as life. A VR experience that would grant me untold pleasures.

It sounded like BS, but why not.

So here I was, ready to make my character. Only four classes, basic stuff for an erotic game. Fighter, Acolyte, Mage, and Rogue. Your four standard classes. Tank, Healer, Range DPS, and Melee DPS. Each one promised customization, different paths, and “deep” game play while simultaneously promising the hottest, erotic adventure ever committed to bits and bytes. 

I made a male, of course. I needed a name. My own wasn't impressive. Why did I want to be him, when I could be something better. I sat there for the longest time on that. This was going to be the new me. I had my VR goggles on, the controllers in my hand. I sat in my new gaming chair, the most expensive I could order, plugged into the best gaming rig I found.

Just a name. It seemed simple, but it was so hard to choose the right one. Possibilities flitted through my mind. I didn't want to do any joke name. Something that would fit in with the game. Something fantasy sounding, but powerful. Dominating.

A name, ultimately, close to my own. An upgrade.

Marcus Aurelius

A good name. I went with fighter. I liked that class. When I played those classic MMO's from my youth, I liked to sword and board. I went with human. I know, boring, but they promised a balanced build. The character creation was in-depth. They had the usual stuff of hair, eyes, and skin color, but had height, build, and even cock size. I guess that made sense. I could be hairy, have little body hair, even have waxed balls. Piercings on every conceivable body part, several hundred hair styles. 

At the end, my muscular champion, young, blue eyed, and with a mane of flowing, black hair was ready to out adventuring. I chose an ax for his starting weapon, a shield strapped to my arm. I had to pick some traits, a list came up. Things to affect my stats or my ability to have girls in my harem. To seduce them.

I mean, wasn't that the point. Dominating, of course. I wanted to have that harem of submissive beauties worshiping me. Charismatic to seduce those maidens and part those thighs. And Prowess so my character could go all night long with slender elves, busty dragonborn, and virginal angelborn. Maybe I'd enjoy a strong orc woman or the curvaceous delights of a dwarf maid. Who knew what I would find.

Character made. I logged in.

*  \ * /  *

A nervous twist ran through me. I had finally gone through all the character creation. I had my name. I was eager to get into it. Kill some mobs, seduce some women, and see if this game could possibly live up to the hype around it.

And to the $50,000 microtransaction. They should just give me the keys to the kingdom.

I appeared in a loud clearing. It was about the size of a football stadium. There was a blue sky above while a while of hexagonal, purple wall rose around it. The sun slowly moved across, far faster than it should. Clearly, this game had a day/night cycle. I gazed at the surrounding. The grass was green, dotted here and there with yellow or red flowers. There was a single, white tent by me and campfire burning away merrily. There were dirt spots cleared out, like the foundations of buildings that could be set up.

This must be the “customizable” community I'd read about.

“Marcus!” cheered a squeaking, eager, and cheerful voice.

The sound of my name was surprising. I new Voice to Text technology had come along way, but to hear the name pronounced so perfectly and in such a non-computerized voice was surprising. In a flash of pink, a small, naked fairy appeared before me. She stood as tall as my hand, a long fall of pink hair spilling down her body. It did nothing to hid her small breasts or the tight and virginal slit of her pussy. She was at once innocent and enticing. She looked real, her skin sparkling. Diaphanous wings, like a dragonfly, fluttered behind her.

“I'm so glad you're here!” the cheerful pixie said. She zoomed around my head, leaving a trail of pink dust in her wake. Her wings fluttered, sparkling in the wake of her passage. She returned to before me and clapped her hands before her. “You're just what the world needs. Shardhunters are going to restore Inferius whole again.”

“Right, right, Shardhunters,” I said to myself, not noticing any prompts to ask her questions.

“Don't sound so skeptical,” she said. “You can do it. I know it's intimidating, but you have me. I'm Iris. I'm your pixie! If you need help, just let me know. If you poke me, all manner of naughty things will spill from me.”

I reached out with my right hand and poked her tummy with a finger. She giggled a menu popped up. It had categories like LORE and MAP as well as my PROFILE. I clicked lore, but only the PROLOGUE appeared.

“Huh,” I said. “Okay. That all you do.”

“Well, I also look sexy,” she said and did a cute pose in air, almost looking like she was standing on nothing while her wings buzzed.

“Damn, what sort of natural language processing AI do they have running on you.”

“I'm not an AI, I'm a Pixie, Marcus!” She stuck out her tongue at me. “Would an AI be that cute and adorable.”

