Finally back down to a more manageable 1,000 words a week. This week's is short and extremely naughty.
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World: 2-6 Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
She reached in and pulled DaBigBoom right to the boundary between their squares, close enough for her to embrace him if she wished.
DaBigBoom hoped his remaining life points were considerably higher than forty-four.
Fifi put her arms around DaBigBoom’s neck. Her large black bat wings folded around him like a cape. His nostrils were filled with the musky perfume of her body. She stared into his eyes. Hers were bright and gleaming with lust.
“What’s the matter?” she asked with a disarming smile.
DaBigBoom thought of the forty-four floating up into the sky.
“I was wondering if we could, you know, skip the whole attack thing,” he said.
Fifi was close enough for her cute little button nose to brush against his. She smiled and shook her head.
“It’s a really . . . naughty attack,” she said. “You’ll love it.”
Her soft cheek rubbed against DaBigBoom’s.
“Especially when I triple it,” she whispered in his ear.
Her hands slipped down his back and she pulled their bodies together in a close embrace. Her wings tugged against his back like soft latex. He felt the soft press of her boobs against his chest. The erect points of her nipples caught on the fabric of his T-shirt.
“You’re different,” Fifi whispered in his ear. “There’s a reality about you the others don’t have.”
The spicy musk of her body, the heat, was overpowering. She nibbled on his earlobe before leaving a trail of soft kisses along his cheek. Their lips met in a passionate kiss. DaBigBoom was too lost to notice as her hands moved further down and loosened the remnants of his trousers until they slid down and fell to his ankles in a crumpled pile. DaBigBoom’s erection hadn’t even had a chance to subside. Fifi rubbed her naked crotch against him and he trembled as the hard staff of his cock slid along the folds of her sex. She was already wet.
“And you’re mature enough to truly appreciate my special . . . talents,” Fifi paused the kiss to whisper.
She stared at him with bedroom eyes. She slipped a foot out of her thigh-length heels and rubbed it down the outside of DaBigBoom’s thigh.
Fuck, she was hot—incredible. Jackson might fantasize about girls like this in the real world, but if one had thrown themselves into his arms like this he’d have assumed they were drunk, or tripping out. He peered down at the perfect pink globes of her boobs, boobs that were even now rubbing against his chest. So hot. DaBigBoom felt hot too, boiling. Given the cartoon quality of most of the setting, he was surprised steam wasn’t rushing out of his ears. Who cared she was only pixels when they felt as good as this.
“See, I told you we didn’t need to mess around with all that fighting malarkey,” DaBigBoom said.
Fifi tipped her head back and laughed. “Silly boy, I’m a succubus. Sex is my attack.”
Now that really put DaBigBoom in a quandary. His body was on fire. He really really wanted to have sex with Fifi. But if sex was her attack, how much damage would it do? And did he have enough hit points left to withstand that damage?
Fifi kissed him again.
Fuck it. It was a risk worth taking.
He put his arms around her and clutched the soft flesh of her ass cheeks. Fifi giggled and did the same back to him. He jolted with a shiver as her bulbous-ended tail curled up between his legs and left a trail of sticky kisses up the inside of his thigh. He moved his legs further apart to give her tail easier access. She rewarded him by tickling down his perineum and giving one of his testicles a pleasant little suck with her tail orifice.
Fifi unwrapped her wings from around DaBigBoom. She set her body hovering again with languid flaps. Now both of her feet were sliding up and down the outside of his legs. Her hands gripped the sides of his body and she moaned as his hard-on slid along the moist crevice of her sex.
“Want me to put it in?” DaBigBoom asked, unable to hide his enthusiasm.
Fifi smiled at him in amusement. “You want to suicide?”
Er, when you put it that way, not really, DaBigBoom thought. What was he doing? Was it really a good idea to stay in the arms of a devil woman like this?
Fifi crossed her legs behind DaBigBoom. Her sex parted like the lips of a mouth. Glistening strands of mucus formed threads between her plush labia. She gobbled up the swollen head of his cock and slid slowly—really slowly—down his shaft until her moist labia were kissing his groin.
Yep. Good idea. Definitely a good idea.
DaBigBoom closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of his manhood sliding up a moist tunnel with soft—super soft—fleshy walls. They pressed around him and undulated with gentle pulses. Fifi added to the sensation by wriggling in his lap.
Now this was definitely unprotected sex.
Normally, DaBigBoom would have been terrified of attempting a sexual position like this for fear of tipping the girl over and bouncing her skull off the floor. Girls didn’t normally have wings. Fifi might have had both feet off the ground and her legs wrapped around him, but she was definitely the one in control here. All DaBigBoom could do was stand braced with his feet apart while she flapped her midnight-black bat wings and moved her body against him like a wave.
Up, down, her hips moved. Up, down; DaBigBoom sighed as his erection moved inside a moist, lubricated channel of heavenly soft flesh. Fifi gave her own sighs as her hips met his with a lewd squelch. Her juices bubbled out and dribbled down the insides of his thighs. He felt the lascivious suction of her sex as each downward stroke of her wings took her hips up to the peak of the next stroke.
“I can take triple of this,” DaBigBoom said.
“Mmm, that’s good to hear,” Fifi said, “then let’s begin.”
Begin? Weren’t they already beginning?
Next week: Fifi unleashes her extremely naughty attack.
Showing posts with label computer games. Show all posts
Showing posts with label computer games. Show all posts
Monday, October 15, 2012
Tuesday, October 09, 2012
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World: 2-5 Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
Late, but still going. We're into X-rated territory now, so if you ain't 18, now's the time to skedaddle.
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World 2-5: Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions.
DaBigBoom hit the ground at the feet of the succubus with a krump.
He didn’t explode.
This seemed to take everyone by surprise.
DaBigBoom awkwardly picked himself back up. The succubus floated in front of him. Her smile and the seductive gleam in her eyes—more lustful even than Fiore’s for her underage pin-up—had returned to her face.
“Um . . . hi,” DaBigBoom said.
“Hi,” the succubus replied. She pushed out her considerable chest.
Now what? DaBigBoom looked over to Pihanga. She was motioning Fiore to move towards a guard on the right-hand side of the bridge. She turned to DaBigBoom and pointed in the direction of the succubus.
DaBigBoom held up his child-sized bow. The stupid thing had snapped in half when he’d landed on it.
Pihanga didn’t care. She furiously jabbed her finger in the direction of the succubus. Her orders given she turned her attentions back to the guards still standing after she’d thrown KwinnyBomb at them.
DaBigBoom turned back to the succubus and gave an embarrassed shrug. She smiled and giggled. Her ample bosom jiggled with her laughter. She didn’t seem that bad, DaBigBoom thought.
“We could always just watch the others get on with it,” he suggested. “We don’t have to get involved.”
“I’m Fifi,” the succubus said. “Who might you be?”
“DaBigBoom,” DaBigBoom said, cursing the syllables as they slipped out of his mouth. “It’s not my real name,” he hastily added.
“Those jackets look uncomfortably hot,” Fifi said.
She stepped up to the edge of her square. DaBigBoom jolted backwards as he felt something pliant and flexible reach up between his legs. Her tail. Unlike Pihanga’s, the end of Fifi’s tail swelled out into a bulbous structure that resembled a jar. The end opened out into three flexible and triangular flanges.
“You’d be much more comfortable with less . . . covering,” Fifi said. The nuance didn’t escape DaBigBoom.
“It is a little hot,” he said. “What about you?”
“I’m extremely hot,” the succubus said.
DaBigBoom wasn’t about to argue with that.
Pink sparks crackled around the flanges of her tail. It started to glow like it was covered in St. Elmo’s fire.
Oh, she meant that kind of hot. DaBigBoom wasn’t sure he liked that kind of hot.
Fifi held her tail like a rifle with the bulbous tip pointing at DaBigBoom. A fleshy orifice yawned open at the end. The tail vibrated, the bulbous end swelled and it spat a glob of sparkling pink energy at DaBigBoom.
He was flung backwards by the impact.
Or would have been. Any backward motion would have sent him out of the square he was currently in and that didn’t appear to be allowed by the physics of the game world. Instead, he did a kind of cartoon back flip on the spot.
Once again DaBigBoom was lying on his back and watching numbers float up into the darkness. At least this time it was a small number—a solitary four. Was that all? He felt considerably more beat up than someone who’d only lost four hit points. He picked himself back up.
“Mmm,” Fifi said. She looked down his body and smiled appreciatively.
He looked down and saw why. His clothes were fried, at least the ones around his crotch. The front of his trousers and the underpants beneath were gone, as was most of the bottom of his plain T-shirt. His exposed skin was marred with little smudges of black ash. None of his three jackets had lost so much as a stitch.
“Um . . .” DaBigBoom said, realising he was showing his todger off to a girl, an extremely hot girl. He knew she was a devil and made out of pixels besides, but that didn’t stop his face flaring bright red in embarrassment.
“Tut tut,” Fifi said. “You should be more careful about exposing your weak point like that.”
Weak point?
Fifi did a graceful pirouette on the spot and boom-boomed a hip at him, revealing a luscious peach of an arse. DaBigBoom was so busy looking at it he didn’t notice her tail whip around and plunge into his crotch like a striking snake.
He doubled up. Not because she’d hit him with any force, but in the automatic male response to objects being flung at his unprotected goolies.
His evasion attempt failed. The slimy flanges of her tail left sticky trails across his skin. It was rooting around in his crotch for something.
“Where are you?” Fifi said.
The snuffling orifice at the end of her fleshy tail found the end of his cock.
Oh no.
“Ah, there you are,” Fifi said.
The bulbous tip of her tail expanded. The end of DaBigBoom’s penis was sucked into the moist orifice.
No, no, no! he thought with horror.
He tried to pull away, but her tail had already vacuum-sealed itself to his groin. Its fleshy flanges were stuck fast to his skin and his todger—his lovely todger!—was all the way inside the bulbous jar at the end of it.
Fifi giggled at his futile attempts to escape her tail. “I have you now.”
The bulbous end swelled up and down like bellows. DaBigBoom doubled up again, but this time it was from unexpected pleasure.
Huh, that felt . . . pretty good.
The inside of her tail was slimy, but it was the good kind of slimy—moist, warm, tight, soft. Back in the real world Jackson wasn’t exactly the most sociable, but he wasn’t a complete stranger to sex, although he’d never experienced it without a condom. Was this what unprotected sex felt like? Her soft fleshy walls and warm juices squished around his member.
The bulbous jar slowly pulsed. Blood raced to DaBigBoom’s groin and his hard-on expanded within her tail until it was pushing back at the fleshy tissue wrapped all around him.
Fifi gave her sexy arse a little wiggle. DaBigBoom heard a strange gurgling sound. He didn’t have to ponder it for long before the bulbous end of her tail swelled up and filled with a warm, silky liquid. The jar contracted and DaBigBoom gasped as he felt warm fluids rush back and forth around his shaft. Her soft flesh pressed up all around his cock and gave it a teasing little tug.
What the hell kind of attack was this? DaBigBoom looked at the sultry form of the succubus. He could understand horny and frustrated game artists sneaking in a bit of fetish-bait for the lulz, but this was way beyond that. It felt like she was blowing him with her tail and that kind of shit only happened in the cheap and nasty hentai games.
Fifi’s full lips parted in a sexy pout. Her heavy breasts had fallen out of her skimpy bra. Her left hand was already at her nipple and pawing her soft pink flesh. Her other hand was down between her legs and rubbing her pussy through the thin black material of her panties.
Okay, they were definitely no longer in a children’s game, or in any game that could be stocked in a normal high-street store.
Again.
What was it with this crazy fucked-up world?
Not that DaBigBoom was complaining. The inside of her tail felt fucking incredible around his cock.
Fifi’s cheeks reddened. She closed her eyes and gave a series of little sexy gasps. The bulbous organ at the end of her tail began to pulsate faster and faster.
Oh fuck.
DaBigBoom closed his eyes and gave a little moan of his own. Her tail pulsed and sucked on his cock. He didn’t know what she was doing in there, but he definitely didn’t want her to stop. Her slick walls rubbed up and down his shaft, sliding on a sensual layer of warm, silky liquid. Soft flesh contracted and gently pumped his swollen glans. Like a kiss.
Fifi’s gasps grew louder and came more frequently. The pulsations of her tail speeded up to match. DaBigBoom was no longer doubled up but instead bent back the other way, teetering on unsteady legs with his crotch thrust out before him while Fifi’s tail-full-of-every-known-hooker’s-trick continued to work over his helpless manhood.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she squealed in delight.
Oh fuck. DaBigBoom couldn’t hold on any longer. His hips jerked forwards, driving him deeper into the moist, sticky flesh of her pulsing tail pot. His erection swelled and he ejaculated a tension-flattening glob of spunk right into her tail.
Fifi gave a long, contented sigh. Her tail continued to move around DaBigBoom’s cock, the motions slower and more deliberate now. She sucked on his spurting penis, gulped down his ejaculate and kept sucking until DaBigBoom’s pipes were well and truly drained. Then her tail detached with a wet shlup.
DaBigBoom rocked on his feet. His knees, his whole body felt like a wobbly plate of jelly. A ghostly red heart blossomed in the air between them, before floating up into the darkness.
Aw, how sweet, DaBigBoom thought.
Then he noticed the number, forty-four, floating up from him.
Fuck, it had been an attack after all. It had bashed forty-four off his unknown number of hit points.
It was worse than that.
The same number, but in green rather than white, was floating above Fifi’s head.
Fuck, the cheeky minx had sucked forty-four points right out of him and added it to her own hit points.
More importantly, DaBigBoom wondered how the fuck he was supposed to defeat her if every attack restored that much of her health. His crappy little broken bow certainly wasn’t going to cut it.
“Delicious,” Fifi said, running a tongue around her sensual red lips. She opened her eyes. “Oh, you’re still alive. How wonderful.”
DaBigBoom suspected her happiness at his still being alive was because it meant she could attack him again rather than any concern for his wellbeing.
“Hmm, I wonder.”
Fifi pulled down and stepped out of her panties. The game had definitely swerved off into X-rated territory. The hairless folds of her pussy were clearly visible to DaBigBoom, and anyone else that happened to be looking.
“Did they tell you how these coloured squares work?”
Fifi motioned to the ground around them. Most of the ground was grey apart from some squares that glowed with red, blue, green or yellow light.
“Nope. It never came up,” DaBigBoom said.
“How silly.” Fifi tsked. “How can anyone plan strategy without accounting for the Terra effect squares. Oh well. You see, the different colours grant different abilities. Some are negative—they lower attack or inflict damage. Others have positive effects.”
Stepping elegantly on her stiletto high heels, Fifi walked around him until she was standing on the red square adjacent to his.
“Now this square grants me two additional attacks,” Fifi said. Her eyes gleamed with lust.
Uh oh, DaBigBoom thought.
“Mmm, and I have just the attack I’d like to triple up on,” Fifi said.
She reached in and pulled DaBigBoom right to the boundary between their squares, close enough for her to embrace him if she wished.
DaBigBoom hoped his remaining life points were considerably higher than forty-four.
to be continued next week . . .
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World 2-5: Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions.
DaBigBoom hit the ground at the feet of the succubus with a krump.
He didn’t explode.
This seemed to take everyone by surprise.
DaBigBoom awkwardly picked himself back up. The succubus floated in front of him. Her smile and the seductive gleam in her eyes—more lustful even than Fiore’s for her underage pin-up—had returned to her face.
“Um . . . hi,” DaBigBoom said.
“Hi,” the succubus replied. She pushed out her considerable chest.
Now what? DaBigBoom looked over to Pihanga. She was motioning Fiore to move towards a guard on the right-hand side of the bridge. She turned to DaBigBoom and pointed in the direction of the succubus.
DaBigBoom held up his child-sized bow. The stupid thing had snapped in half when he’d landed on it.
Pihanga didn’t care. She furiously jabbed her finger in the direction of the succubus. Her orders given she turned her attentions back to the guards still standing after she’d thrown KwinnyBomb at them.
DaBigBoom turned back to the succubus and gave an embarrassed shrug. She smiled and giggled. Her ample bosom jiggled with her laughter. She didn’t seem that bad, DaBigBoom thought.
“We could always just watch the others get on with it,” he suggested. “We don’t have to get involved.”
“I’m Fifi,” the succubus said. “Who might you be?”
“DaBigBoom,” DaBigBoom said, cursing the syllables as they slipped out of his mouth. “It’s not my real name,” he hastily added.
“Those jackets look uncomfortably hot,” Fifi said.
