Saturday, January 19, 2013

Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-7 A Sticky Starting Scrap

More gooey goodness with the gorgeous Suraimo. (usual age-sensitive/NSFW warnings apply!)

“You do know what this game is about?” Suraimo asked.

“It’s a pervy hentai game and I’m going to beat it,” Jackson said.  His face was stern as he settled into a fighting stance with his sword held out before him.

Suraimo clapped her hands and giggled.  Her gelatinous body shook like an excitable cheerleader.

“That’s the spirit,” she said.  “I love the ones that really get into the role,” she added conspiratorially.

She started with her slime trap again.  No problem.  He knew what to do.  He selected struggle and stepped back out of the sticky puddle.  Now what?  He tried attacking and again Suraimo easily sidestepped his heavy swing.  Her wet hand rubbed up his crotch.

Jackson took a moment to consider his next action.

That swing had been truly inept.  Jackson was a pasty-faced gamer who spent most of his waking hours on a sofa and even he could swing a sword better than that.

Hey wait, what if this was one of those stupid story-building sections?  Where the player had to learn the basic moves that would set him on the path to being a hero.

He selected attack again.

He lunged forward and drove his stupidly large sword right through the center of Suraimo’s chest until the blade emerged from the other side.

Yeah baby!  That’s what we’re talking about.

Suraimo looked down at the sword sticking out of her chest.   She seemed completely unfazed by the four feet of steel transfixing her body.  With good reason, as it happened.  As terminal as the strike looked, it had only knocked off maybe a third or quarter of her life bar.

A quarter?  For running her through?  Stupid RPG mechanics, Jackson thought.  At least he’d struck a blow and damaged her.

The sword came free with a sound like thick mud sucking on a foot.  Suraimo smiled at him.  A message flashed up in Jackson’s control panel.  He watched the gash in her chest close up.  Her green life bar filled back up to full.

“You can regenerate?” Jackson asked, shocked.

“Slimes have been known to possess that ability, yes,” Suraimo said.

She regenerated?  Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.

This was the first battle?  How was he supposed to fucking beat her?  It was fucking impossible.

Maybe that was the point.  Maybe the fight was supposed to be unwinnable.

He hadn’t used the sixth command yet.  That was because it had to be run away and only lamers picked run away.

Unless . . .

Yes, it was just like that stupid practice swing.  He wasn’t supposed to win this fight.  This was part of the story.  This was the part where he’d try to go it alone, get his ass handed to him by the first monster he came across, and then escape back to the village where some badass gramps would teach him The Way of the Exploding Double Dragon or some other bullshit like that.

Yes.  That had to be it.

He selected the sixth command.

He knew he’d made a mistake when he saw Suraimo’s eyes light up.

“Oh, that’s my favorite option,” she said.

What the fuck had he done now?

Jackson’s arms fell loosely to his sides.  He dropped the sword.  Suraimo glided down the path towards him, hips swaying slinkily from side to side.  He made no move to stop her as she undid and dropped his pants.

“That wasn’t the run away option, was it?” Jackson asked the obvious.

“Nope.”  Suraimo shook her head.

She turned around and backed into him.  She rubbed the soft curves of her ass against his crotch.  She took his hands and pressed them into the soft gelatinous mounds of her breasts.  She turned her head and planted a wet kiss on Jackson’s cheek.

“Mmm.  Choices, choices.  I think I’ll use some moves that aren’t in the script.”

She gave him a lewd wink and wriggled against his captive body.  She squeezed his hands, forcing him to squeeze her pliable boobs.  She rubbed her ass up and down, sliding his erection along the slippery crack between her ass cheeks.

“What was that option?” Jackson asked.  And why had it taken away all his options?

Suraimo leaned her head back against his shoulder.  Glops of whatever she had instead of hair oozed down his back.

“That’s the option for ‘surrender and let the girl do whatever she wants to you’.”

“What!”  Jackson shrieked.  “What kind of dumbass game has two surrender options!”

“A really filthy and—”

She continued to rub the elastic swell of her ass against him.  She lifted up higher and higher until his cock fell into the gap between her thighs and beneath her peachy ass.

“—perverted one.”

She came down and the head of his cock, then the whole shaft pushed up into her soft gelatinous body.

Oh fuck.

He was inside her.

“Mmm.  Oh yes,” Suraimo said.

She wriggled in his arms and he felt waves run through her semi-liquid form.  They rippled under his hands and around his cock like the caress of gentle hands.  He was inside her.  The warm slime of her body was pressing all around his erection.

“Is this your ass or pussy?” Jackson asked.

“Which would you like?” Suraimo asked.

She moved her ass against him in little circular motions.  Not fully in command of his body, Jackson followed her.  His hips added to the movements with little thrusts.  More teasing little ripples kissed up and down his sensitive hard-on.  Ass or pussy, it didn’t matter.  Not when it felt this good.  The ripples slowed down and the viscous fluids of her body thickened around his penis until it felt like soft hands were gently tugging on him.

His hands sank into the gooey mounds of her breasts.  He still felt their soft swell beneath his hands, but now it felt like they were all around his fingers.  Her own hands and arms melted over his until he was embedded in her body up to his elbows.  Pleasantly squishy sensations crackled across the touch receptors in his fingers.  So many sensations.  His hands felt the size of cars and he could distinguish each and every square centimeter.

It was the same for his cock.  It felt enormous—a column—and he felt every rippling wave of her liquid body flow over and around him as she rose up and down.

Jackson’s life bar dropped from full to empty in a very short space of time.

His hips jerked forwards and he fired a huge jet of semen into the rippling center of her body.  He watched it bloom in her belly like a mushroom cloud.  It took his strength with it.  Spent, he sagged backwards.  Suraimo lay on top of him and her liquefying body covered him like a warm blanket.  His hands were still stuck within the jiggling mass of her breasts.  She murmured as the churning center of her body drew the last puffs of his ejaculation out of his cock.  The white streams drifted within her transparent blue flesh like ghostly wisps.

“Mmm, that was nice,” Suraimo said as she lay on top of him.

Jackson selected the skip option.

“Hey!” Suraimo cried as he vanished from the path and returned to the featureless, cloudy plane.

The big tits angel wasn’t sad anymore, she was pissed.  As soon as he appeared on the plane she started yelling and jabbing a finger at him.

Oh oh.  Skip.

That didn’t help much.  She was still pissed off at him.  She waved him away with an angry gesture.

“Eager for more?” Suraimo asked as he returned back to the start of the fight.  “What would you like me to do to you this time?”

Jackson threw his sword at her.

to be continued . . .

It might work . . .


  1. When do we get to the part where Ilia gives him a handjob? :)

    1. Umm... May have missed an opportunity there. Didn't want to tread on torotoro resistance's toes too much.