They had this in a sex game? This was going way  beyond what they needed.

“Well, this is your camp,” she said. “You can recruit a bevy of sexy girls, a horde of hot guys, or a mix of the two if that's your fancy.”

“I'm straight,” I said.

“So just a bevy of sexy girls.” She giggled. “You can currently have an harem of 6. You get to add one every three levels. Not just hot warriors, but naughty maids, kinky craftsmen, a whole community of women eager to please and love you.”

“Damn,” I muttered. This looked impressive. The graphics were real. I wonder how hot the sex would be?  I couldn't wait. “So, what do I do? I don't have any of that. Don't seem any, uh, women.”

“Well, you have your first Shard.” She pointed to a small pool of blue that shimmered, little motes popping off. “That's a Shard Pool. With your Shards, you can travel to new parts of this broken world. That's your job. Find new paths, the missing cities, lost dungeons, and more. You have to unravel the key to restoring this world. And to fine those cuties.” She giggled and darted to me. She leaned in to plant a kiss on the tip of my nose.

Shame I couldn't feel it.

I nodded and then poked at her and opened up the menu. I found a Key Item list and there was a single shard, the Corrupted Fertile Shard. I headed to the pool. This game seemed to hold promise. I hadn't gotten lost in an MMO since I was a much younger man. Back when you played with a mouse and keyboard and used TeamSpeak or Ventrilo (shortened to Vent) to handle raids. 

I could almost feel the water water around my feet. There was no sign of these bonus items I paid for. Did I just piss $50,000 down the drain? I snorted, $50,000 she wouldn't get. I was ready to do this. I activated the UI that appeared and activated the Shardpool.

The screen blazed white. Then shimmers of blue danced across the screen. The world faded around me. Trees rose around me. Gnarled oaks and tall elms. They waved in a slight breeze rippling through them. A soothing background music played in the background. Soft flutes and a gentle guitar. I peered around. It looked amazing. 

“So, I just head down the path?” I asked, clearly in the tutorial area. The brush around me looked to thick to walk out into.

“But beware of monsters,” she said. She leaned in. “I hear there are dangerous beasts around here. But you're a brave Shardhunter. I'm sure you'll be fine.” She gave me a sly grin. “Once you gain a few levels.”

I snorted. She was fun, at least. I had 44 HP and 11 TP. I had two abilities to have Yell and Hard Strike. I had an ax in my hand made of copper. Basic, nothing fancy. A had a wooden shield in the other. A coat of copper chainmail, leather pants, and heavy boots. Pretty basic stuff. 

“Come on, down the trial,” Iris said and zipped down it.

I had a pair of healing items on my hot barred. Diluted Potion of Angel Passion. Basic healing item. 

As I walked down the trial, I spotted ruins peeking through the brush. The forest didn't look old around those, the trees young. Maybe twenty or thirty years. Something had happened here. This seemed to be that Shattering that happened. I wasn't a big lore geek. I liked to just play, and if the AI was as good on the other girls as on Iris... This would be fun.

I rounded a curve in the path and it opened up into a clearing where a tan-hided boar with bristles of black fur thrust from its back. A name appeared above it. Green letter announcing it a Black Bristle Boar Level 1. Starter monster.

I grinned and charged in. Unlike those old MMO's, I had to swing my arms. Put some skill into it. Not just using game stats. The boar charged. I lowered my shield, exhilaration beating through me. It crashed into my shielded. Wood groaned. The impact pushed me back. Squeals and angry snarls echoed. The tusks scraped along the shield.

I swung past it, the copper ax flaring in the sunlight. It crashed into the pig's hide. Numbers flew. It's hit point bar dwindled in half. I grinned and swung again. He backed up and its back twitched. A bristle shot into my face. I flinched back, heart bursting with a moment of fear.

Then I laughed. It was a game. None of this was real. I took damage, but it was just a stat. I battered my shield into the boar and swung again and again. I whittled down its life and killed my first monster in Shattered Passion.

Even if their wasn't the promise of sexy girls, I'd be having a blast. I charged down the path, Iris darting in to zip around me. She cheered me on, her naked body looking cute and nubile. A far, far better companion than another fairy in a different game.

The path grew tight again. Orange flowers on vines dangled from tree limbs thrust over my head. I brushed through them, sending them waving. Brush rustled, the soothing background music pulsing through the headset. 

The path opened up onto another little meadow. Two of the boars were here. One rolled around on its back, dirt puffing around it. The other lifted its head, eating the green grass, and stared at me. Then it let out an angry roar.