She stepped up to the edge of her square. DaBigBoom jolted backwards as he felt something pliant and flexible reach up between his legs. Her tail. Unlike Pihanga’s, the end of Fifi’s tail swelled out into a bulbous structure that resembled a jar. The end opened out into three flexible and triangular flanges.
“You’d be much more comfortable with less . . . covering,” Fifi said. The nuance didn’t escape DaBigBoom.
“It is a little hot,” he said. “What about you?”
“I’m extremely hot,” the succubus said.
DaBigBoom wasn’t about to argue with that.
Pink sparks crackled around the flanges of her tail. It started to glow like it was covered in St. Elmo’s fire.
Oh, she meant that kind of hot. DaBigBoom wasn’t sure he liked that kind of hot.
Fifi held her tail like a rifle with the bulbous tip pointing at DaBigBoom. A fleshy orifice yawned open at the end. The tail vibrated, the bulbous end swelled and it spat a glob of sparkling pink energy at DaBigBoom.
He was flung backwards by the impact.
Or would have been. Any backward motion would have sent him out of the square he was currently in and that didn’t appear to be allowed by the physics of the game world. Instead, he did a kind of cartoon back flip on the spot.
Once again DaBigBoom was lying on his back and watching numbers float up into the darkness. At least this time it was a small number—a solitary four. Was that all? He felt considerably more beat up than someone who’d only lost four hit points. He picked himself back up.
“Mmm,” Fifi said. She looked down his body and smiled appreciatively.
He looked down and saw why. His clothes were fried, at least the ones around his crotch. The front of his trousers and the underpants beneath were gone, as was most of the bottom of his plain T-shirt. His exposed skin was marred with little smudges of black ash. None of his three jackets had lost so much as a stitch.
“Um . . .” DaBigBoom said, realising he was showing his todger off to a girl, an extremely hot girl. He knew she was a devil and made out of pixels besides, but that didn’t stop his face flaring bright red in embarrassment.
“Tut tut,” Fifi said. “You should be more careful about exposing your weak point like that.”
Weak point?
Fifi did a graceful pirouette on the spot and boom-boomed a hip at him, revealing a luscious peach of an arse. DaBigBoom was so busy looking at it he didn’t notice her tail whip around and plunge into his crotch like a striking snake.
He doubled up. Not because she’d hit him with any force, but in the automatic male response to objects being flung at his unprotected goolies.
His evasion attempt failed. The slimy flanges of her tail left sticky trails across his skin. It was rooting around in his crotch for something.
“Where are you?” Fifi said.
The snuffling orifice at the end of her fleshy tail found the end of his cock.
Oh no.
“Ah, there you are,” Fifi said.
The bulbous tip of her tail expanded. The end of DaBigBoom’s penis was sucked into the moist orifice.
No, no, no! he thought with horror.
He tried to pull away, but her tail had already vacuum-sealed itself to his groin. Its fleshy flanges were stuck fast to his skin and his todger—his lovely todger!—was all the way inside the bulbous jar at the end of it.
Fifi giggled at his futile attempts to escape her tail. “I have you now.”
The bulbous end swelled up and down like bellows. DaBigBoom doubled up again, but this time it was from unexpected pleasure.
Huh, that felt . . . pretty good.
The inside of her tail was slimy, but it was the good kind of slimy—moist, warm, tight, soft. Back in the real world Jackson wasn’t exactly the most sociable, but he wasn’t a complete stranger to sex, although he’d never experienced it without a condom. Was this what unprotected sex felt like? Her soft fleshy walls and warm juices squished around his member.
The bulbous jar slowly pulsed. Blood raced to DaBigBoom’s groin and his hard-on expanded within her tail until it was pushing back at the fleshy tissue wrapped all around him.
Fifi gave her sexy arse a little wiggle. DaBigBoom heard a strange gurgling sound. He didn’t have to ponder it for long before the bulbous end of her tail swelled up and filled with a warm, silky liquid. The jar contracted and DaBigBoom gasped as he felt warm fluids rush back and forth around his shaft. Her soft flesh pressed up all around his cock and gave it a teasing little tug.
What the hell kind of attack was this? DaBigBoom looked at the sultry form of the succubus. He could understand horny and frustrated game artists sneaking in a bit of fetish-bait for the lulz, but this was way beyond that. It felt like she was blowing him with her tail and that kind of shit only happened in the cheap and nasty hentai games.
Fifi’s full lips parted in a sexy pout. Her heavy breasts had fallen out of her skimpy bra. Her left hand was already at her nipple and pawing her soft pink flesh. Her other hand was down between her legs and rubbing her pussy through the thin black material of her panties.
Okay, they were definitely no longer in a children’s game, or in any game that could be stocked in a normal high-street store.
Again.
What was it with this crazy fucked-up world?
Not that DaBigBoom was complaining. The inside of her tail felt fucking incredible around his cock.
Fifi’s cheeks reddened. She closed her eyes and gave a series of little sexy gasps. The bulbous organ at the end of her tail began to pulsate faster and faster.
Oh fuck.
DaBigBoom closed his eyes and gave a little moan of his own. Her tail pulsed and sucked on his cock. He didn’t know what she was doing in there, but he definitely didn’t want her to stop. Her slick walls rubbed up and down his shaft, sliding on a sensual layer of warm, silky liquid. Soft flesh contracted and gently pumped his swollen glans. Like a kiss.
Fifi’s gasps grew louder and came more frequently. The pulsations of her tail speeded up to match. DaBigBoom was no longer doubled up but instead bent back the other way, teetering on unsteady legs with his crotch thrust out before him while Fifi’s tail-full-of-every-known-hooker’s-trick continued to work over his helpless manhood.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she squealed in delight.
Oh fuck. DaBigBoom couldn’t hold on any longer. His hips jerked forwards, driving him deeper into the moist, sticky flesh of her pulsing tail pot. His erection swelled and he ejaculated a tension-flattening glob of spunk right into her tail.
Fifi gave a long, contented sigh. Her tail continued to move around DaBigBoom’s cock, the motions slower and more deliberate now. She sucked on his spurting penis, gulped down his ejaculate and kept sucking until DaBigBoom’s pipes were well and truly drained. Then her tail detached with a wet shlup.
DaBigBoom rocked on his feet. His knees, his whole body felt like a wobbly plate of jelly. A ghostly red heart blossomed in the air between them, before floating up into the darkness.
Aw, how sweet, DaBigBoom thought.
Then he noticed the number, forty-four, floating up from him.
Fuck, it had been an attack after all. It had bashed forty-four off his unknown number of hit points.
It was worse than that.
The same number, but in green rather than white, was floating above Fifi’s head.
Fuck, the cheeky minx had sucked forty-four points right out of him and added it to her own hit points.
More importantly, DaBigBoom wondered how the fuck he was supposed to defeat her if every attack restored that much of her health. His crappy little broken bow certainly wasn’t going to cut it.
“Delicious,” Fifi said, running a tongue around her sensual red lips. She opened her eyes. “Oh, you’re still alive. How wonderful.”
DaBigBoom suspected her happiness at his still being alive was because it meant she could attack him again rather than any concern for his wellbeing.
“Hmm, I wonder.”
Fifi pulled down and stepped out of her panties. The game had definitely swerved off into X-rated territory. The hairless folds of her pussy were clearly visible to DaBigBoom, and anyone else that happened to be looking.
“Did they tell you how these coloured squares work?”
Fifi motioned to the ground around them. Most of the ground was grey apart from some squares that glowed with red, blue, green or yellow light.
“Nope. It never came up,” DaBigBoom said.
“How silly.” Fifi tsked. “How can anyone plan strategy without accounting for the Terra effect squares. Oh well. You see, the different colours grant different abilities. Some are negative—they lower attack or inflict damage. Others have positive effects.”
Stepping elegantly on her stiletto high heels, Fifi walked around him until she was standing on the red square adjacent to his.
“Now this square grants me two additional attacks,” Fifi said. Her eyes gleamed with lust.
Uh oh, DaBigBoom thought.
“Mmm, and I have just the attack I’d like to triple up on,” Fifi said.
She reached in and pulled DaBigBoom right to the boundary between their squares, close enough for her to embrace him if she wished.
DaBigBoom hoped his remaining life points were considerably higher than forty-four.
to be continued next week . . .
Monday, October 01, 2012
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World: 2-4 Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
The posting schedule is a little wonky at the moment as I've had a couple of hectic weeks with cars grinding to a halt and other real-life nuisances. This chapter/series has also proven to be a little chaotic, descending fully into farce and parody. I'm not sure where it will end up, but I'll stick with it just to get the damn thing out of my system. Fans of my darker work fear not, there should be a story more to your liking appearing fairly soon in Literotica's Halloween contest. (Maybe, it does feature a succubus-possessed sex doll after all)
Anyway. Without further ado, here's:
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World 2-4: Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
“Tubby isn’t the problem,” OldFart said. “He’s big and he’s got a lot of hit points, but none of his attacks does much damage. No, the real problem is her . . . the succubus.”
OldFart pointed down to a pathway that ran off to the right of the bridge. It wound between dead trees and under a broken archway. At the end of the path was—
DaBigBoom’s mouth dropped open.
Wow.
That was a hottie. A real, blazing hot, totally fuckable hottie. She looked like a porn star or glamour model in a Halloween Devil costume, what little of it there was. She looked a little like another Pihanga, but a Pihanga DaBigBoom didn’t want to throttle. There was a whole bunch of other things DaBigBoom would like to do to her instead, most of which were unprintable. Like Pihanga, the succubus had horns, wings and a tail, but unlike Pihanga everything was filled out and looked more . . . mature.
18-rated.
Especially her chest. She was amply filled out in the chest department.
Were those real? They couldn’t be real.
If he’d seen breasts like that on a real-life girl with a similarly slender figure, DaBigBoom would have snap-called them as artificial. The succubus was wearing a low-cut baroque bikini top that barely contained them. Her boobs had . . . bounce. She hovered a few inches off the ground, supported by languid flaps of her great bat wings. Her breasts bobbed with each down sweep.
“That’s how she gets you, mate,” OldFart said. “Hypnotises you with those puppies, and then . . .”
“She does things to you,” Looserbait said. He stared at the floor. “Naughty things.”
“Uh huh.” DaBigBoom wasn’t listening. His attention was focused on the way the shiny globes of her tits bounced and jiggled as she floated a few inches off the ground.
“Okay, listen up,” Pihanga ordered. “This is the plan. KwinnyBomb, you come with me. We’ll take out the guards to the left of the bridge. Schreck and the rest of the k’winny mob will charge the main gate and beat up Waldorf.”
That was the plan? Charge? All that drawing in the dirt and that was the best she could come up with. That was a stupid fucking plan, DaBigBoom thought.
“What about the succubus?” Bob asked.
“DaBigBoom will take care of that,” Pihanga said, again with the crafty gleam in her eye.
DaBigBoom looked at the succubus again. Or more particularly, at the way her breasts bounced up and down as she floated a few inches above the ground. He was down with that part of the plan.
“His is the second most important role,” Pihanga said.
“Because if the succubus gets out of that path she’ll cream us all,” Bob whispered to DaBigBoom.
“Fiore will go with him,” Pihanga continued.
DaBigBoom was still looking at the succubus’s bobbing boobs.
“Okay, go!” Pihanga ordered.
She entered the chequerboard at a glowing orange square and moved towards the gate. The guards watched her scamper towards them with bored expressions. They didn’t move out of the squares they were standing in. KwinnyBomb, cartwheels spinning, trundled after her. They moved four squares and stopped. Schreck followed next, with the rest of the k’winny mob fanning out behind him.
“This way,” Fiore said, making sure DaBigBoom entered the board through the orange square and then pulling him to the right.
She also walked four squares before stopping abruptly. DaBigBoom was about to walk past when she held out an arm and stopped him.
“Wait. We have to wait for our turn to come back around.”
Damn stupid computer game rules.
DaBigBoom looked at the succubus. She was really hot. And practically naked. Her hopelessly-skimpy frayed leather bra was matched by an equally skimpy pair of black panties. The tan expanse of her flat stomach was exposed as were most of her luscious thighs. In a perverse attempt to compensate for the acres of skin on display she wore long black gloves that went past her elbows and an equally long pair of kinky black boots that went up past her knees. DaBigBoom supposed baroque stiletto heels were less of an impracticality if the wearer never had to actually walk in them.
The succubus saw them coming and gave DaBigBoom a sultry smile. He smiled back and tipped her a saucy wink. The succubus pouted her full lips and blew DaBigBoom a steamy kiss. She placed hands underneath her considerable breasts and smooshed them together. DaBigBoom gulped.
Take care of her? Yes please.
“Stop flirting with the succubus,” Fiore said.
“Why? She’s not a hermaphrodite too, is she?” DaBigBoom asked. He looked down at the floating girl’s crotch for signs of a tell-tale bulge. All he saw was a rather obvious camel toe that reddened his cheeks.
“No, they’re just really . . . skanky,” Fiore said.
DaBigBoom was fine with skanky. He looked at the succubus’s teasing smile and bouncing tits. Especially this kind of skanky. The succubus stared at him, tossed back her flowing black hair and pulled a series of glamour model poses.
“True love must be pure,” Fiore said, “just like my love for Ruhara.”
She pulled out a scrap of paper and unfolded it to reveal a picture of a demon boy with a long flowing black cape. Other than the cape the boy was completely naked above the waist and his bare chest was totally exposed. He carried a sword that was bigger than him.
He also looked about twelve years old.
“He’s post game content for sure,” Fiore said. “We’ll defeat him, then he’ll join us, then he’ll be mine.”
She clutched the paper to her flat bosom and her face lit up in a way DaBigBoom thought was slightly disturbing.
“Pervert,” he muttered, before turning back to stare at the succubus’s bouncing titties.
“It’s us again,” Fiore said.
She took DaBigBoom’s arm and took them four squares closer to the broken archway at the head of the path. Another turn and they’d pass under it and be right before the waiting she-demon. That thought triggered a pleasant little throb in DaBigBoom’s groin.
“Launch k’winnies!” Pihanga yelled.
What the?
DaBigBoom turned around in time to see KwinnyBomb flying through the air in the direction of the guards to the left of the bridge.
“Mateeeeeeee!” KwinnyBomb yelled.
He landed on a square between two guards—skinny looking emo kids with pointed ears—and exploded.
The guards held up arms and grimaced. Thirty-four in white numbers floated up above their heads. When the cloud dissipated there was no sign of KwinnyBomb at all. He’d exploded. Like a grenade. Like . . .
. . . a KwinnyBomb.
DaBigBoom thought about the name Pihanga had given him.
He had a bad feeling about this.
Fiore had the build of a slim little teenage girl. Not the build of someone DaBigBoom would have thought capable of plucking him up off the ground and lifting him right above their head.
“Hey wait,” he said.
Fiore didn’t. She stretched her arms back and launched him the direction of the succubus with all the force she could muster.
Fuuuuck, DaBigBoom thought as he flew over the broken archway. The succubus already had her hands up in front of her face. Fiore had her eyes screwed shut and fingers in her ears.
DaBigBoom hit the ground at the feet of the succubus with a krump.
He didn’t explode.
This seemed to take everyone by surprise.
DaBigBoom awkwardly picked himself back up. The succubus floated in front of him. Her smile and the seductive gleam in her eyes—more lustful even than Fiore’s for her underage pin-up—had returned to her face.
“Um . . . hi,” DaBigBoom said.
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World 2 will continue next week, where I imagine things will get a lot more steamy. She has been waiting for four chapters after all . . .
Anyway. Without further ado, here's:
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World 2-4: Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
“Tubby isn’t the problem,” OldFart said. “He’s big and he’s got a lot of hit points, but none of his attacks does much damage. No, the real problem is her . . . the succubus.”
OldFart pointed down to a pathway that ran off to the right of the bridge. It wound between dead trees and under a broken archway. At the end of the path was—
DaBigBoom’s mouth dropped open.
Wow.
That was a hottie. A real, blazing hot, totally fuckable hottie. She looked like a porn star or glamour model in a Halloween Devil costume, what little of it there was. She looked a little like another Pihanga, but a Pihanga DaBigBoom didn’t want to throttle. There was a whole bunch of other things DaBigBoom would like to do to her instead, most of which were unprintable. Like Pihanga, the succubus had horns, wings and a tail, but unlike Pihanga everything was filled out and looked more . . . mature.
18-rated.
Especially her chest. She was amply filled out in the chest department.
Were those real? They couldn’t be real.
If he’d seen breasts like that on a real-life girl with a similarly slender figure, DaBigBoom would have snap-called them as artificial. The succubus was wearing a low-cut baroque bikini top that barely contained them. Her boobs had . . . bounce. She hovered a few inches off the ground, supported by languid flaps of her great bat wings. Her breasts bobbed with each down sweep.