“Might be good to yell yourself,” Iris said. “It's a useful ability. It gives a boost. Helps you kick some butt and win some of those cuties! Get to it!”

It was on my hotbar along with an offensive ability called Hard Strike. I activated it and my character let out a mighty roar, the grass before me rippling from the exhilaration. A cooldown counter of two minutes began counting down on the icon while I had a twenty second buff. Damage?

No time to find out, the first boar was on me. 

I set my shield. I could almost feel the shivering impact. The scrap of tusks on wood ground together. Boots scraped on the grass. I swung my ax and slammed into its hide. Damage numbers burst in red. More than the last one. 

Bristles shot from the other one, spiking into me for some minor damage. I pushed back with my shield and slammed down with my ax. A bloody rent ripped through the boar. It squealed and collapsed into its depth animation.

“Go, Marcus, go!” cheered Iris from my right.

“Now for you, little piggy!” I said, getting caught up in this. It was easy to forget that Iris wasn't a real person. Her AI was impressive. So was this game. Who invested so much money in what amounted to a porn game?

I readied Hard Strike, the counter on my Yell buff slowly ticking down. I didn't have to swing my arm this time. The animation took over. My character snarled, powerful and guttural, and slammed the ax down in a burst of red streaks. It crashed into the boar. Numbers exploded.

The boar squealed and dropped dead.

“Yay, yay, yay!” gasped Iris. She paused before me, doing a dance that almost was a hula girl hips sway combined with some cheerleader arm pumps, her little titties jiggling. “Now let's go!”

“Yeah,” I said, glancing at my HP. I still had a good amount, not even a quarter gone. I didn't notice any HP regeneration going down. Or TP. “So healing items the only way to regain hit points and my TP.”

“Your technical points,” she said. “Physical attacks use those. You can also camp in appropriate spots and level ups restores all expended resources.”

“So there's an attrition system,” I said. “What happens at KO.”

“Why, death,” she said. “You don't want to die.”

I blinked at that. “Hardcore mode? I didn't know that was in game.”

She giggled. “You say funny things, Marcus.”

“I guess so. Well, let's keep going down this path. Wherever it leads.”

“To a temple, I think.”

“The tutorial area,” I countered.

She giggled. “So funny!”

The path continued on, but not for much longer. It opened onto an overgrown courtyard. The paving stones buckled in places, thrust up by the roots of trees growing on the edges, or the new saplings thrusting up in the middle. Tufts of grass found purchase in the cracks. At the far end lay an overgrown structure, draped in vines, the roof looking half-collapsed. The same statue flanked the entrance, tough only half of the busty figure remained on the left one. She had ample tits, whoever she was, arms spread wide in fertile invitation.

“Yep, ruined temple,” said Iris.

“Is that a Shardhunter?” a man groaned. From behind the busty statue an older man appeared, his beard streaked with iron strands, his face wrinkled. He rubbed gnarled hands together, a beseeching look on his face. “You must be a Shardhunter. Good sir, please, I need your help.”

All he was missing was a golden question mark to identify him as a quest giver. 

I trotted to him, looking for any threats. He took a few steps towards me, rubbing hands on the leather pants he wore. Then he reached out to claps my character's hand. He clutched to it, a look of desperation on his face.

“Please, Shardhunter,” he begged, “they took my daughters.”

“Your daughters?” I asked out of reflex.

“Yes!” his AI responded to my question. “We came here collecting Bloodroot and Heartleaf from our village when we encountered these scary, robed individuals. They had curved knives and their leader looked deformed. A black mist drifted out of him. He looked at me and froze. He grabbed both my daughters and took them in there!” Tears brimmed in the man's eyes. “Please, they're only eighteen. Virgins! There's power in purity for those foul kind.”

“Oh, no!” Iris gasped.

“If you save them before they're sacrificed, I promise you that one will make you a good servant. NamE is a fantastic cook, and NamE can sew any clothing you need. Just, please, help them.”

“My servants, huh?” I asked, an exciting thrill. Saving a virgin and getting the reward. I was liking the game more and more. “Sure, I'll take the quest.”

“Thank you!” he gasped, shaking my hand. “Thank you, good sir.”

“Marcus,” I said, the RPG spirit of this place infecting me. “If there are maidens in need of saving, I am the hero for you.”

“I know you are, Marcus!”

Damn, this game kept impressing me.