“That’s how she gets you, mate,” OldFart said. “Hypnotises you with those puppies, and then . . .”
“She does things to you,” Looserbait said. He stared at the floor. “Naughty things.”
“Uh huh.” DaBigBoom wasn’t listening. His attention was focused on the way the shiny globes of her tits bounced and jiggled as she floated a few inches off the ground.
“Okay, listen up,” Pihanga ordered. “This is the plan. KwinnyBomb, you come with me. We’ll take out the guards to the left of the bridge. Schreck and the rest of the k’winny mob will charge the main gate and beat up Waldorf.”
That was the plan? Charge? All that drawing in the dirt and that was the best she could come up with. That was a stupid fucking plan, DaBigBoom thought.
“What about the succubus?” Bob asked.
“DaBigBoom will take care of that,” Pihanga said, again with the crafty gleam in her eye.
DaBigBoom looked at the succubus again. Or more particularly, at the way her breasts bounced up and down as she floated a few inches above the ground. He was down with that part of the plan.
“His is the second most important role,” Pihanga said.
“Because if the succubus gets out of that path she’ll cream us all,” Bob whispered to DaBigBoom.
“Fiore will go with him,” Pihanga continued.
DaBigBoom was still looking at the succubus’s bobbing boobs.
“Okay, go!” Pihanga ordered.
She entered the chequerboard at a glowing orange square and moved towards the gate. The guards watched her scamper towards them with bored expressions. They didn’t move out of the squares they were standing in. KwinnyBomb, cartwheels spinning, trundled after her. They moved four squares and stopped. Schreck followed next, with the rest of the k’winny mob fanning out behind him.
“This way,” Fiore said, making sure DaBigBoom entered the board through the orange square and then pulling him to the right.
She also walked four squares before stopping abruptly. DaBigBoom was about to walk past when she held out an arm and stopped him.
“Wait. We have to wait for our turn to come back around.”
Damn stupid computer game rules.
DaBigBoom looked at the succubus. She was really hot. And practically naked. Her hopelessly-skimpy frayed leather bra was matched by an equally skimpy pair of black panties. The tan expanse of her flat stomach was exposed as were most of her luscious thighs. In a perverse attempt to compensate for the acres of skin on display she wore long black gloves that went past her elbows and an equally long pair of kinky black boots that went up past her knees. DaBigBoom supposed baroque stiletto heels were less of an impracticality if the wearer never had to actually walk in them.
The succubus saw them coming and gave DaBigBoom a sultry smile. He smiled back and tipped her a saucy wink. The succubus pouted her full lips and blew DaBigBoom a steamy kiss. She placed hands underneath her considerable breasts and smooshed them together. DaBigBoom gulped.
Take care of her? Yes please.
“Stop flirting with the succubus,” Fiore said.
“Why? She’s not a hermaphrodite too, is she?” DaBigBoom asked. He looked down at the floating girl’s crotch for signs of a tell-tale bulge. All he saw was a rather obvious camel toe that reddened his cheeks.
“No, they’re just really . . . skanky,” Fiore said.
DaBigBoom was fine with skanky. He looked at the succubus’s teasing smile and bouncing tits. Especially this kind of skanky. The succubus stared at him, tossed back her flowing black hair and pulled a series of glamour model poses.
“True love must be pure,” Fiore said, “just like my love for Ruhara.”
She pulled out a scrap of paper and unfolded it to reveal a picture of a demon boy with a long flowing black cape. Other than the cape the boy was completely naked above the waist and his bare chest was totally exposed. He carried a sword that was bigger than him.
He also looked about twelve years old.
“He’s post game content for sure,” Fiore said. “We’ll defeat him, then he’ll join us, then he’ll be mine.”
She clutched the paper to her flat bosom and her face lit up in a way DaBigBoom thought was slightly disturbing.
“Pervert,” he muttered, before turning back to stare at the succubus’s bouncing titties.
“It’s us again,” Fiore said.
She took DaBigBoom’s arm and took them four squares closer to the broken archway at the head of the path. Another turn and they’d pass under it and be right before the waiting she-demon. That thought triggered a pleasant little throb in DaBigBoom’s groin.
“Launch k’winnies!” Pihanga yelled.
What the?
DaBigBoom turned around in time to see KwinnyBomb flying through the air in the direction of the guards to the left of the bridge.
“Mateeeeeeee!” KwinnyBomb yelled.
He landed on a square between two guards—skinny looking emo kids with pointed ears—and exploded.
The guards held up arms and grimaced. Thirty-four in white numbers floated up above their heads. When the cloud dissipated there was no sign of KwinnyBomb at all. He’d exploded. Like a grenade. Like . . .
. . . a KwinnyBomb.
DaBigBoom thought about the name Pihanga had given him.
He had a bad feeling about this.
Fiore had the build of a slim little teenage girl. Not the build of someone DaBigBoom would have thought capable of plucking him up off the ground and lifting him right above their head.
“Hey wait,” he said.
Fiore didn’t. She stretched her arms back and launched him the direction of the succubus with all the force she could muster.
Fuuuuck, DaBigBoom thought as he flew over the broken archway. The succubus already had her hands up in front of her face. Fiore had her eyes screwed shut and fingers in her ears.
DaBigBoom hit the ground at the feet of the succubus with a krump.
He didn’t explode.
This seemed to take everyone by surprise.
DaBigBoom awkwardly picked himself back up. The succubus floated in front of him. Her smile and the seductive gleam in her eyes—more lustful even than Fiore’s for her underage pin-up—had returned to her face.
“Um . . . hi,” DaBigBoom said.
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World 2 will continue next week, where I imagine things will get a lot more steamy. She has been waiting for four chapters after all . . .
Sunday, September 23, 2012
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World: 2-3 Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
After a slight pause where I was away last week, here's the third part of Jackson DaBigBoom in HRPG-World 2. Chaos rules. Attempting to parody something that was already a fairly wicked parody in the first place might not have been my best idea. Oh well, let's see where it goes. Hopefully sombody sexy will show up at some point to make up for the anarchy and weirdness at the beginning.
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World 2-3: Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
The blonde looked at him. A puzzled expression was back on her face.
“Hey wait!” she said. “You’re the—”
Too late. DaBigBoom had already stepped into the portal.
They warped to a rocky location that somehow managed to look cheerful despite being largely desolate. The only plants DaBigBoom saw were the twisted remnants of dead trees.
Not quite dead, as it happened, but not exactly alive in any way DaBigBoom expected. He watched as one of the dead stumps grew spindly arms out of its top and began to shuffle around. Pihanga absent-mindedly booted it into a nearby pool of bright green acid. She took out a telescope and surveyed their objective from behind a boulder.
Before them a wide bridge led to an enormous gate at the entrance of a cartoon-scary castle carved into the high stone wall of a cliff. The gate looked like an enormous mouth and two openings above it looked like burning eyes. It still looked about as scary as a Scooby Doo cartoon.
The oddest thing to DaBigBoom was the ground. It was marked out with squares like a giant chessboard. The pattern covered most of the grounds leading up to the bridge and continued right into the fort. Some of the squares glowed with a strange light and that same glow lit up odd pyramid sculptures scattered throughout the grounds. DaBigBoom thought they must serve some purpose within the game although he didn’t have the slightest idea what.
There were guards—more of the strange pointy-eared inhabitants he’d seen walking around back at the castle. They grumbled and fidgeted, but didn’t leave the squares they were standing in, even though most of the positions they occupied seemed to serve no strategic purpose.
“Okay, equipment,” Pihanga said.
From somewhere, DaBigBoom had no idea where, she pulled out a sack of gear that was bigger than her, Schreck and Fiore combined.
Computer RPG physics, no point in being surprised, DaBigBoom thought.
“You.” She beckoned to DaBigBoom. “Time to equip you. The high HP gear I think.” There was a gleam in Pihanga’s eye DaBigBoom didn’t like at all.
She threw him a flak jacket that looked more suited to a cop game. DaBigBoom had no idea what it was doing in a fantasy RPG, but it was armour and DaBigBoom would take any kind of protection. He put it on.
It also wasn’t the only jacket as Pihanga passed him a second and then a third jacket largely identical to the first.
“Um, I already have a jacket,” DaBigBoom said.
Pihanga ignored him. So did the world. Before he even realised it, he was wearing all three jackets on top of each other. They were uncomfortably warm and DaBigBoom could barely move his arms. How was he supposed to fight like this?
“Perfect,” Pihanga said. “Lots of HP.”
Once again, DaBigBoom really didn’t like the gleam in Pihanga’s eye whenever she mentioned ‘HP’.
DaBigBoom felt something rather important had been neglected in the equipping process.
“Aren’t I supposed to have something to fight with?” he asked.
“Fight?” Pihanga seemed surprised by the question, as if it wasn’t really relevant. “Oh, take this.”
She rummaged through the sack and came back with a bow so tiny it’d struggle to make even a child’s toy. DaBigBoom held the undersized bow in his hands. Now what the fuck was he supposed to do with this?
Pihanga turned her back and went back to observing the fort. She turned around and began to draw lines in the ground. She studied them with wrinkled-brow concentration while Schreck watched and gave the occasional nod of his head. Fiore crouched down and watched Pihanga draw her plans, but didn’t contribute anything other than the occasional giggle.
“You got a bum assignment, mate,” one of the k’winnies, a real battered specimen, said to DaBigBoom. “She doesn’t have the first clue about tactics. She should have hired a warrior, mage and cleric by now. Instead she just keeps throwing us k’winnies into the fray as if it’s still the first level. It’s hopeless, mate. I’m OldFart,” the beat-up k’winnie introduced itself.
“DaBigBoom,” DaBigBoom replied and then grimaced as he realised that stupid name had slipped out of his mouth again instead of his real name.
OldFart nodded sympathetically.
He introduced the other k’winnines. “This is Assploder, KwinnyBomb, ShitBlast, Bob—”
“Bob?” DaBigBoom interrupted.
“She hit Enter too quickly on the naming screen, mate,” Bob explained, “and she hasn’t figured out yet how to rename characters.”
“LooserBait,” OldFart finished the introductions, pointing to the last k’winny, who was missing an eye.
“So what’s the objective?” DaBigBoom asked. If they could complete the mission maybe he could get the fuck out of here.
“Waldorf, mate,” OldFart said. “The big pile of blubber over there.”
DaBigBoom followed OldFart’s malformed limb and saw a gigantic blue thing just inside the entrance. It was a big pile of blubber—Jabba the Hut with a pair of tusks. The thing looked so cumbersome DaBigBoom had no idea how it even moved until he noticed the cord around its midriff that led up to a large balloon with a cartoon cat face on the side of it. DaBigBoom raised an eyebrow.
“What, the walrus?” he said.
“Leopard seal,” Fiore corrected. Bored with Pihanga’s battle planning, she’d come over to join them. “It’s a leopard seal, not a walrus.” She grinned.
“So the objective is to storm a fortress and kill a wal . . . leopard seal with a giant balloon tied to its arse?” DaBigBoom queried.
Fiore nodded. “Exciting, isn’t it.”
DaBigBoom wanted out of this stupid game.
“And you guys are happy with this?” DaBigBoom asked.
“Fuck yeah,” Assploder said.
“Waldorf’s a cunt,” Bob said.
“We want the bastard dead,” KwinnyBomb said.
“He kidnaps k’winnies and sells them as toys to children in the human world,” LooserBait said.
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Fiore said.
The k’winnies stared at the angel with stunned expressions. They obviously regarded being sold to children as a fate worse than death.
“Human children are sweet and adorable,” Fiore said. “Especially the boys.” She stared off into space. “Delicious, scrumptious, cute young boys.” There was a gleam in her eyes that was most un-angelic.
The k’winnies shook their heads. “Pervert,” Bob muttered under his breath.
“Tubby isn’t the problem,” OldFart said. “He’s big and he’s got a lot of hit points, but none of his attacks does much damage. No, the real problem is her . . . the succubus.”
OldFart pointed down to a pathway that ran off to the right of the bridge. It wound between dead trees and under a broken archway. At the end of the path was—
DaBigBoom’s mouth dropped open.
Wow.
Oh hello, somebody sexy. Come back next week to see if she gets a chance to strut her stuff as I try and get this anarchic beastie back under control.
DaBigBoom in HRPG-World 2-3: Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
The blonde looked at him. A puzzled expression was back on her face.
“Hey wait!” she said. “You’re the—”
Too late. DaBigBoom had already stepped into the portal.
They warped to a rocky location that somehow managed to look cheerful despite being largely desolate. The only plants DaBigBoom saw were the twisted remnants of dead trees.
Not quite dead, as it happened, but not exactly alive in any way DaBigBoom expected. He watched as one of the dead stumps grew spindly arms out of its top and began to shuffle around. Pihanga absent-mindedly booted it into a nearby pool of bright green acid. She took out a telescope and surveyed their objective from behind a boulder.
Before them a wide bridge led to an enormous gate at the entrance of a cartoon-scary castle carved into the high stone wall of a cliff. The gate looked like an enormous mouth and two openings above it looked like burning eyes. It still looked about as scary as a Scooby Doo cartoon.
The oddest thing to DaBigBoom was the ground. It was marked out with squares like a giant chessboard. The pattern covered most of the grounds leading up to the bridge and continued right into the fort. Some of the squares glowed with a strange light and that same glow lit up odd pyramid sculptures scattered throughout the grounds. DaBigBoom thought they must serve some purpose within the game although he didn’t have the slightest idea what.
There were guards—more of the strange pointy-eared inhabitants he’d seen walking around back at the castle. They grumbled and fidgeted, but didn’t leave the squares they were standing in, even though most of the positions they occupied seemed to serve no strategic purpose.
“Okay, equipment,” Pihanga said.
From somewhere, DaBigBoom had no idea where, she pulled out a sack of gear that was bigger than her, Schreck and Fiore combined.
Computer RPG physics, no point in being surprised, DaBigBoom thought.
“You.” She beckoned to DaBigBoom. “Time to equip you. The high HP gear I think.” There was a gleam in Pihanga’s eye DaBigBoom didn’t like at all.
She threw him a flak jacket that looked more suited to a cop game. DaBigBoom had no idea what it was doing in a fantasy RPG, but it was armour and DaBigBoom would take any kind of protection. He put it on.
It also wasn’t the only jacket as Pihanga passed him a second and then a third jacket largely identical to the first.
“Um, I already have a jacket,” DaBigBoom said.
Pihanga ignored him. So did the world. Before he even realised it, he was wearing all three jackets on top of each other. They were uncomfortably warm and DaBigBoom could barely move his arms. How was he supposed to fight like this?
“Perfect,” Pihanga said. “Lots of HP.”
Once again, DaBigBoom really didn’t like the gleam in Pihanga’s eye whenever she mentioned ‘HP’.
DaBigBoom felt something rather important had been neglected in the equipping process.
“Aren’t I supposed to have something to fight with?” he asked.
“Fight?” Pihanga seemed surprised by the question, as if it wasn’t really relevant. “Oh, take this.”
She rummaged through the sack and came back with a bow so tiny it’d struggle to make even a child’s toy. DaBigBoom held the undersized bow in his hands. Now what the fuck was he supposed to do with this?
Pihanga turned her back and went back to observing the fort. She turned around and began to draw lines in the ground. She studied them with wrinkled-brow concentration while Schreck watched and gave the occasional nod of his head. Fiore crouched down and watched Pihanga draw her plans, but didn’t contribute anything other than the occasional giggle.
“You got a bum assignment, mate,” one of the k’winnies, a real battered specimen, said to DaBigBoom. “She doesn’t have the first clue about tactics. She should have hired a warrior, mage and cleric by now. Instead she just keeps throwing us k’winnies into the fray as if it’s still the first level. It’s hopeless, mate. I’m OldFart,” the beat-up k’winnie introduced itself.
“DaBigBoom,” DaBigBoom replied and then grimaced as he realised that stupid name had slipped out of his mouth again instead of his real name.
OldFart nodded sympathetically.
He introduced the other k’winnines. “This is Assploder, KwinnyBomb, ShitBlast, Bob—”
“Bob?” DaBigBoom interrupted.
“She hit Enter too quickly on the naming screen, mate,” Bob explained, “and she hasn’t figured out yet how to rename characters.”
“LooserBait,” OldFart finished the introductions, pointing to the last k’winny, who was missing an eye.
“So what’s the objective?” DaBigBoom asked. If they could complete the mission maybe he could get the fuck out of here.
“Waldorf, mate,” OldFart said. “The big pile of blubber over there.”
DaBigBoom followed OldFart’s malformed limb and saw a gigantic blue thing just inside the entrance. It was a big pile of blubber—Jabba the Hut with a pair of tusks. The thing looked so cumbersome DaBigBoom had no idea how it even moved until he noticed the cord around its midriff that led up to a large balloon with a cartoon cat face on the side of it. DaBigBoom raised an eyebrow.
“What, the walrus?” he said.
“Leopard seal,” Fiore corrected. Bored with Pihanga’s battle planning, she’d come over to join them. “It’s a leopard seal, not a walrus.” She grinned.
“So the objective is to storm a fortress and kill a wal . . . leopard seal with a giant balloon tied to its arse?” DaBigBoom queried.
Fiore nodded. “Exciting, isn’t it.”
DaBigBoom wanted out of this stupid game.
“And you guys are happy with this?” DaBigBoom asked.
“Fuck yeah,” Assploder said.
“Waldorf’s a cunt,” Bob said.
“We want the bastard dead,” KwinnyBomb said.
“He kidnaps k’winnies and sells them as toys to children in the human world,” LooserBait said.
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Fiore said.
The k’winnies stared at the angel with stunned expressions. They obviously regarded being sold to children as a fate worse than death.
“Human children are sweet and adorable,” Fiore said. “Especially the boys.” She stared off into space. “Delicious, scrumptious, cute young boys.” There was a gleam in her eyes that was most un-angelic.
The k’winnies shook their heads. “Pervert,” Bob muttered under his breath.
“Tubby isn’t the problem,” OldFart said. “He’s big and he’s got a lot of hit points, but none of his attacks does much damage. No, the real problem is her . . . the succubus.”
OldFart pointed down to a pathway that ran off to the right of the bridge. It wound between dead trees and under a broken archway. At the end of the path was—
DaBigBoom’s mouth dropped open.
Wow.
Oh hello, somebody sexy. Come back next week to see if she gets a chance to strut her stuff as I try and get this anarchic beastie back under control.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Jackson in HRPG-World: 2-2 Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
And a little later than initially planned (the real-life 9-to-5 clobbered me with some things that needed fixing over the weekend), here is the second part of Jackson in HRPG-World 2:
Jackson in HRPG-World 2-2: Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
“Come with me, k’winny,” the stroppy little devil girl ordered.
“Fuck off,” Jackson retorted.
Pihanga pulled out a gun and shot him in the face.
From his position on the floor of the factory Jackson looked up and saw a white number—forty-four—floating up into the darkness beneath the roof. Oh yeah, computer game physics. Boy was he glad for those stupid role-playing game physics. It meant he could be shot right in the face with a gun and it do nothing so long as the damage was less than his total hit points.
He wondered how many hit points he had. Normally he was able to see his full status. Not here for some reason. Maybe this was some kind of intro and the game hadn’t actually started yet.
He got back up to his feet.
Schreck stared at him with his blank fish eyes opened wide. The angel girl had hands on her cheeks. Pihanga was turning her gun over in her hands with a puzzled expression on her face.
“One shot is normally enough to kill a level one k’winny,” she said, looking at her gun suspiciously.
“He doeth theem rather hardy for a k’winny, mithtreth,” Schreck said. “Are you thure—”
“He’s an uber k’winny!” the angel said. She bounced with excitement like a tween standing in line for a Justin Bieber signing. “I told you they had a sixth rank.”
Schreck looked up at the numbers floating away into the darkness of the ceiling. “It doeth theem to potheth an unusually high number of hit pointh.”
At the mention of ‘unusually high number of hit points,’ Pihanga’s pointed ears pricked up and she switched her attentions from the gun to Jackson. Her eyes lit up and her lips curled up in a crafty smile. “High hit points . . .”
She skipped forwards.
“I’m Pihanga, Empress of Elegance and Overlord-to-be of all the Nether Regions. You’ll be a perfect addition to my k’winny mob.”
“Uh . . . okay,” Jackson said.
He didn’t want to test if he had enough hit points to survive a second shot from her gun.
“Good.” Pihanga turned to the side and a giant ghostly blue keypad appeared before her out of thin air. “Now to name you.”
“Um. Actually, I already have a name,” Jackson said.
Pihanga ignored him and tapped keys on the ghostly floating blue keypad. D, a, B, i, g, B . . . Jackson saw letters appear above the keypad.
“There. Perfect,” Pihanga said.
DaBigBoom? What kind of stupid name was DaBigBoom? Only an eight-year-old could come up with a character name as stupid as that.
“Hey. I have a name. I’m—”
Pihanga moved her hand to the bottom right of the screen and tapped the enter button.
“—DaBigBoom,” DaBigBoom finished.
He paused. Wait, that wasn’t right. His name was DaBigBoom not DaBigBoom.
Huh?
No. His. Name. Was. DaBigBoom.
DaBigBoom tried again, but every time he thought of his name, DaBigBoom came up instead of DaBigBoom.
This sucks, DaBigBoom thought.
“Come along, DaBigBoom,” Pihanga said. “We have the Nether Regions to conquer.”
“And then it’s the Post Game content,” the angel said, jumping up and down with girlish excitement.
DaBigBoom looked at them—the trashy devil girl, the blue-haired angel, and the cartoon Nosferatu caricature. What kind of insane game had he fallen into? Shaking his head, he followed them out of the factory.
He walked out onto a landscape somewhere between Burton and Bosch. A spooky castle with spires sticking out at odd angles pierced the sky. Scattered around them were vast lakes of molten orange lava.
“Where are we?” DaBigBoom asked.
“These are the Nether Regions, home to demons, monsters and k’winnies containing the souls of mortals that sinned during their lives in the Living World,” the angel said.
“So hell, basically,” DaBigBoom said. “Hey, what was that about k’winnies?”
“Anyone who sinned during their life is reincarnated in the form of a k’winny. They must work off the debt their sinning incurred during their life before they can be reincarnated back to the Living World. In heaven we set them all kinds of boring tasks to do. In the Nether Regions it’s much better. They get to fight for the glory of the Overlord!” The angel finished with a rousing flourish.
DaBigBoom looked at her fluffy white wings and white robes. “Heaven? Are you an angel?”
“Trainee,” the girl said. “I’m Angel Student Fiore. Or was,” she said, her nose wrinkling into a grimace. “They kicked me out for downloading shota porn.”
Her breezy smile returned.
“I don’t mind. It’s far more exciting down here. We get to go on missions and kill people.”
DaBigBoom didn’t know what to say to that.
They walked into the castle and DaBigBoom was surrounded by a motley collection of monsters—rotting zombies, hunched over dragons shuffling on their hind legs, lions with scorpion tails and even girls standing inside giant roses. It was odd, weird, but not very scary. More Jim Henson than Nightmare on Elm Street.
The girls in the roses were also kinda hot and not wearing much more than a few strategically positioned bits of foliage. One of them winked at DaBigBoom and blew him a kiss.
“They’re hermaphrodites,” Fiore whispered in his ear.
DaBigBoom’s hand froze mid-wave.
“I’m not sure what they’re doing here either. They’re not supposed to appear until the sequels,” Fiore continued, making absolutely no sense again.
Pihanga made her way to the main hall. A spear stood in the centre of room. At first DaBigBoom thought there was a severed, moustachioed head impaled on the spear. Impaled so hard the point came right out of the top of the skull. The head seemed surprisingly well preserved. Then Pihanga picked the spear up, the head’s eyes flicked open and DaBigBoom realised the head was actually part of the spear itself.
“Hey, unhand me!” the spear complained in a prissy voice.
Piihanga ignored it and tapped the shaft loudly on the stone floor. “Subjects!” she called out. “The throne of the Overlord will soon be mine. Join me and share in the glory!”
The weird inhabitants ignored her and carried on with what they were doing.
“Join me for a share of the loot?” Pihanga tried again.
That got the attention of some of the inhabitants, but only briefly before they waved their hands dismissively at her and walked away laughing.
Pihanga’s nostrils flared. She looked like a teenage girl in a strop because her parents wouldn’t let her go to the party.
“K’WINNY MOB!” she bellowed, banging the butt of the spear so hard onto the ground the moustachioed head complained in a camp whine.
A motley crew of yellow bird-doll-things emerged, grumbling, from the shadows. They looked even worse for wear than the Frankenstein’s abominations DaBigBoom had seen on the factory conveyer belt. They looked like they’d been repeatedly torn apart and then stitched back up again by someone with only a passing familiarity with what they’d originally looked like.
“We’re going to take on Cook Canyon again, and this time I want 150 percent.”
The k’winnies collectively groaned.
“We need more soldiers, mate,” one of them griped.
“We have more soldiers,” Pihanga said. “This is Private DaBigBoom.”
The k’winnies looked at DaBigBoom and for a moment their grumbling was silenced.
“Is he a player?” one whispered.
“What was that!” Pihanga said.
The offending k’winny gave an eep. They all shuffled backwards.
“I’m the player,” Pihanga said. “I’m the main character. This is my game. I’m the star. Me. Me alone. Pihanga, the Empress of Elegance and Overlord-to-be.”
She swung the spear like a golf club and the quavering k’winny vanished up over one of the balconies with a plaintive wail.
“Now we’re back down to the same number of soldiers as before, mate,” another of the k’winnies muttered, this time quiet enough for Pihanga not to hear.
“Follow me!” Pihanga ordered. “This time we will beat that level.”
“She’s not really the main character,” Fiore whispered to DaBigBoom after Pihanga had marched in the direction of one of the side exits. “It’s me.” She gave a girlish giggle and followed Pihanga.
Madhouse, DaBigBoom thought, shaking his head as he followed the others.
They walked through a crazy marketplace. Skinny kids with anime-spiky hair sold swords that were far too large and impractical for any normal—or even large—person to wield. DaBigBoom saw the entrance to a tent with a bleeding red cross stitched above the opening. Moans and groans emanated from within. A cute girl in some kind of traditional Japanese dress stood in the entrance and smiled at DaBigBoom. As he walked by he saw she was holding a hacksaw with clumps of hair and flesh stuck to the serrated blade.
They reached a short staircase that led up to a bright blue swirl of light about as big as a door. More computer game physics. DaBigBoom assumed it was some kind of portal that led somewhere else. Standing next to the portal was a gorgeous blonde girl with elf ears sticking out of her long hair. She held a gnarled wooden staff and wore flowing green robes. She looked bored.
Pihanga walked up to the foot of the steps. “Cook Canyon,” she said.
“Again?” the blonde girl said.
“We’re going to defeat Waldorf this time,” Pihanga said.
“You said that last time,” the blonde said, “and the time before that, and the time before that, and the thirteen other times before that.”
“My k’winny mob has increased in experience,” Pihanga said.
“Your k’winny mob is falling to bits,” the blonde said.
Pihanga gave her a crafty smile. “Ah, but this time I have a secret weapon,” she motioned to DaBigBoom.
The blonde peered at DaBigBoom. For a moment her brow furrowed as though she wasn’t quite sure of what she was looking at, and then she spotted the yellow hat and gave a disappointed sigh.
“It’s just another k’winny,” she said. “You need to recruit some proper monsters with classes. You can’t expect to beat the middle levels with only k’winnies.”
“K’winnies are cheap and easy to maintain,” Pihanga said.
“K’winnies are useless.”
The k’winnies quarked and harrumphed their disapproval.
“Do as you’re ordered and send us to Cook Canyon,” Pihanga said.
The blonde sighed. She waved her staff and the portal flared a brighter blue colour. “As you command, oh great and powerful Overlord . . .” Pihanga walked up the steps and jumped into the swirling blue vortex. “. . . to-never-be,” the blonde finished as Pihanga vanished from view.
Fiore and the vampire, Schreck, went next, followed by the battered k’winnies. DaBigBoom considered running off in the opposite direction, but that might mean he’d be stuck in this lunatic role-playing game forever . . . as DaBigBoom.
Fuck it. The quicker he completed it, the quicker he could get the fuck out of here. He walked up the steps.
The blonde looked at him. A puzzled expression was back on her face.
“Hey wait!” she said. “You’re the—”
Too late. DaBigBoom had already stepped into the portal.
I knew I should have left that game alone. What's happening? They've usurped my main character and changed his name. Isn't there supposed to be some pr0n somewhere?
Come back next week for part 3 (there may be some sex somewhere - I hope!)
Jackson in HRPG-World 2-2: Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
“Come with me, k’winny,” the stroppy little devil girl ordered.
“Fuck off,” Jackson retorted.
Pihanga pulled out a gun and shot him in the face.
From his position on the floor of the factory Jackson looked up and saw a white number—forty-four—floating up into the darkness beneath the roof. Oh yeah, computer game physics. Boy was he glad for those stupid role-playing game physics. It meant he could be shot right in the face with a gun and it do nothing so long as the damage was less than his total hit points.
He wondered how many hit points he had. Normally he was able to see his full status. Not here for some reason. Maybe this was some kind of intro and the game hadn’t actually started yet.
He got back up to his feet.
Schreck stared at him with his blank fish eyes opened wide. The angel girl had hands on her cheeks. Pihanga was turning her gun over in her hands with a puzzled expression on her face.
“One shot is normally enough to kill a level one k’winny,” she said, looking at her gun suspiciously.
“He doeth theem rather hardy for a k’winny, mithtreth,” Schreck said. “Are you thure—”
“He’s an uber k’winny!” the angel said. She bounced with excitement like a tween standing in line for a Justin Bieber signing. “I told you they had a sixth rank.”
Schreck looked up at the numbers floating away into the darkness of the ceiling. “It doeth theem to potheth an unusually high number of hit pointh.”
At the mention of ‘unusually high number of hit points,’ Pihanga’s pointed ears pricked up and she switched her attentions from the gun to Jackson. Her eyes lit up and her lips curled up in a crafty smile. “High hit points . . .”
She skipped forwards.
“I’m Pihanga, Empress of Elegance and Overlord-to-be of all the Nether Regions. You’ll be a perfect addition to my k’winny mob.”
“Uh . . . okay,” Jackson said.
He didn’t want to test if he had enough hit points to survive a second shot from her gun.
“Good.” Pihanga turned to the side and a giant ghostly blue keypad appeared before her out of thin air. “Now to name you.”
“Um. Actually, I already have a name,” Jackson said.
Pihanga ignored him and tapped keys on the ghostly floating blue keypad. D, a, B, i, g, B . . . Jackson saw letters appear above the keypad.
“There. Perfect,” Pihanga said.
DaBigBoom? What kind of stupid name was DaBigBoom? Only an eight-year-old could come up with a character name as stupid as that.
“Hey. I have a name. I’m—”
Pihanga moved her hand to the bottom right of the screen and tapped the enter button.
“—DaBigBoom,” DaBigBoom finished.
He paused. Wait, that wasn’t right. His name was DaBigBoom not DaBigBoom.
Huh?
No. His. Name. Was. DaBigBoom.
DaBigBoom tried again, but every time he thought of his name, DaBigBoom came up instead of DaBigBoom.
This sucks, DaBigBoom thought.
“Come along, DaBigBoom,” Pihanga said. “We have the Nether Regions to conquer.”
“And then it’s the Post Game content,” the angel said, jumping up and down with girlish excitement.
DaBigBoom looked at them—the trashy devil girl, the blue-haired angel, and the cartoon Nosferatu caricature. What kind of insane game had he fallen into? Shaking his head, he followed them out of the factory.
He walked out onto a landscape somewhere between Burton and Bosch. A spooky castle with spires sticking out at odd angles pierced the sky. Scattered around them were vast lakes of molten orange lava.
“Where are we?” DaBigBoom asked.
“These are the Nether Regions, home to demons, monsters and k’winnies containing the souls of mortals that sinned during their lives in the Living World,” the angel said.
“So hell, basically,” DaBigBoom said. “Hey, what was that about k’winnies?”
“Anyone who sinned during their life is reincarnated in the form of a k’winny. They must work off the debt their sinning incurred during their life before they can be reincarnated back to the Living World. In heaven we set them all kinds of boring tasks to do. In the Nether Regions it’s much better. They get to fight for the glory of the Overlord!” The angel finished with a rousing flourish.
DaBigBoom looked at her fluffy white wings and white robes. “Heaven? Are you an angel?”
“Trainee,” the girl said. “I’m Angel Student Fiore. Or was,” she said, her nose wrinkling into a grimace. “They kicked me out for downloading shota porn.”
Her breezy smile returned.
“I don’t mind. It’s far more exciting down here. We get to go on missions and kill people.”
DaBigBoom didn’t know what to say to that.