I glanced at the entrance to the temple, then up at the busty statue. She had drops beading on her nipples. Milk? What a hot treat that would be. “You imagine she'll be in there, Iris.”

“She?” The pixie darted to the statue and sat down on a stone nipple, straddling it with her legs and rubbing her pussy on it. “This is Shuwëmeri. She's the Goddess of Fertility and Lust, one of the Gods of Order. This must be her temple. 'Be welcome and sup deep from my mother's milk all who need succor and peace,' is what's written at the base of the statue.”

I glanced down at the strange runes. “Good to know. I hope there's some of that treat.”

Iris glanced at the temple. “It looks abandoned since the Shattering. Many lost their faith in the Gods, but they lost their faith in us. It's why they broke the world.”

“And now there's some evil cultist in here.” I shook my head. “Figures.”

She gave a sad nod of her head. She then rose up. “Good thing you are here to set things right, Marcus.”

“Yeah,” I said and marched towards the entrance of the temple.

I passed into darkness. I blinked as the screen slowly lightened, adjusting like my vision was. Out of the shadows came movement. I raised my shield as three orcs appeared. There was no mistaking the look of the humanoid enemy. Strong and muscular, brutish faces. They had red skin, not green, and wore leather armor and pants. Two wielded rusting swords while the third, larger than the others, wielded at two-handed mace.

“Blood-Stained Orcs!” gasped Iris. “Be careful, Marcus.”

“I just need to kill them,” I said and then Yelled.

I charged at the nearest one and unleashed a Hard Strike. My ax crashed into the first, leaving a bloody gash across his chest. The second fell on me, hitting me from behind, red flashing at the bottom of the screen. Then the first hit me, slipping past my shielded.

“Guard! Guard!” shouted Iris.

I raised my shield and swung a second blow with my copper ax, cutting off the first's head. It fell back to the ground, thrashing. I fell on the second as the boss advanced, his footsteps thumps. I slashed into the second grunt's chest, leaving a bleeding wound.

Then the boss raised his Maul. I raised my shield.

 A deep, bellowing roar filled my headphones. The maul slammed into my shield. The force threw me back. I hit the ground and the entire screen shook. I struggled to move, but my character refused to cooperate. A debuff symbol appeared in the corner, a head with zagging lines bursting off of it.

“Stunned?” I groaned.

The boss laughed, the prick, and then slammed his maul down. Damage burst from me. My hit points dwindled. He hit me a second time. A third time while his minion hacked his rusting sword into me.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I growled, my life almost gone. “Wear off!”

The stun wore off. I raised my shield, catching the next sword stroke. I hit my hot bar and drank my Diluted Potion of Angel Passion. My character slammed back the red healing potion. Twenty hit points, five normal strikes from the boss, regained. I had a chance again.

The boss smacked me in the head. My character lurched from the blow. I snarled and slammed my last Hard Strike into his flank. His hit points dwindled. The stun had eaten up my Yell buff. My hit points drained as the pair attacked me. My ax swung. My shield blocked.

My heart pounded. Sweaty palms grabbed my two control sticks. I swung them before me. I smacked into the orc, reveling in his yells. Iris shouted on the periphery. My hit points dwindled again and again.

The orc drew back, another stunner. It fell down.

I leaped back. It slammed into the ground before me. The floor shook. Sparks burst. I leaped forward and slashed my ax. It buried deep into his meaty shoulder blades. It spurted blood. The boss snarled as he reeled back and then crashed to the ground.

I did it. I beat the—

The second grunt stabbed me, almost killing me.

“You're not taking me down, bastard!” I growled. I wouldn't lose a Hardcore character on the first boss encounter. I hacked. Hard.

One. Two. Three blows slammed into the orc. Virtual blood spurted, drops splattering on my vision before fading away. The orc bellowed and then stumbled back. 

“Khah!” it cursed as it sagged down and hit the ground.

The XP bar at the bottom of my screen, which had been filling up with blue, hit the end. A burst of golden light erupted around me. My HP went from 3 to 48. My TP Reformed. A new skill flashed across my screen.

“Ooh, you did it!” whooped Iris, her hips swaying in the air. “Yay, yay! And you got your first level up!”

“I did,” I said and noticed the corpses all had a faint shimmer. I looted them for some copper coins and a Diluted Potion of Angel Passion, replacing the one I lost. Then, out of a swirl of silver light, a chest appeared in the middle of the room.