They walked into the castle and DaBigBoom was surrounded by a motley collection of monsters—rotting zombies, hunched over dragons shuffling on their hind legs, lions with scorpion tails and even girls standing inside giant roses. It was odd, weird, but not very scary. More Jim Henson than Nightmare on Elm Street.
The girls in the roses were also kinda hot and not wearing much more than a few strategically positioned bits of foliage. One of them winked at DaBigBoom and blew him a kiss.
“They’re hermaphrodites,” Fiore whispered in his ear.
DaBigBoom’s hand froze mid-wave.
“I’m not sure what they’re doing here either. They’re not supposed to appear until the sequels,” Fiore continued, making absolutely no sense again.
Pihanga made her way to the main hall. A spear stood in the centre of room. At first DaBigBoom thought there was a severed, moustachioed head impaled on the spear. Impaled so hard the point came right out of the top of the skull. The head seemed surprisingly well preserved. Then Pihanga picked the spear up, the head’s eyes flicked open and DaBigBoom realised the head was actually part of the spear itself.
“Hey, unhand me!” the spear complained in a prissy voice.
Piihanga ignored it and tapped the shaft loudly on the stone floor. “Subjects!” she called out. “The throne of the Overlord will soon be mine. Join me and share in the glory!”
The weird inhabitants ignored her and carried on with what they were doing.
“Join me for a share of the loot?” Pihanga tried again.
That got the attention of some of the inhabitants, but only briefly before they waved their hands dismissively at her and walked away laughing.
Pihanga’s nostrils flared. She looked like a teenage girl in a strop because her parents wouldn’t let her go to the party.
“K’WINNY MOB!” she bellowed, banging the butt of the spear so hard onto the ground the moustachioed head complained in a camp whine.
A motley crew of yellow bird-doll-things emerged, grumbling, from the shadows. They looked even worse for wear than the Frankenstein’s abominations DaBigBoom had seen on the factory conveyer belt. They looked like they’d been repeatedly torn apart and then stitched back up again by someone with only a passing familiarity with what they’d originally looked like.
“We’re going to take on Cook Canyon again, and this time I want 150 percent.”
The k’winnies collectively groaned.
“We need more soldiers, mate,” one of them griped.
“We have more soldiers,” Pihanga said. “This is Private DaBigBoom.”
The k’winnies looked at DaBigBoom and for a moment their grumbling was silenced.
“Is he a player?” one whispered.
“What was that!” Pihanga said.
The offending k’winny gave an eep. They all shuffled backwards.
“I’m the player,” Pihanga said. “I’m the main character. This is my game. I’m the star. Me. Me alone. Pihanga, the Empress of Elegance and Overlord-to-be.”
She swung the spear like a golf club and the quavering k’winny vanished up over one of the balconies with a plaintive wail.
“Now we’re back down to the same number of soldiers as before, mate,” another of the k’winnies muttered, this time quiet enough for Pihanga not to hear.
“Follow me!” Pihanga ordered. “This time we will beat that level.”
“She’s not really the main character,” Fiore whispered to DaBigBoom after Pihanga had marched in the direction of one of the side exits. “It’s me.” She gave a girlish giggle and followed Pihanga.
Madhouse, DaBigBoom thought, shaking his head as he followed the others.
They walked through a crazy marketplace. Skinny kids with anime-spiky hair sold swords that were far too large and impractical for any normal—or even large—person to wield. DaBigBoom saw the entrance to a tent with a bleeding red cross stitched above the opening. Moans and groans emanated from within. A cute girl in some kind of traditional Japanese dress stood in the entrance and smiled at DaBigBoom. As he walked by he saw she was holding a hacksaw with clumps of hair and flesh stuck to the serrated blade.
They reached a short staircase that led up to a bright blue swirl of light about as big as a door. More computer game physics. DaBigBoom assumed it was some kind of portal that led somewhere else. Standing next to the portal was a gorgeous blonde girl with elf ears sticking out of her long hair. She held a gnarled wooden staff and wore flowing green robes. She looked bored.
Pihanga walked up to the foot of the steps. “Cook Canyon,” she said.
“Again?” the blonde girl said.
“We’re going to defeat Waldorf this time,” Pihanga said.
“You said that last time,” the blonde said, “and the time before that, and the time before that, and the thirteen other times before that.”
“My k’winny mob has increased in experience,” Pihanga said.
“Your k’winny mob is falling to bits,” the blonde said.
Pihanga gave her a crafty smile. “Ah, but this time I have a secret weapon,” she motioned to DaBigBoom.
The blonde peered at DaBigBoom. For a moment her brow furrowed as though she wasn’t quite sure of what she was looking at, and then she spotted the yellow hat and gave a disappointed sigh.
“It’s just another k’winny,” she said. “You need to recruit some proper monsters with classes. You can’t expect to beat the middle levels with only k’winnies.”
“K’winnies are cheap and easy to maintain,” Pihanga said.
“K’winnies are useless.”
The k’winnies quarked and harrumphed their disapproval.
“Do as you’re ordered and send us to Cook Canyon,” Pihanga said.
The blonde sighed. She waved her staff and the portal flared a brighter blue colour. “As you command, oh great and powerful Overlord . . .” Pihanga walked up the steps and jumped into the swirling blue vortex. “. . . to-never-be,” the blonde finished as Pihanga vanished from view.
Fiore and the vampire, Schreck, went next, followed by the battered k’winnies. DaBigBoom considered running off in the opposite direction, but that might mean he’d be stuck in this lunatic role-playing game forever . . . as DaBigBoom.
Fuck it. The quicker he completed it, the quicker he could get the fuck out of here. He walked up the steps.
The blonde looked at him. A puzzled expression was back on her face.
“Hey wait!” she said. “You’re the—”
Too late. DaBigBoom had already stepped into the portal.
I knew I should have left that game alone. What's happening? They've usurped my main character and changed his name. Isn't there supposed to be some pr0n somewhere?
Come back next week for part 3 (there may be some sex somewhere - I hope!)
Friday, September 07, 2012
Some game succubi require little pornification...
The Jackson in HRPG-World series is my affectionate little poke at some of the more risque inclusions in some computer games. Most of those games (not including the outright hentai games like Monster Girl Quest and Violated Hero) are harmless enough and require a truly filthy imagination to push their naughtier elements to their salacious extremes.
And then there are others...
(full link here. jump to 8:30 or so if you're bored of the fighting)
Am I even needed here? :)
The game is Vindictus or Maginobi Heroes and produced by Korean studio, Nexon. I don't know much about it other than it's an MMO based upon the Mabinogion, a collection of very old Welsh stories/myths.
It's a lovely interpretation of a succubus battle.
Given the sexism landmines that keep going off in the games industry after the Lara Croft rape thing, the Hitman sexy nuns thing, the Anita Sarkeesian thing, I wonder how long we'll get to enjoy little bits of offbeat titillation like this in computer games before the PC (political correctness, not personal computer) mafia shuts it down completely. I would be sad to see this happen. Games are fantasy. That fantasy can be ultra-violent and even include comicbook-representations of anatomy for titillating purposes, but it's still fantasy - a confection whipped up for pure entertainment. It might not appeal to everyone, but to stomp on something someone else derives innocent (largely!) pleasure from because it disagrees with your worldview is a particularly mean-minded attitude in my opinion.
There should always be a place for sexy succubi in games. And ludicrously over the top execution scenes a la Manhunt. It's. Not. Real.
The real world is grey enough without shoving that greyness into fantasy as well.
Enough ranting from me anyway. Will Jackson be paying a visit to a Vindictusian "Naughty Room" at some point in his future? Possibly. ;)
Edit: Here's the full intro as it's cut off on the first vid (yes, she doesn't care whether her visitors are male or female):
And then there are others...
(full link here. jump to 8:30 or so if you're bored of the fighting)
Am I even needed here? :)
The game is Vindictus or Maginobi Heroes and produced by Korean studio, Nexon. I don't know much about it other than it's an MMO based upon the Mabinogion, a collection of very old Welsh stories/myths.
It's a lovely interpretation of a succubus battle.
Given the sexism landmines that keep going off in the games industry after the Lara Croft rape thing, the Hitman sexy nuns thing, the Anita Sarkeesian thing, I wonder how long we'll get to enjoy little bits of offbeat titillation like this in computer games before the PC (political correctness, not personal computer) mafia shuts it down completely. I would be sad to see this happen. Games are fantasy. That fantasy can be ultra-violent and even include comicbook-representations of anatomy for titillating purposes, but it's still fantasy - a confection whipped up for pure entertainment. It might not appeal to everyone, but to stomp on something someone else derives innocent (largely!) pleasure from because it disagrees with your worldview is a particularly mean-minded attitude in my opinion.
There should always be a place for sexy succubi in games. And ludicrously over the top execution scenes a la Manhunt. It's. Not. Real.
The real world is grey enough without shoving that greyness into fantasy as well.
Enough ranting from me anyway. Will Jackson be paying a visit to a Vindictusian "Naughty Room" at some point in his future? Possibly. ;)
Edit: Here's the full intro as it's cut off on the first vid (yes, she doesn't care whether her visitors are male or female):
Sunday, September 02, 2012
Jackson in HRPG-World: 2-1 Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
Time to kick off another mini-serial to run here over the next few weeks. I think we'll corrupt a few more innocent childhood gaming memories and continue Jackson's adventures in HRPG-World.
Where was he now? Ian Jackson thought.
He was standing on a giant conveyer belt running through some kind of madhouse factory. Giant gears clanked and clacked amongst puffs of steam. A lunatic carousel tune played in the background.
This didn’t look like the usual hackneyed, sub-Tolkienesque setting he expected for a fantasy role-playing computer game. It was a cavernous factory, more suited to a first-person-shooter or horror game, although the crazy organ-grinder music playing in the background seemed a poor fit for either.
Jackson wasn’t alone on the conveyer belt. He might have been tempted to describe them as toys. They were yellow and looked like a plushy doll of a cartoon character—some kind of flightless bird with a long bill. A kiwi?
The dolls were hideous. They looked as though they’d been put together by demented lab assistants working under Doctor Frankenstein. The stitching was crude, visible, and looked more like scars. None of the dolls had legs or feet. Instead, a pair of miniature cartwheels was attached to the sides of their bodies. Jackson doubted they were toys. Children were more likely to run screaming than play with these.
They were also alive.
Jackson watched as one of the bird-doll-things sat up and blinked oversized cartoon eyes. It was maybe about three-foot in height. The thing turned a head and looked around. In animation it looked like a real-life cartoon gone horribly wrong.
More bird-doll-things stirred as the conveyer belt reached an end illuminated with purple and red spotlights. More of the bird-doll-things waited for them, but they were brown in colour rather than yellow and directed the new arrivals with the scowling efficiency of airport security personnel. Jackson watched as the bird-doll-thing ahead of him hopped off the end of the belt. It was given a leather bum bag and pointed in the direction of a growing queue.
Then it was Jackson’s turn. He stepped off the end of the belt. The brown bird-doll-thing was halfway through the motion of giving Jackson a bum bag when it paused.
Jackson was about average height by human standards, which meant he towered over the three-foot-high bird-doll-thing. The brown attendant turned and found its bill level with Jackson’s crotch. It tilted its head up a little, then a little more, and then tilted it up a lot more until it could actually see Jackson’s face. It blinked slowly, as if aware something wasn’t quite right with the picture but not exactly sure what.
“Um, where is this place?” Jackson asked.
Crazy oompah carousel music continued to blare away in the background.
“You’re in the Nether Regions, mate,” the bird-doll-thing said.
Nether Regions? Must be the setting for this game.
“What am I supposed to do?” Jackson asked.
He wanted to ask, ‘What is my objective in this game?’ but most characters he came across, even the obvious designated game tutors, rarely gave any indication they knew this was really a computer game.
“Work for the masters, pay off your debt, get reincarnated back to the living world, mate.”
“Living world?”
“You’re dead, mate,” the bird-doll-thing said. “These are the Nether Regions. Souls are reincarnated here in the form of k’winnies and must work to pay off the debts their sinning accrued during their life, mate.”
“Dead? No no no,” Jackson said, shaking a finger.
He wasn’t dead. It was just a computer game. He was trapped inside until . . . well, he wasn’t sure exactly. He’d thought it was until he completed the game, but the rules—and the game—kept changing.
“Mate, they all say that,” the brown bird-doll-thing—k’winny?—said.
“Look at me,” Jackson said. “Do I look like I belong here?”
The k’winny peered at him. It frowned. Or rather Jackson assumed the expression was a frown given that it had a cartoon bird face rather than a human face. It blinked. Then it turned around and fetched a novelty yellow baseball cap that resembled the top half of one of the k’winny’s heads. The bill had a slender beak stitched into the fabric and there were a pair of large googly eyes glued to the front. The k’winny motioned for Jackson to duck down and then it reached up to place the k’winny cap on his head. It looked up and smiled. All was right in its world again.
Jackson glanced up at the cap on his head and shook his head.
The k’winny bent down, retrieved the greyish-brown bum bag it had put aside and handed it to Jackson.
“This is to hold your tāra, mate,” it said.
That meant nothing to Jackson. He held the bag up and looked at it in bafflement.
Something bumped against his leg. Jackson turned and saw another blearily blinking k’winny had come off the belt.
“Move along, mate,” the brown k’winny said. “You’re holding things up. Move along. Move along, mate.” He directed Jackson with a limb that was somewhere between a wing and an arm and looked fit for neither purpose.
Jackson walked away shaking his head. Maybe it was one of those games where he had to do a bunch of everyday shit for a couple of hours before the real plot became apparent. JRPGs never seemed in any hurry to actually start.
He joined a line of yellow k’winnies. Two of them looked back at him in surprise. At least until they saw the yellow cap on his head, at which point they went back to grumbling amongst themselves as if nothing at all was out of place.
“K’winnies!”
A shrill voice ripped through the factory. The voice was high-pitched, as though the owner was small, but it blasted through the air as if expelled by the lungs of a giant.
“Oh k’winnies,” the voice warbled.
“Shit. It’s Pihanga.”
Jackson turned his head. All the brown k’winnies had suddenly vanished. When he turned his head back the yellow k’winnies had vanished as well. Jackson was left alone to face the small party walking towards him.
Not quite alone. The k’winnies were still there, but hidden behind the barrels and crates littering the floor of the factory. Jackson saw a yellow head poke up from behind a barrel.
“K’WINNIES!”
The head hastily ducked back down. Jackson wondered if he should be joining it, but by then it was already too late. The party, a strange trio of individuals, had reached him.
At the front was a girl. Sort of. She had the dainty body of an adolescent girl or gymnast, but she also had horns, a tail and a pair of vestigial bat wings that looked too small to be anything other than ornamental. A devil girl, in miniature. Her eyes were the colour of raspberry juice. She gave off the air of a stroppy and spoilt teen and dressed as though she hadn’t yet learned the difference between party girl and streetwalker. Spiky black air erupted in defiance of gravity from two pigtails and her pointed ears were adorned with gaudy, lizard-skull earrings. Her red gloves and boots—long enough to reach her elbows and thighs respectively—covered more flesh than the rest of her clothes combined. Shorts that were little more than panties hid her crotch while a band of red leather was all that covered her chest. Not that there was much to cover—she was as flat as an ironing board.
“Aha, here’s one,” she said, looking at Jackson.
Behind her stood a pale-faced man in evening wear that had seen better days. Jackson assumed he was a vampire—one of the old school Nosferatu, not one of those stupid twinkly fairies from Twilight. He was hunched, had a hook for a nose, wide staring eyes and fangs so long they made him talk funny. Jackson supposed he should be scared of him, but he couldn’t quite muster fear in the face of what appeared to be a walking cartoon caricature.
“Are you sure Mithtreth Pihanga? It lookth a little large and . . . awkward for a k’winny,” the vampire said with a reedy lisp.
“Of course it’s a k’winny, Schreck,” the little devil girl said. “See,” she pointed at the yellow cap on Jackson’s head.
Jackson looked up at the bill of the baseball cap. They couldn’t be fucking serious.
The third figure giggled. Jackson had no clue what she was doing here. She looked like an angel—in the cartoon sense. Fluffy white wings too small for flight stuck out from her back. A white ribbon was tied in her long blue hair. She had a similar flat-chested figure to the devil girl, Pihanga, but less of it was visible beneath her sensible white robes. Was it Halloween in the madhouse or something?
“Come with me, k’winny,” the stroppy little devil girl ordered.
“Fuck off,” Jackson retorted.
Pihanga pulled out a gun and shot him in the face.
Given the source material, I may have trouble keeping this one under control . . .
Jackson in HRPG-World: 2-1 Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions
Where was he now? Ian Jackson thought.