“Wow, you spawn the Ultimate chest,” Iris said. She soared towards it and darted it around it. The chest was bound in silver and burst with sparks. “Do you know how amazing that is? I didn't even know it was possible.”

“Yeah, probably not a lot of people spend $50,000 on a dumb loot box,” I said. This could never be worth it. Probably some weapon that I'd out level pretty fast. Maybe some special gear that only made sense if I knew the other games the developers created. Things like that. Well, I rolled my shoulders, grabbed the chest, and ripped it open.

Sparks exploded. They showered across my vision. I gasped as something struck me. Not in the game, but in life. My computer chair rolled back. A fist seized my chest. I screamed, my heart bursting with agony.

Something wrenched at me. I fell forward, the world twisting, compressing. I threw away the controller. I ripped off the goggles. I caught a glimpse of my computer screen, my character standing idle on it. My vision narrowed into a cone that dragged me forward.

I screamed as I plunged forward into...

Chapter Two

Pain.

Darkness.

Light. 

A groggy rise to consciousness. 

Who am I?

Mark Taylor...

Who I was. Man who worked hard. Investment banker. Spent my life grinding for that money. Why? Love. Marriage. Kids. All lies. I ground for nothing. I might as well have been playing an MMORPG for the last twenty-five years. 

Least I wouldn't feel empty now.

Who am I?

Marcus Aurelius?

A fabrication. A fantasy. Why not be him? Marcus Aurelius didn't grind to support a cheating wife and bastard kids who weren't his. Marcus Aurelius didn't work ungodly hours only to see it all taken away.

Why not be him?

I felt a body. Different. Strong. Young. No aches in my joints. No soreness in my lower back that made sleeping hard. No need for high blood pressure medicine. Flesh at the start of life. Able to make new decisions.

Marcus Aurelius.

A faint sensation. A small tongue, warm and wet, licking at the tip of my cock. It fluttered in such a playful manner. I groaned as it the sensation drew me out of the abyss. Light bled through eyelids, the world assuming a faint, orange hue. 

“Damn,” I groaned, struggling to open them. The small tongue licked across my slit, just nuzzling into it. Then slurping sound. “What happened?”

“Marcus?” a cheerful voice asked. Another lick. “Oh, Marcus, good, you're coming awake! Boy, gaining a level really zonked you out.”

“Level...” I blinked as I stared up at the ceiling. Shadowed cracks, vines breaking through to dangle with fronds.

Vines? Stone Ceiling. Was I still in the game? I reached my hands up to pull off the headset. My fingers slid across a face. Different from mine. Skin smoothed. Nose bolder. I drew over lips. The tongue kept licking at me. A warm body hugged my cock. Something juicy rubbed midway down. It was like a miniature person had wrapped herself around my dick.

“What is going on?” I groaned.

“You passed out on the level up, Marcus,” the squeaky voice said.

“Iris?” I asked. 

“Yes?” she asked. A buzzing sound and then she humped up and down my cock. I could feel her small nipples, twin points, rubbing back and forth over my frenulum, the sensitive boundary between tip and crown. He tongue licked and my slit. Her juicy pussy rubbed me.

“How are you humping my cock?” I groaned.

“I undid the lacing of your leather pants and extricated. I knew my pussy and cute body would rouse you.”

“But why?” I groaned. She felt so good, but... How was I in the game? Had I gone crazy.

That chest... The computer pulling me in...

The $50,000 microtransaction. Had it pulled me into the game. Digitized me. Gave me a new beginning. I could grind to something better. Something funner. What happened to my real me? Did it matter? Wasn't this the real men?

Felt like my thoughts. 

And that small body humping on my cock. A pixie was making love to my dick. She ground that juicy twat on me. She fanned her wings, the buzzing sound, to working body up and down my cock. Give me the pleasure I craved. 

I embraced it.

“Think I need to be roused more,” I groaned.

“Spoken like a true Shardhunter!” she exclaimed and continued humping up and down my cock. Faster. Harder. She stimulated me. 

I stared down my body, past the coat of chain to watch the little pixie. Her pink hair swayed about her little face as she sucked at the precum beading out of my cock like she supped upon nectar from a flower. Her body held me tight. Her thighs and arms wrapped about my body. Her gossamer wings hummed away.

I groaned, the sounds echoing through the room. My hands clenched and relaxed. Her hot pussy rubbed up and down my cock. The feel of her small breasts sliding over the frenulum of my cock sent such heat surging down my cock.

My balls boiled.

“I'm going to drown you in cum,” I groaned.