He was standing on a giant conveyer belt running through some kind of madhouse factory. Giant gears clanked and clacked amongst puffs of steam. A lunatic carousel tune played in the background.
This didn’t look like the usual hackneyed, sub-Tolkienesque setting he expected for a fantasy role-playing computer game. It was a cavernous factory, more suited to a first-person-shooter or horror game, although the crazy organ-grinder music playing in the background seemed a poor fit for either.
Jackson wasn’t alone on the conveyer belt. He might have been tempted to describe them as toys. They were yellow and looked like a plushy doll of a cartoon character—some kind of flightless bird with a long bill. A kiwi?
The dolls were hideous. They looked as though they’d been put together by demented lab assistants working under Doctor Frankenstein. The stitching was crude, visible, and looked more like scars. None of the dolls had legs or feet. Instead, a pair of miniature cartwheels was attached to the sides of their bodies. Jackson doubted they were toys. Children were more likely to run screaming than play with these.
They were also alive.
Jackson watched as one of the bird-doll-things sat up and blinked oversized cartoon eyes. It was maybe about three-foot in height. The thing turned a head and looked around. In animation it looked like a real-life cartoon gone horribly wrong.
More bird-doll-things stirred as the conveyer belt reached an end illuminated with purple and red spotlights. More of the bird-doll-things waited for them, but they were brown in colour rather than yellow and directed the new arrivals with the scowling efficiency of airport security personnel. Jackson watched as the bird-doll-thing ahead of him hopped off the end of the belt. It was given a leather bum bag and pointed in the direction of a growing queue.
Then it was Jackson’s turn. He stepped off the end of the belt. The brown bird-doll-thing was halfway through the motion of giving Jackson a bum bag when it paused.
Jackson was about average height by human standards, which meant he towered over the three-foot-high bird-doll-thing. The brown attendant turned and found its bill level with Jackson’s crotch. It tilted its head up a little, then a little more, and then tilted it up a lot more until it could actually see Jackson’s face. It blinked slowly, as if aware something wasn’t quite right with the picture but not exactly sure what.
“Um, where is this place?” Jackson asked.
Crazy oompah carousel music continued to blare away in the background.
“You’re in the Nether Regions, mate,” the bird-doll-thing said.
Nether Regions? Must be the setting for this game.
“What am I supposed to do?” Jackson asked.
He wanted to ask, ‘What is my objective in this game?’ but most characters he came across, even the obvious designated game tutors, rarely gave any indication they knew this was really a computer game.
“Work for the masters, pay off your debt, get reincarnated back to the living world, mate.”
“Living world?”
“You’re dead, mate,” the bird-doll-thing said. “These are the Nether Regions. Souls are reincarnated here in the form of k’winnies and must work to pay off the debts their sinning accrued during their life, mate.”
“Dead? No no no,” Jackson said, shaking a finger.
He wasn’t dead. It was just a computer game. He was trapped inside until . . . well, he wasn’t sure exactly. He’d thought it was until he completed the game, but the rules—and the game—kept changing.
“Mate, they all say that,” the brown bird-doll-thing—k’winny?—said.
“Look at me,” Jackson said. “Do I look like I belong here?”
The k’winny peered at him. It frowned. Or rather Jackson assumed the expression was a frown given that it had a cartoon bird face rather than a human face. It blinked. Then it turned around and fetched a novelty yellow baseball cap that resembled the top half of one of the k’winny’s heads. The bill had a slender beak stitched into the fabric and there were a pair of large googly eyes glued to the front. The k’winny motioned for Jackson to duck down and then it reached up to place the k’winny cap on his head. It looked up and smiled. All was right in its world again.
Jackson glanced up at the cap on his head and shook his head.
The k’winny bent down, retrieved the greyish-brown bum bag it had put aside and handed it to Jackson.
“This is to hold your tāra, mate,” it said.
That meant nothing to Jackson. He held the bag up and looked at it in bafflement.
Something bumped against his leg. Jackson turned and saw another blearily blinking k’winny had come off the belt.
“Move along, mate,” the brown k’winny said. “You’re holding things up. Move along. Move along, mate.” He directed Jackson with a limb that was somewhere between a wing and an arm and looked fit for neither purpose.
Jackson walked away shaking his head. Maybe it was one of those games where he had to do a bunch of everyday shit for a couple of hours before the real plot became apparent. JRPGs never seemed in any hurry to actually start.
He joined a line of yellow k’winnies. Two of them looked back at him in surprise. At least until they saw the yellow cap on his head, at which point they went back to grumbling amongst themselves as if nothing at all was out of place.
“K’winnies!”
A shrill voice ripped through the factory. The voice was high-pitched, as though the owner was small, but it blasted through the air as if expelled by the lungs of a giant.
“Oh k’winnies,” the voice warbled.
“Shit. It’s Pihanga.”
Jackson turned his head. All the brown k’winnies had suddenly vanished. When he turned his head back the yellow k’winnies had vanished as well. Jackson was left alone to face the small party walking towards him.
Not quite alone. The k’winnies were still there, but hidden behind the barrels and crates littering the floor of the factory. Jackson saw a yellow head poke up from behind a barrel.
“K’WINNIES!”
The head hastily ducked back down. Jackson wondered if he should be joining it, but by then it was already too late. The party, a strange trio of individuals, had reached him.
At the front was a girl. Sort of. She had the dainty body of an adolescent girl or gymnast, but she also had horns, a tail and a pair of vestigial bat wings that looked too small to be anything other than ornamental. A devil girl, in miniature. Her eyes were the colour of raspberry juice. She gave off the air of a stroppy and spoilt teen and dressed as though she hadn’t yet learned the difference between party girl and streetwalker. Spiky black air erupted in defiance of gravity from two pigtails and her pointed ears were adorned with gaudy, lizard-skull earrings. Her red gloves and boots—long enough to reach her elbows and thighs respectively—covered more flesh than the rest of her clothes combined. Shorts that were little more than panties hid her crotch while a band of red leather was all that covered her chest. Not that there was much to cover—she was as flat as an ironing board.
“Aha, here’s one,” she said, looking at Jackson.
Behind her stood a pale-faced man in evening wear that had seen better days. Jackson assumed he was a vampire—one of the old school Nosferatu, not one of those stupid twinkly fairies from Twilight. He was hunched, had a hook for a nose, wide staring eyes and fangs so long they made him talk funny. Jackson supposed he should be scared of him, but he couldn’t quite muster fear in the face of what appeared to be a walking cartoon caricature.
“Are you sure Mithtreth Pihanga? It lookth a little large and . . . awkward for a k’winny,” the vampire said with a reedy lisp.
“Of course it’s a k’winny, Schreck,” the little devil girl said. “See,” she pointed at the yellow cap on Jackson’s head.
Jackson looked up at the bill of the baseball cap. They couldn’t be fucking serious.
The third figure giggled. Jackson had no clue what she was doing here. She looked like an angel—in the cartoon sense. Fluffy white wings too small for flight stuck out from her back. A white ribbon was tied in her long blue hair. She had a similar flat-chested figure to the devil girl, Pihanga, but less of it was visible beneath her sensible white robes. Was it Halloween in the madhouse or something?
“Come with me, k’winny,” the stroppy little devil girl ordered.
“Fuck off,” Jackson retorted.
Pihanga pulled out a gun and shot him in the face.
Given the source material, I may have trouble keeping this one under control . . .
Saturday, June 09, 2012
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-4 Puff-Puff Setback
Time for the conclusion.
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-4 Puff-Puff Setback
Moréhâgg placed a long finger at the corner of her full lips and gave him a coquettish smile.
“The next one will take me to zero health,” Jackson said.
He didn’t know what would happen then. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
Moréhâgg shifted position in his lap. Her labia tightened around the root of his cock, preparing for the final suck that would take Jackson right to the Game Over screen.
“Please.”
Moréhâgg paused. She smiled down at Jackson.
“The fight has gone long enough. My Coup de Grâce move is ready.”
Coup de Grâce? Monsters had those as well?
“It’s my super special move. You’ll really like it.”
Moréhâgg started to move against him. Her hips rocked against him with light bounces that gradually increased in force and frequency. Her heavy breasts swayed as she bobbed up and down. She was really fucking him now. He felt the cloying suction of her pussy every time she lifted her hips. The cushioned cuff of her labia bulged out every time her body slapped down against him.
Jackson felt a trembling tension jangle through his legs and buttocks. A pleasant wriggling sensation squirmed in his balls. This was fucking crazy. He was about to come buckets inside a boss of a stupid JRPG.
And it was going to—
(kill?)
—Game Over him.
He couldn’t do anything. He was helpless and about to receive her ultimate attack, whatever that was.
“Can’t we talk it over?” Jackson said. “I have gold…” he added hopefully.
Moréhâgg kept her upper body still as her hips smoothly bounced up and down on Jackson. She stared straight ahead and moved her arms and hands in front of her breasts in sinuous motions that looked like some kind of weird yoga move.
“Ultimate Succu-Fuck Drain,” she said.
Her hands moved in a circle. A glowing pentagram spun out from each palm. They expanded and tipped over into horizontal circles wide enough to contain both Moréhâgg’s and Jackson’s bodies. One, its outline ghostly, sank down through Jackson until it was lying flat on the floor. The other rose above Moréhâgg until it became a floating counterpart to the circle on the floor.
This looked bad. Real bad.
“Um…Um…” Jackson started. He gave the edges of the circle he was lying within a nervous glance.
Moréhâgg gave an orgiastic moan. The circles flared with purple-black light, forming a shining column that enclosed both of them. The stone floor suddenly vanished and Jackson was falling into some kind of purple-black matter that gave beneath him like spongy-soft cushions. The impact jammed his cock deeper up inside Moréhâgg. The squishy walls of her pussy clenched even more tightly around him. He felt his glans pushing up against some kind of soft fleshy sphincter. It gave with a pop and so did Jackson. He shuddered as a warm gush of pleasure flooded out of his trembling body.
Now he really was coming buckets.
Red numbers appeared above his head and whirled like slots on speed. One hundred…one thousand…
Moréhâgg’s eyes were closed. She looked serene as she straddled him. Her chest quivered and throbbed in time to the pulsing suction tugging on Jackson’s cock. He felt it, a soft orifice that wrapped around the swollen head of his erection and sucked spurt after spurt out of his quivering member.
…ten thousand…
Moréhâgg sighed in ecstasy and squeezed her breasts. Jackson writhed beneath her, his body no longer under his control as she emptied his balls with great lusty swallows.
…one million…
Emptied him.
Jackson passed out when the numbers hit forty-four million.
* * * *
“Bless you, child. The Almighty watches over you.”
Jackson woke up in a church with a priest standing over him.
So that’s what happened when his health hit zero. He went back to the last save point. Phew. That wasn’t so bad. Maybe it was worth ‘losing’ that fight a few more times before proceeding, he thought with a grin.
Huh, what was he doing back in his shitty starting clothes? And—
His gold! They’d taken all his money and equipment!
“Motherfucking cunt-faced bitch!”
The priest placidly ignored his outburst.
That wasn’t all. Something didn’t feel right.
“Hey dickwad, how much XP until the next level?” he asked the priest.
“You require fifteen experience points to reach level two.”
“Level two! I was level thirteen!”
“It appears you were hit by a very powerful level-draining attack,” the priest said.
Jackson wasn’t listening. He sat with his head in hands. Thirteen levels gone, sucked out of him. All the grinding he’d done over the last week, wasted.
Level one.
“Fuck.”
Oh well, nothing for it. It was back to the starting area forest. He had a lot of those annoying blue bouncing slime-things to kill.
I failed to kill my protagonist. How negligent of me. Oh well, I guess we'll hear more of Jackson's trials and tribulations at some point in the future.
For those that haven't guessed it already, the JRPG I'm referencing (hopefully obliquely enough to not have my ass sued to oblivion) is the Dragon Quest series, in this case IX. The series has a running innuendo joke about Puff-Puff. It's harmless innuendo exploited mercilessly by the corrupted cesspool I have for an imagination. The actual game is fun and perfectly safe for children.
Jackson will return in "Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions".
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-4 Puff-Puff Setback
Moréhâgg placed a long finger at the corner of her full lips and gave him a coquettish smile.
“The next one will take me to zero health,” Jackson said.
He didn’t know what would happen then. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
Moréhâgg shifted position in his lap. Her labia tightened around the root of his cock, preparing for the final suck that would take Jackson right to the Game Over screen.
“Please.”
Moréhâgg paused. She smiled down at Jackson.
“The fight has gone long enough. My Coup de Grâce move is ready.”
Coup de Grâce? Monsters had those as well?
“It’s my super special move. You’ll really like it.”
Moréhâgg started to move against him. Her hips rocked against him with light bounces that gradually increased in force and frequency. Her heavy breasts swayed as she bobbed up and down. She was really fucking him now. He felt the cloying suction of her pussy every time she lifted her hips. The cushioned cuff of her labia bulged out every time her body slapped down against him.
Jackson felt a trembling tension jangle through his legs and buttocks. A pleasant wriggling sensation squirmed in his balls. This was fucking crazy. He was about to come buckets inside a boss of a stupid JRPG.
And it was going to—
(kill?)
—Game Over him.
He couldn’t do anything. He was helpless and about to receive her ultimate attack, whatever that was.
“Can’t we talk it over?” Jackson said. “I have gold…” he added hopefully.
Moréhâgg kept her upper body still as her hips smoothly bounced up and down on Jackson. She stared straight ahead and moved her arms and hands in front of her breasts in sinuous motions that looked like some kind of weird yoga move.
“Ultimate Succu-Fuck Drain,” she said.
Her hands moved in a circle. A glowing pentagram spun out from each palm. They expanded and tipped over into horizontal circles wide enough to contain both Moréhâgg’s and Jackson’s bodies. One, its outline ghostly, sank down through Jackson until it was lying flat on the floor. The other rose above Moréhâgg until it became a floating counterpart to the circle on the floor.
This looked bad. Real bad.
“Um…Um…” Jackson started. He gave the edges of the circle he was lying within a nervous glance.
Moréhâgg gave an orgiastic moan. The circles flared with purple-black light, forming a shining column that enclosed both of them. The stone floor suddenly vanished and Jackson was falling into some kind of purple-black matter that gave beneath him like spongy-soft cushions. The impact jammed his cock deeper up inside Moréhâgg. The squishy walls of her pussy clenched even more tightly around him. He felt his glans pushing up against some kind of soft fleshy sphincter. It gave with a pop and so did Jackson. He shuddered as a warm gush of pleasure flooded out of his trembling body.
Now he really was coming buckets.
Red numbers appeared above his head and whirled like slots on speed. One hundred…one thousand…
Moréhâgg’s eyes were closed. She looked serene as she straddled him. Her chest quivered and throbbed in time to the pulsing suction tugging on Jackson’s cock. He felt it, a soft orifice that wrapped around the swollen head of his erection and sucked spurt after spurt out of his quivering member.
…ten thousand…
Moréhâgg sighed in ecstasy and squeezed her breasts. Jackson writhed beneath her, his body no longer under his control as she emptied his balls with great lusty swallows.
…one million…
Emptied him.
Jackson passed out when the numbers hit forty-four million.
* * * *
“Bless you, child. The Almighty watches over you.”
Jackson woke up in a church with a priest standing over him.
So that’s what happened when his health hit zero. He went back to the last save point. Phew. That wasn’t so bad. Maybe it was worth ‘losing’ that fight a few more times before proceeding, he thought with a grin.
Huh, what was he doing back in his shitty starting clothes? And—
His gold! They’d taken all his money and equipment!
“Motherfucking cunt-faced bitch!”
The priest placidly ignored his outburst.
That wasn’t all. Something didn’t feel right.
“Hey dickwad, how much XP until the next level?” he asked the priest.
“You require fifteen experience points to reach level two.”
“Level two! I was level thirteen!”
“It appears you were hit by a very powerful level-draining attack,” the priest said.
Jackson wasn’t listening. He sat with his head in hands. Thirteen levels gone, sucked out of him. All the grinding he’d done over the last week, wasted.
Level one.
“Fuck.”
Oh well, nothing for it. It was back to the starting area forest. He had a lot of those annoying blue bouncing slime-things to kill.
I failed to kill my protagonist. How negligent of me. Oh well, I guess we'll hear more of Jackson's trials and tribulations at some point in the future.
For those that haven't guessed it already, the JRPG I'm referencing (hopefully obliquely enough to not have my ass sued to oblivion) is the Dragon Quest series, in this case IX. The series has a running innuendo joke about Puff-Puff. It's harmless innuendo exploited mercilessly by the corrupted cesspool I have for an imagination. The actual game is fun and perfectly safe for children.