“Goodie!” she moaned, her hips wiggling from side to side, buffing that hairless twat on the side of my cock. If only she were bigger. “Just drown me, Marcus! I'm yours!”

“Yes, you are,” I growled, loving the sound of that. And she didn't even count towards my harem. I loved this. Such an exciting treat.

Her face nuzzled into my cock's tip. She licked and lapped and did such naughty things to me. I groaned, loving the way her thighs flexed about my shaft, her pussy humping. Those little titties massaged me.

The pressure built fast. This new life had such intriguing possibilities. My chainmail jingled around my torso. I breathed in deeply, the earthy scent of the ruined temple filling my nose. It was all so real. Hear.

This was incredible. Worth $50,000 dollars.

“Iris!” I growled. “Goddamn, that's good. I'm going to cum in you. Fuck!”

My cock throbbed and pulsed, twitching against the hum of her wings keep it erect. Then my jizz fired from the tip. She thrust her head over it, eyes closed. The second blast engulfed her little features in my jizz. I soaked her in a thick coating of cum while the pleasure slammed through my body.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I grunted, my body trembling through the bliss. It felt incredible. Stars danced before my eyes. “That's fucking amazing.”

The cum spilled down her face to her shoulders. More jizz fired up in the air and rained around us. The pleasure filled my mind with bliss. It felt more powerful than any orgasm I could remember. My body spasmed.

I heard her sucking. The cum on her face drew into her little mouth, exposing the features of her face coated in a layer of pearly spunk. Her tongue licked out, seeming too big. It crossed her entire face, devouring all the cum adorning her.

“Oh, that's so yummy!” she moaned and ducked her head in for the final blast.

The weak, watery spurt only coated her face, but she loved it. She rubbed her cheeks and nose into my slit, reveling in it. Her wings hummed so fast. They blurred. The sound increased, her body pulling against my cock. Then she slipped off and shot up into the air. She hit the ceiling in a burst of rainbow dust.

“Iris, fuck!” I snarled, struggling to rise.

“I'm okay!” she moaned and appeared out of it. “I'm a pixie. Takes more than little conk on the head to slow me down.” She zoomed down, her body entirely clean of my cum. She planted a kiss on my nose. “How do you feel, Marcus.”

“Fucking fantastic.”

She giggled in delight. “That's what I want to hear.” She struck a pose in the air, hands on hips, head thrown back. Somehow, her pink hair rippled in a breeze I didn't feel. “I am the great and amazing Iris! Pixie extraordinaire.” 

“Yes, you are,” I said.

“Ooh, ooh, and you're level two. You have more hit points and technical points, your strength went up two hole points because you're a Fighter.” She grinned at me. “Do you feel stronger.”

“I don't know,” I said, lacing up my breeches. 

“Well, it's incremental, but as you gain those levels, you'll grow. You're lucky to be a Shardhunter and able to gather experience and take into you to make yourself stronger.”

“Ah, that's how it works,” I said.

“And, and you gained a new skill. Vigilance! It's a passive camp skill that gives an increased chance of gaining an advantage in a camping ambush.”

“And camping's how I regain my hit points and technical points.”

“Outside of leveling,” she said, nodding. “It's also a great time to get to know a pretty lady or three.”

Or three... “I like your attitude, Iris.”

“Well, I am your helper. I should be compatible with you.” She turned around and bent over, flashing her little pussy at me. “See how wet I am. If only you could fit your cock in here, but you're toooooooo big.”

“That's never been a problem for me,” I muttered. Then I leaned in and licked her pussy, swiping across her rump and ass. She tasted like... apricots. “Damn, I like that.”

“So did I,” she cooed. 

I picked up my discarded shield. I had to actually hold it. The shield had weight. On the inside there was an iron band I slipped my arm through and then a handle I held. I hefted my copper ax and sheathed on my belt. Curious, I tapped her belly.

The menu appeared, dazzling like a hologram before me. It showed my stats. I had 48 HP and 12 TP now. My Strength had gone up to 14 but my other three primary stats, Dexterity, Faith, and Intelligence had not change. Somehow, they generated my four secondary stats: Vitality, Resilience, Knowledge, and Perception. Not surprisingly, Vitality and Resilience were higher than the other two. So I wasn't as good at figuring out lore or spotting things, I guess. But I could take hits and probably resist status effects well.

The other menus, like for Options and Items were missing. And there was no Lore menu, either. It was just character stats, info on my weapons—which were all basic, Level 1 gear—my abilities, and my traits. I guess I had the items in my belt pouch. It seemed small to hold two potions and coins. I reached in and felt nothing.