Jackson will return in "Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions".
Saturday, June 02, 2012
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-3 Puff-Puff Setback
Part 3 and Moréhâgg's special moves are a little on the XXX-rated side. You have been warned...
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-3 Puff-Puff Setback
“You seem a very angry young adventurer. It’s time to use one of my special attacks. I think you’ll like it.” Her red eyes twinkled as she smiled at him. “How about it? Would you like to see my Puff-Puff attack?”
Jackson shook his head. Puff-Puff. Really. Those wacky Japanese, always trying to get crap past the radar.
“Isn’t that some lame euphemism for rubbing your titties in my face.”
Moréhâgg smiled. She placed her hands on either side of her swollen breasts and squeezed them together. Jackson almost expected to hear some kind of stupid boing sound effect.
“Why don’t you close your eyes, relax and enjoy it,” Moréhâgg said with a voice like crushed velvet.
“Yeah right,” Jackson said. “And when I open them you’ll be rubbing two of those stupid slime creatures against the side of my head. Or it will be two sheep rubbing their asses against me. Don’t bother trying to tease me. I know this is an E10 game. There’s no way you’re getting your tits out.”
Moréhâgg pounced, knocking Jackson on his back and pinning him to the floor. She straddled his chest and unhooked the catch holding her latex corset-thing together. Her breasts—big, pink and extremely bouncy—bobbed free.
They were…impressive.
“You were right with the first guess,” Moréhâgg said with a lascivious smile. She caught her swaying mammaries and cupped them in her hands.
Jackson looked up at the swaying mounds of creamy-pink flesh. He clearly saw the perky little pink points of her nipples. What the fuck was going on here? This didn’t happen in battles. They all followed the same ridiculous yet inviolable laws.
Moréhâgg’s red eyes twinkled. Her moist lips pouted as if for a kiss. “Puff-Puff,” she breathed.
She fell forwards, burying his head in the warm space between her large and extremely soft boobs. Jackson lay back, unable do anything as she covered his face with her bosom. She twisted her upper body from side to side and Jackson felt the soft mass of her heavy breasts paff his head one way and then the other.
Giggling, Moréhâgg pressed down harder. Her arms went around the back of his head and she scooped him up into the smothering embrace of her cleavage. Jackson’s head, wedged up between her soft boobs, moved from side to side as she twisted her body. Her skin felt like the smoothest silk as it rubbed against his cheeks. His nose and mouth were pressed so tightly into her chest it was hard to breathe.
Moréhâgg had no intention of suffocating him just yet. She let his head fall away enough to allow him to take a breath. He inhaled air saturated with the heady musk of her body. Laughing, she paffed his head with her swinging breasts. Then she was pressing down again and squeezing her tits together around his face.
“What do you think, adventurer? Nice aren’t they. Have you ever felt a pair as warm and as soft as this?”
Jackson hadn’t, although he couldn’t admit that. His mouth was filled with her overflowing chest. She let him take another hasty breath and then started squeezing her boobs against the sides of his face again, squeezing them like they were super-soft rubber balls.
Was this an actual attack? What kind of fucked up game was this?
Actually, it felt pretty sweet.
At least up until the point when Moréhâgg didn’t lift up to allow him to take a breath. Instead she responded to his squirming struggles by pressing her chest down even harder, smothering him as effectively as if she’d placed a pillow over his face.
“I need you nice and pliant for my other moves,” Moréhâgg said.
Jackson wriggled as he tried, unsuccessfully, to squirm out from under her. His lungs were aching.
“And now my other Puff-Puff attack.”
She lifted her smothering bosom. Her breasts shivered and two thick purple clouds of perfume puffed out of her nipples…
…right as Jackson sucked in a much-needed lungful of air.
Ohhh…
The fumes rushed up to his brain and sent it sailing away on fluffy, perfumed clouds. He lay back on the floor and felt all his muscles relax as the tension drained from his body. Well, not all of it. Down between his legs he felt a great deal of tension straining against his underwear.
“Time to make you a little more comfortable,” Moréhâgg said. “It’s far too hot in here to be wearing all this leather armor.”
She went straight to his groin, undid the buckle and pulled down his leather leggings. Jackson didn’t resist. He thought he might be hallucinating as there were little dancing pink hearts floating in front of his vision. Moréhâgg pulled away his cotton underwear and his cock bobbed up like a hypnotized snake.
“Ooh, nice,” Moréhâgg said. She ran a moist tongue around her glossy red lips.
The hearts went away. Jackson noticed the comfortable paralysis that had kept him still had ended. He could move. He tightened his grip on his sword.
The succubus noticed too.
“Humph. Lucky roll,” she pouted. “The entrancement should have lasted for at least another two turns.”
Rolls? Turns? What was she?
Jackson started to raise his sword.
Moréhâgg poked his wrist with a single finger. “Block.”
Jackson’s hand fell back onto the floor.
Moréhâgg shifted position. The pink mountainous peaks of her naked breasts loomed over Jackson’s face.
“Double Puff-Puff.”
Her nipples were already expelling more clouds of perfume as she dropped down and mashed Jackson’s face up between the soft pillows of her breasts. Mewling in pleasure, she rubbed them against his face. Jackson’s vision vanished beneath jiggling pink flesh. Moréhâgg made a lot of indecent noises as she smothered him with her tits. Three times she pressed down hard enough to cut off his air, and three times she allowed him breaths tainted with her cloying, magical perfume.
At the end of it ‘Jackson is unable to move’ was scrolling through his head like a child’s first attempt at a goto program. A silly grin was plastered on his lips and his cock was throbbing hard enough to burst.
“Better,” Moréhâgg said. “That should keep you still for a while.”
Jackson couldn’t move, but other than that his thoughts were relatively clear…apart from the distraction provided by his raging hard-on. Moréhâgg squatted right above it. Her vagina was completely exposed, naked and not even pixelated. Jackson’s cock wasn’t pixelated either.
This had gone way beyond lame innuendo. She was really going to fuck him. That couldn’t be right. Even the sleaziest of game developers wouldn’t dare going this far.
Well apart from that crazy dude who’d made that fucked up monster girl game.
“Um, isn’t this a children’s game?” Jackson said. “E10+?”
Moréhâgg cocked her head. “You’re over eighteen aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then quit complaining.”
She sat down.
On his cock.
Unable to move, Jackson watched as his throbbing hard-on slowly vanished inside her. It felt like he was pushing up inside a cup of some kind of warm, soft, gooey substance. Moréhâgg sighed as she reached the base of his penis. Her labia puffed up, forming a tight cuff around the root of his cock. Her pussy wriggled around him and a thick cloud of pleasure diffused down his shaft and through his body.
“Oh yes,” Moréhâgg sighed.
She closed her eyes. Her left hand squeezed the firm globe of her breast. Her pussy stopped wriggling and instead squeezed tightly around him, packing her soft squishy tissue up against every over-sensitized millimeter of his throbbing hard-on.
Jackson’s mouth fell open.
That felt nice.
At least until the familiar slap he felt every time an enemy’s attack hit him. Forty-four flashed above his head in red numbers. Moréhâgg gave a contented sigh. Forty-four flashed above her head in green numbers.
She was draining his health points to replenish her own?
Her pussy relaxed, feeling again like a cup filled with warm gooey jelly.
“Mmm.” Moréhâgg shifted position. Her chest, and the pleasant curves of her breasts, rose as she drew in a relaxed breath.
She breathed out and her pussy pressed tightly around his cock with a moist squish. Jackson’s legs quivered as he felt her soft flesh squeeze his erection with a pleasant pulsing motion.
The pleasure was again forestalled by a slap as forty-four flashed above his head in red numbers. The same number appeared above the succubi’s head in green.
She gave an indecent sigh. Her cheeks reddened. Both of her hands squeezed the bulges of her tits together.
“This is my second favorite action,” Moréhâgg said. “Do you like it.”
“I’m not sure I like what it’s doing to my health points,” Jackson said.
Moréhâgg tipped her head back and laughed. She shifted position in his lap, bouncing against him with little rocks of her hips. The gooey flesh of her pussy pressed tightly against his cock in another smothering embrace. Snugly gripped, Jackson felt more pulsing little sucks run up his throbbing shaft.
Oh…Oh…
His heels rattled against the stone floor. His hips moved against her with involuntary jerks. Her body was a soft warm centre wrapped around his most intimate organ. He thought he might have come. Something had oozed out.
He felt another weird slap as another forty-four point chunk vanished from his health and went to the demon girl straddling him.
Moréhâgg opened her eyes and smiled down at Jackson. Her face had a contented glow.
“Back to full health,” she said.
“That’s…uh…good to hear,” Jackson said. “That means you can stop, right…?”
Her three hits had taken over ninety percent of his health.
Moréhâgg placed a long finger at the corner of her full lips and gave him a coquettish smile.
“The next one will take me to zero health,” Jackson said.
He didn’t know what would happen then. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
Moréhâgg shifted position in his lap. Her labia tightened around the root of his cock, preparing for the final suck that would take Jackson right to the Game Over screen.
“Please.”
Moréhâgg paused. She smiled down at Jackson.
“The fight has gone long enough. My Coup de Grâce move is ready.”
Uh-oh, things do not look good for ourhero chew toy. Concluded next Saturday...
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-3 Puff-Puff Setback
“You seem a very angry young adventurer. It’s time to use one of my special attacks. I think you’ll like it.” Her red eyes twinkled as she smiled at him. “How about it? Would you like to see my Puff-Puff attack?”
Jackson shook his head. Puff-Puff. Really. Those wacky Japanese, always trying to get crap past the radar.
“Isn’t that some lame euphemism for rubbing your titties in my face.”
Moréhâgg smiled. She placed her hands on either side of her swollen breasts and squeezed them together. Jackson almost expected to hear some kind of stupid boing sound effect.
“Why don’t you close your eyes, relax and enjoy it,” Moréhâgg said with a voice like crushed velvet.
“Yeah right,” Jackson said. “And when I open them you’ll be rubbing two of those stupid slime creatures against the side of my head. Or it will be two sheep rubbing their asses against me. Don’t bother trying to tease me. I know this is an E10 game. There’s no way you’re getting your tits out.”
Moréhâgg pounced, knocking Jackson on his back and pinning him to the floor. She straddled his chest and unhooked the catch holding her latex corset-thing together. Her breasts—big, pink and extremely bouncy—bobbed free.
They were…impressive.
“You were right with the first guess,” Moréhâgg said with a lascivious smile. She caught her swaying mammaries and cupped them in her hands.
Jackson looked up at the swaying mounds of creamy-pink flesh. He clearly saw the perky little pink points of her nipples. What the fuck was going on here? This didn’t happen in battles. They all followed the same ridiculous yet inviolable laws.
Moréhâgg’s red eyes twinkled. Her moist lips pouted as if for a kiss. “Puff-Puff,” she breathed.
She fell forwards, burying his head in the warm space between her large and extremely soft boobs. Jackson lay back, unable do anything as she covered his face with her bosom. She twisted her upper body from side to side and Jackson felt the soft mass of her heavy breasts paff his head one way and then the other.
Giggling, Moréhâgg pressed down harder. Her arms went around the back of his head and she scooped him up into the smothering embrace of her cleavage. Jackson’s head, wedged up between her soft boobs, moved from side to side as she twisted her body. Her skin felt like the smoothest silk as it rubbed against his cheeks. His nose and mouth were pressed so tightly into her chest it was hard to breathe.
Moréhâgg had no intention of suffocating him just yet. She let his head fall away enough to allow him to take a breath. He inhaled air saturated with the heady musk of her body. Laughing, she paffed his head with her swinging breasts. Then she was pressing down again and squeezing her tits together around his face.
“What do you think, adventurer? Nice aren’t they. Have you ever felt a pair as warm and as soft as this?”
Jackson hadn’t, although he couldn’t admit that. His mouth was filled with her overflowing chest. She let him take another hasty breath and then started squeezing her boobs against the sides of his face again, squeezing them like they were super-soft rubber balls.
Was this an actual attack? What kind of fucked up game was this?
Actually, it felt pretty sweet.
At least up until the point when Moréhâgg didn’t lift up to allow him to take a breath. Instead she responded to his squirming struggles by pressing her chest down even harder, smothering him as effectively as if she’d placed a pillow over his face.
“I need you nice and pliant for my other moves,” Moréhâgg said.
Jackson wriggled as he tried, unsuccessfully, to squirm out from under her. His lungs were aching.
“And now my other Puff-Puff attack.”
She lifted her smothering bosom. Her breasts shivered and two thick purple clouds of perfume puffed out of her nipples…
…right as Jackson sucked in a much-needed lungful of air.
Ohhh…
The fumes rushed up to his brain and sent it sailing away on fluffy, perfumed clouds. He lay back on the floor and felt all his muscles relax as the tension drained from his body. Well, not all of it. Down between his legs he felt a great deal of tension straining against his underwear.
“Time to make you a little more comfortable,” Moréhâgg said. “It’s far too hot in here to be wearing all this leather armor.”
She went straight to his groin, undid the buckle and pulled down his leather leggings. Jackson didn’t resist. He thought he might be hallucinating as there were little dancing pink hearts floating in front of his vision. Moréhâgg pulled away his cotton underwear and his cock bobbed up like a hypnotized snake.
“Ooh, nice,” Moréhâgg said. She ran a moist tongue around her glossy red lips.
The hearts went away. Jackson noticed the comfortable paralysis that had kept him still had ended. He could move. He tightened his grip on his sword.
The succubus noticed too.
“Humph. Lucky roll,” she pouted. “The entrancement should have lasted for at least another two turns.”
Rolls? Turns? What was she?
Jackson started to raise his sword.
Moréhâgg poked his wrist with a single finger. “Block.”
Jackson’s hand fell back onto the floor.
Moréhâgg shifted position. The pink mountainous peaks of her naked breasts loomed over Jackson’s face.
“Double Puff-Puff.”
Her nipples were already expelling more clouds of perfume as she dropped down and mashed Jackson’s face up between the soft pillows of her breasts. Mewling in pleasure, she rubbed them against his face. Jackson’s vision vanished beneath jiggling pink flesh. Moréhâgg made a lot of indecent noises as she smothered him with her tits. Three times she pressed down hard enough to cut off his air, and three times she allowed him breaths tainted with her cloying, magical perfume.
At the end of it ‘Jackson is unable to move’ was scrolling through his head like a child’s first attempt at a goto program. A silly grin was plastered on his lips and his cock was throbbing hard enough to burst.
“Better,” Moréhâgg said. “That should keep you still for a while.”
Jackson couldn’t move, but other than that his thoughts were relatively clear…apart from the distraction provided by his raging hard-on. Moréhâgg squatted right above it. Her vagina was completely exposed, naked and not even pixelated. Jackson’s cock wasn’t pixelated either.
This had gone way beyond lame innuendo. She was really going to fuck him. That couldn’t be right. Even the sleaziest of game developers wouldn’t dare going this far.
Well apart from that crazy dude who’d made that fucked up monster girl game.
“Um, isn’t this a children’s game?” Jackson said. “E10+?”
Moréhâgg cocked her head. “You’re over eighteen aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then quit complaining.”
She sat down.
On his cock.
Unable to move, Jackson watched as his throbbing hard-on slowly vanished inside her. It felt like he was pushing up inside a cup of some kind of warm, soft, gooey substance. Moréhâgg sighed as she reached the base of his penis. Her labia puffed up, forming a tight cuff around the root of his cock. Her pussy wriggled around him and a thick cloud of pleasure diffused down his shaft and through his body.
“Oh yes,” Moréhâgg sighed.
She closed her eyes. Her left hand squeezed the firm globe of her breast. Her pussy stopped wriggling and instead squeezed tightly around him, packing her soft squishy tissue up against every over-sensitized millimeter of his throbbing hard-on.
Jackson’s mouth fell open.
That felt nice.
At least until the familiar slap he felt every time an enemy’s attack hit him. Forty-four flashed above his head in red numbers. Moréhâgg gave a contented sigh. Forty-four flashed above her head in green numbers.
She was draining his health points to replenish her own?
Her pussy relaxed, feeling again like a cup filled with warm gooey jelly.
“Mmm.” Moréhâgg shifted position. Her chest, and the pleasant curves of her breasts, rose as she drew in a relaxed breath.
She breathed out and her pussy pressed tightly around his cock with a moist squish. Jackson’s legs quivered as he felt her soft flesh squeeze his erection with a pleasant pulsing motion.
The pleasure was again forestalled by a slap as forty-four flashed above his head in red numbers. The same number appeared above the succubi’s head in green.