My brow furrowed.

“Just think about it,” Iris said with a patient reminder.

I thought of the Potion of Diluted Angel Passion and suddenly I felt it in my hand. I pulled it out and nodded. It was a strange hybrid of realistic and video game. I pushed it back in and felt it dematerialize. 

“Well, I guess we should press on,” I said. “You said this was a temple to some fertility goddess.”

“Shuwëmeri,” she said. “She would be horrified by what I've seen. Look, it's been defiled.”

She pointed to bloody runes drawn on the wall. It still looked tacky, like it wasn't more than a few days old at most. “Those cultists that old man mentioned.” 

“Right,” she said. “Shall we rescue the maidens fair.”

I smiled. One of those girls would be a quest reward. I smiled and said, “Let's brave these perilous ruins and save them from the foul cultist who have so churlishly taken them.”

Iris giggled. “You're speech got all serious and stuff. I like it. Verily, I doth declare, let us sally forth and kick ass!”

She darted ahead, leaving a streak of pixie dust in her wake.

She went towards an hallway mouth with a curtain of veins. It grew dark beyond, but she shed light, blowing like a bobbing lantern. I pushed the fronds out of the way with my right hand. My fighting hand. The feathery tendrils caressed me. They had a wet scent about them. Almost like moss.

The walls here were made of the same mortared brick. They sagged in places, bowed outward or buckled inward. Stones had shifted, the mortar crumbling. The ceiling looked precious above, like one wrong stone knocked out and it would drop on my head. Water trickled down, bringing an earthy musk with it.

Did I get thirsty? Hungry? I didn't notice a food system when I came in, but maybe I missed it. No, one of the daughters was a cook. How did that work? I felt full for now. I guess i hoped that Iris wouldn't have led me in here if I didn't have what it took to sustain my life.

The corridor had several rooms branching off. One had caved in, rubble spilling to the door. The next had rotten furniture. A dresser or cabinet. The metal fixtures had tarnished to a bluish-green, the verdigris dribbling down the wood. A musty smell lingered. I moved on, my heart beating faster and faster.

The feeling of being alive. Not an office slave crammed in a cubicle. Not a middle manager clawing his way towards the executive office. Not reaching the top and realizing how empty it all was. That work to get there only have everything you care for crumble from your grasp. I didn't live before.

I worked.

I smiled and moved faster. This young body was in better shape than I'd ever been. I rounded the corner, Iris buzzing beside me. The hallway stretched out before us, a statue in a alcove broken in half, revealing a hollow shell. Bits of and pieces, a nipple on a breast, a dainty nose, several fingers, lay amid the dust and detritus on the floor. 

They crunched beneath my boots.

A whimpering yelp drifted down the hallway. A cry for help. A woman, in danger. I grinned. She needed a hero to come save her. Marcus Aurelius, Shardhunter. Fighter. I drew my ax and readied my yellow. Ahead, the corridor widened onto a dark room.

“Please, please, you don't have to do this!” the woman gasped.

“You're airy existence is just what the Destruction needs,” a harsh voice rasped.

Iris squeaked in alarm.

I burst into the room to find a shaft of sunlight falling on a makeshift altar. A woman lay bound to it, but not human. She had blue skin, her body tall and lean, petite. Her small breasts quivered as she fought against the bonds binding her hands and feet the slab of stone. Her white hair, not from age given the firm loveliness of her body, moved like an unfeeling breeze gusted through the room. Her head tossed back and forth.

She saw me. Gray eyes locked on me.

“Please, please, save me! They're going to kill me!”

They turned out to be three  men wearing black, rotting robes that hung over their emaciated frames. One turned his head to face me, human, but eyes maddened. He held a rusting dagger in a gnarled grip. He turned back to her, and muttered in a harsh language.

“Foul Dēmodith,” gasped Iris. “The language of demons and the Dark Gods of Chaos. They must serve Rūzem, God of Decay and the opposite to fertile Shuwëmeri.”

The muttering was reaching a pitch. The woman screamed for help again. If I kept to the right side of the room, I could bypass them. The exit lay beyond. The cultist hadn't aggroed on me. It was a sidequest. 

Optional content.

Maybe if this was a game, if I had controllers in my hands and a VR headset on I might skip it. Might. But I was here in flesh and blood. An adventure. Seeing her bound naked and these three foul men muttering incantations over me set my blood to boiling.

I yelled.

The roar surged through me and infused me with power. Strength. I felt it coursing through my body like an extra-wild jolt of adrenaline. I felt invincible. Ready to destroy these cultists. I charged forward, boots thudding on the ground.

“Beware their daggers!” Iris called. “They look foul. Stained. Something festers on them!”

The cultist who'd looked at me just turned back to face me when I fell on him. I raised my ax. There was no button click. No menu I had to navigate. I knew how to deliver Hard Strike. I slammed my level one fighter attack into him, feeling the potential, martial might in my body surging to fulfill the knead.

My copper ax slammed down and cashed down into the cultist's upraised arm. A deep blow, cutting through his rotted rob and into his arm. Bone shattered. He snarled, but not in pain, in ecstatic joy. His face twisted with an almost sexual mania.

“Fucking sadomasochistic perv!” I growled and wrenched my blade free. His ruined arm collapsed, his dagger held in the other. He went to stab it, but my ax fell down harder. I buried it into his chest, cracking ribs and his sternum. Hitting lungs and heart. His eyes widened. In that last moment, I witnessed horror.

Then he collapsed to the ground, wrenching free of my ax.

“Fair maiden, I am Marcus Aurelius, and I am your champion!” I bellowed, this rush of invisibility surging through me as the other two cultist rounded the altar.

They hissed at me, robs whisking as they rushed at me. One had brown spittle bubbling at his lips. He had a look of abject rage in his eyes. He reached me and thrust in with his knife as I swung my ax hard at him.

He ducked.

His knife slithered past my shield and cut into the meat of my inner arm. Pain exploded through me. A festering, burning agony. The wound turned black. Rotting blood pumped out of, stained into a thick gunk. It devoured up my arm, consuming my vessels from the inside.

“God fucking damn shit!” I snarled, my fingers clenching on my shield. It kept hurting. “A damned DOT at level 2?”

Damage Over Time. An ability that would keep hurting me. I felt my hit points dwindling with every heartbeat. How long would it last? Would I survive it? Did the rules of a video game apply enough, or had I just gotten some virulent infection that would kill me.

Rage surged through me.

Hard Strike slammed into the bastard's shoulder. I ripped back my weapon and used it again as he recoiled back. The damage was overkill. I split his skull open. I roared my triumph over the grizzly death and kicked the bastard back. My shield arm boiled with pain, feeding my righteous satisfaction in killing him.

“Stab me, you pencildick pissant!” I bellowed.

Footsteps whisked behind me. He attacked in fast. I raised my shield up to catch the rusted dagger. It gouged into the wood. My TP dwindled with my HP. I was down to enough TP to use Hard Strike one more time, and then I would be out. I wouldn't get anymore until I leveled or camped.

And I didn't feel like I would level.

The pain in my arm begged me to use the ability. To kill this last cultist before he hit me with that blade and I took more pain. The gamer in me thought of resource management. This was a dungeon slog. I had to conserve. Use abilities at the right time.

“Dammit!” I snarled and attacked, feeling the strength of yell flagging. Twenty seconds seemed like an eternity in the midst of fighting, but it was almost up.

My ax hit the cults in the arm, drawing a bleeding one. He exulted like the others, his lips curling back to show rotting teeth. Black pits dug into stained enamel. Cackling, he thrust his dagger at again and again. I blocked the two hits and swung, biting into his side.

Blood welled across the copper head of my ax. It stained his foul robes. He staggered and recovered, a low swipe that ducked under my school and slashed across my leather pants. The blade cut flesh.

The agony devoured up and down my leg. I snarled, the burning reaching to my groin. It hurt worse than my arm, which was dying down. I howled and swung my ax in a brutal swing that caught the cultist in the neck.

Blood spurted. Sinew severed. Half the head leaned over. Then the cultist toppled to the ground, twithching on the buckled stones. I staggered into the shaft of light bathing the blue-skinned woman. I leaned on the edge of the altar, feeling my hit points run out.

“Goddamn!” I spat. “That fucking hurts, Iris.”

“Festering wounds,” she said. “How are you.”

“It's going away,” I panted and stared down at the sylph. She stared up at me with such joy on her lips, arms thrust over her head, body quivering. 

“Thank you!” she said, tears beading her eyes. “Thank you, good Shardhunter!”

I nodded, the pain in my leg dwindling as the DOT ran its course. With snarl, I slammed my ax down into the rope binding her arms over her head. My ax cut through it with ease.