She gave an indecent sigh. Her cheeks reddened. Both of her hands squeezed the bulges of her tits together.
“This is my second favorite action,” Moréhâgg said. “Do you like it.”
“I’m not sure I like what it’s doing to my health points,” Jackson said.
Moréhâgg tipped her head back and laughed. She shifted position in his lap, bouncing against him with little rocks of her hips. The gooey flesh of her pussy pressed tightly against his cock in another smothering embrace. Snugly gripped, Jackson felt more pulsing little sucks run up his throbbing shaft.
Oh…Oh…
His heels rattled against the stone floor. His hips moved against her with involuntary jerks. Her body was a soft warm centre wrapped around his most intimate organ. He thought he might have come. Something had oozed out.
He felt another weird slap as another forty-four point chunk vanished from his health and went to the demon girl straddling him.
Moréhâgg opened her eyes and smiled down at Jackson. Her face had a contented glow.
“Back to full health,” she said.
“That’s…uh…good to hear,” Jackson said. “That means you can stop, right…?”
Her three hits had taken over ninety percent of his health.
Moréhâgg placed a long finger at the corner of her full lips and gave him a coquettish smile.
“The next one will take me to zero health,” Jackson said.
He didn’t know what would happen then. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
Moréhâgg shifted position in his lap. Her labia tightened around the root of his cock, preparing for the final suck that would take Jackson right to the Game Over screen.
“Please.”
Moréhâgg paused. She smiled down at Jackson.
“The fight has gone long enough. My Coup de Grâce move is ready.”
Uh-oh, things do not look good for our
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-2 Puff-Puff Setback
The story continues...
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-2 Puff-Puff Setback
“Welcome to the lair of Moréhâgg the succubus, adventurer,” horny fetish-bait said. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you.”
“And ima gonna give your face a good turkey-slappin’ wiv my penis,” Jackson said.
Jackson had given up bothering to say anything sensible. It was a JRPG. No one had more than three lines of dialogue and it didn’t matter what he said anyway.
Demonic perv-magnet pouted at him. “Wouldn’t you rather I sucked it instead?”
Eh?
No time to ponder what he’d thought she said. He felt that strange swirly dislocation that indicated he was about to enter battle. His vision blurred and then cleared. He was standing in the same location, but everything around him appeared crisper, as if he was seeing it all at a higher resolution.
That included the succubus.
Jackson smiled and shook his head. So predictable. Didn’t matter what age the game was aimed at, the dirty old developers couldn’t resist sneaking in an obvious fetish fuel character for them and their audience of adolescent boys to perv over. Jackson used to be one of those adolescent boys before he’d grown up and realized how sad it was.
Moréhâgg was worthy of a good perv. She looked like filth incarnate. She possessed the mountainous silicone-enhanced peaks of a porn actress welded to an impossibly thin wasp waist—the kind of figure that could only exist in hentai. Her costume wasn’t exactly there to preserve modesty. Her shiny purple top revealed more cleavage than it hid, and the glossy material was stretched almost to bursting trying to contain her abundant breasts. The eye-shaped clasp that held the thing together at her chest looked like it might pop at any moment. Most of her flat belly, including the little dimple of her navel, was exposed. Her long lithe legs were covered in kinky fishnet stockings that ran down to a pair of sexy stiletto heels. The stockings were attached to her waist with suspenders.
Fetish fuel. Pure filthy fetish fuel.
She was also the area boss. Jackson could tell—she had her own battle theme.
That was the other stupid thing. Every time he went into battle, music would start playing even though there wasn’t a single musician in sight. Usually it was something wibbly-warbly that was meant to be rousing, but instead sounded like someone farting through a tin in a bath full of semen. Moréhâgg’s music was different—slow and slinky. Dirty.
Wait!
Jackson noticed she wasn’t wearing any underwear. He looked between her legs and saw a neat little bar of trimmed pubic hair and the shadowy cleft of her pussy.
This was…unexpected.
He remembered her words before the battle had begun. Had she actually said what he thought he’d heard her say?
Moréhâgg stood next to the throne and gave her long red nails a bored glance.
“Are you going to do something, or do I have to wait here all day?”
That jerked Jackson to attention. Yes, it was his turn.
He charged forwards and slashed Moréhâgg across her ample chest. He felt the impact and Moréhâgg doubled up. Thirty-one flashed above her head in floating red numbers. Then she stood back up straight and Jackson saw no visible mark his attack had hit her.
None of his attacks ever did. Jackson had slaughtered hundreds of stupid gonks in the ruins above and in the countryside leading up to them and his blade was still as pristine and shiny as if it had been freshly forged. Kids’ game. No blood effects allowed here.
“Is that all?” Moréhâgg taunted.
Jackson knew he’d damaged her from the numbers he’d seen flash above her head.
She looked down at his sword.
“No wonder. You’re still using that? Why didn’t you get the better one at the last town?”
“Waste of money,” Jackson muttered at his toes.
Never buy weapons. There was always the same or better hiding in the next chest. That’s how JRPGs worked.
The demon girl threw a fireball at him and he smoothly dodged it. He didn’t know how much health she had left. Probably not much. The fetish fuel enemies were usually pretty flimsy, but they often made up for it with lots of annoying status-changing attacks. Best if he finished this quickly. Time to use…
“Oh, are you going to use one of your special attacks?” Moréhâgg asked. Her eyes shone with excitement.
Who was this? She was the first character Jackson had encountered that seemed aware they were in a world constrained by weird videogame rules.
“Come on, let’s see it,” Moréhâgg said eagerly.
Jackson took up a stance with his sword. He hated this part.
“Aww, are you embarrassed,” Moréhâgg said. “You know it doesn’t work if you don’t call it first.”
Jackson knew. Unfortunately.
“Super Slash,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
Stupid Japanese anime conventions. She was right though, it didn’t work unless he called it first. Jackson hated that. It always made him feel like the dorkiest Dork McDorkien.
The succubus put a hand to her mouth and giggled.
Flames flickered along the edge of Jackson’s sword.
Laugh this off, bitch, he thought.
He charged and hit her with an upward stroke that flung her backwards. Seventy-one flickered above her head in red numbers.
Yeah! That’s more like it.
“Like that, huh,” Jackson said. “After I beat you I’m going to use this ‘bad’ sword on you like a dildo. If I’m feeling nice I might even insert it hilt first.”
“Ooh, kinky,” the succubus said, standing back up with a smile on her full lips.
She threw another fireball. This time Jackson blocked it with his shield, taking no damage.
“But it’s your other ‘sword’ I’m interested in.” The succubus glanced down at Jackson’s waist. “Even if it looks a little small.”
What the fuck!
“Fuck you!” Jackson shouted.
He connected with another sideways slash and thirty-one flashed above Moréhâgg’s head.
“Fuck using my sword. I’m going to shove a hammer up there instead. No, one of my shields!”
Moréhâgg spun back around to face him. For all her exaggerated curves, her moves were as fluid as a dancer’s. She placed a long finger against her silky smooth cheek.
“You seem a very angry young adventurer. It’s time to use one of my special attacks. I think you’ll like it.” Her red eyes twinkled as she smiled at him. “How about it? Would you like to see my Puff-Puff attack?”
Come back next Saturday to see what Moréhâgg's special attack is. It's rather naughty...
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-2 Puff-Puff Setback
“Welcome to the lair of Moréhâgg the succubus, adventurer,” horny fetish-bait said. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you.”
“And ima gonna give your face a good turkey-slappin’ wiv my penis,” Jackson said.
Jackson had given up bothering to say anything sensible. It was a JRPG. No one had more than three lines of dialogue and it didn’t matter what he said anyway.
Demonic perv-magnet pouted at him. “Wouldn’t you rather I sucked it instead?”
Eh?
No time to ponder what he’d thought she said. He felt that strange swirly dislocation that indicated he was about to enter battle. His vision blurred and then cleared. He was standing in the same location, but everything around him appeared crisper, as if he was seeing it all at a higher resolution.
That included the succubus.
Jackson smiled and shook his head. So predictable. Didn’t matter what age the game was aimed at, the dirty old developers couldn’t resist sneaking in an obvious fetish fuel character for them and their audience of adolescent boys to perv over. Jackson used to be one of those adolescent boys before he’d grown up and realized how sad it was.
Moréhâgg was worthy of a good perv. She looked like filth incarnate. She possessed the mountainous silicone-enhanced peaks of a porn actress welded to an impossibly thin wasp waist—the kind of figure that could only exist in hentai. Her costume wasn’t exactly there to preserve modesty. Her shiny purple top revealed more cleavage than it hid, and the glossy material was stretched almost to bursting trying to contain her abundant breasts. The eye-shaped clasp that held the thing together at her chest looked like it might pop at any moment. Most of her flat belly, including the little dimple of her navel, was exposed. Her long lithe legs were covered in kinky fishnet stockings that ran down to a pair of sexy stiletto heels. The stockings were attached to her waist with suspenders.
Fetish fuel. Pure filthy fetish fuel.
She was also the area boss. Jackson could tell—she had her own battle theme.
That was the other stupid thing. Every time he went into battle, music would start playing even though there wasn’t a single musician in sight. Usually it was something wibbly-warbly that was meant to be rousing, but instead sounded like someone farting through a tin in a bath full of semen. Moréhâgg’s music was different—slow and slinky. Dirty.
Wait!
Jackson noticed she wasn’t wearing any underwear. He looked between her legs and saw a neat little bar of trimmed pubic hair and the shadowy cleft of her pussy.
This was…unexpected.
He remembered her words before the battle had begun. Had she actually said what he thought he’d heard her say?
Moréhâgg stood next to the throne and gave her long red nails a bored glance.
“Are you going to do something, or do I have to wait here all day?”
That jerked Jackson to attention. Yes, it was his turn.
He charged forwards and slashed Moréhâgg across her ample chest. He felt the impact and Moréhâgg doubled up. Thirty-one flashed above her head in floating red numbers. Then she stood back up straight and Jackson saw no visible mark his attack had hit her.
None of his attacks ever did. Jackson had slaughtered hundreds of stupid gonks in the ruins above and in the countryside leading up to them and his blade was still as pristine and shiny as if it had been freshly forged. Kids’ game. No blood effects allowed here.
“Is that all?” Moréhâgg taunted.
Jackson knew he’d damaged her from the numbers he’d seen flash above her head.
She looked down at his sword.
“No wonder. You’re still using that? Why didn’t you get the better one at the last town?”
“Waste of money,” Jackson muttered at his toes.
Never buy weapons. There was always the same or better hiding in the next chest. That’s how JRPGs worked.
The demon girl threw a fireball at him and he smoothly dodged it. He didn’t know how much health she had left. Probably not much. The fetish fuel enemies were usually pretty flimsy, but they often made up for it with lots of annoying status-changing attacks. Best if he finished this quickly. Time to use…
“Oh, are you going to use one of your special attacks?” Moréhâgg asked. Her eyes shone with excitement.
Who was this? She was the first character Jackson had encountered that seemed aware they were in a world constrained by weird videogame rules.
“Come on, let’s see it,” Moréhâgg said eagerly.
Jackson took up a stance with his sword. He hated this part.
“Aww, are you embarrassed,” Moréhâgg said. “You know it doesn’t work if you don’t call it first.”
Jackson knew. Unfortunately.
“Super Slash,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
Stupid Japanese anime conventions. She was right though, it didn’t work unless he called it first. Jackson hated that. It always made him feel like the dorkiest Dork McDorkien.
The succubus put a hand to her mouth and giggled.
Flames flickered along the edge of Jackson’s sword.
Laugh this off, bitch, he thought.
He charged and hit her with an upward stroke that flung her backwards. Seventy-one flickered above her head in red numbers.
Yeah! That’s more like it.
“Like that, huh,” Jackson said. “After I beat you I’m going to use this ‘bad’ sword on you like a dildo. If I’m feeling nice I might even insert it hilt first.”
“Ooh, kinky,” the succubus said, standing back up with a smile on her full lips.
She threw another fireball. This time Jackson blocked it with his shield, taking no damage.
“But it’s your other ‘sword’ I’m interested in.” The succubus glanced down at Jackson’s waist. “Even if it looks a little small.”
What the fuck!
“Fuck you!” Jackson shouted.
He connected with another sideways slash and thirty-one flashed above Moréhâgg’s head.
“Fuck using my sword. I’m going to shove a hammer up there instead. No, one of my shields!”
Moréhâgg spun back around to face him. For all her exaggerated curves, her moves were as fluid as a dancer’s. She placed a long finger against her silky smooth cheek.
“You seem a very angry young adventurer. It’s time to use one of my special attacks. I think you’ll like it.” Her red eyes twinkled as she smiled at him. “How about it? Would you like to see my Puff-Puff attack?”
Come back next Saturday to see what Moréhâgg's special attack is. It's rather naughty...
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-1 Puff-Puff Setback
And we're off with a new mini-serial...
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-1 Puff-Puff Setback
Ian Jackson swatted the last goblin-thing with his sword. It hit the ground, disappeared, the victory music played, and then Jackson was back in the stone corridor. The monsters left behind thirty-one pieces of gold.
Supposedly.
Jackson never saw it. He never did. The gold was always transferred automatically to his inventory. Currently he was carrying 1,936 gold coins. In his pockets.
That wasn’t all. He was also currently carrying twenty daggers, fifty arrows, seven swords, seven axes, three spears, eight wizard’s staffs, two hammers, three shields, five helmets, sixty assorted bits of armor, six pairs of boots, a whip, and seventy-two medicinal herbs. And this was before even considering the slimeballs and other weirdness he didn’t dare sell off in case it turned out to be useful later. In a rucksack.
It was kind of stupid when you thought about it.
Jackson tried not to.
It was a stupid world.
The corridor turned around to the right. He must be getting near the heart of the dungeon. Nothing had leapt out to commit suicide on the end of his sword for the last fifty paces.
The walls were made out of crumbling old stone, lit up at regular intervals with burning torches. Foul smelling water oozed out of cracks and dribbled down the walls. The corridor continued for maybe a hundred meters or so before turning right again. Jackson was more interested in the big wooden door situated in the right hand wall, about halfway down the corridor.
Such an obvious boss location, he thought. So predictable.
He walked down the corridor and stopped outside the door. It was big—more than two meters high and wide enough for two men to walk through abreast. It was also in considerably better condition than the rest of the ruins. The wood was bright red in color and the hinges were freshly polished brass.
This definitely led to the area boss.
Jackson paused and checked his status. The last fight had taken him up to level thirteen. He had some new skill points. He put them into Sword and noticed how the blade in his hand suddenly felt lighter. He cast Cure to take his health back to full.
A little over a week ago Jackson had been living a fairly ordinary, if dull, life as a software developer writing transaction processing systems for a bank. It was as interesting as it sounded, but it paid well and Jackson felt fortunate to have landed the job straight out of university. In evenings he spent his time playing console games and at the weekend he hit the bars to watch sports with the guys from work.
All that had gone to hell when he’d been sucked into a computer game.
It was a long story.
The ending was simple. Beat the game and he was out. No problem. Jackson was fucking shit-hot at computer games…
…but did it have to be a fucking Japanese Role-Playing Game?
Everyone knew fantasy JRPGs were the turdiest of turds in the gaming world. Well, apart from the old nerds that still went misty-eyed at the mention of Final Fantasy VII. At least in Tron, Garrett Hedlund had Beau Garrett in a skintight silver jumpsuit to drool over. Jackson had bug-eyed morons with memories that would shame a goldfish. On leaving the first village he’d managed maybe forty meters before a giant cucumber had sprung out of the undergrowth and attacked him with a spear.
JRPGs were fucking stupid, and he was trapped in one.
At least it would be easy. All JRPGs were. Kill monsters until you leveled up enough to kill harder monsters. Repeat until the end of the game. Whenever that was.
That was the problem with JRPGs, they dragged on for fucking forever. He knew from bitter experience. Those bastards had sucked up months of his life before he’d finally grown up and discovered GTA and real games.
Maybe he’d figure out some kind of strategic exploit. All these games could be broken in half once a smart player figured them out. The only problem was Jackson was still working through the dull-as-shit early stages. It had already taken him over a week to find this, the second dungeon.
At least he was at the boss.
Okay, let’s do this.
He pushed the door open.
On the other side was a large throne room. Gaily-colored silk banners adorned the walls. The whole room was a massive contrast to the rest of the crumbling ruins. A thick red carpet scrunched beneath his sandals as he entered the room. Impressive chandeliers and candelabra bathed the room in a warm glow. At the far end of the room a golden throne sat on a raised dais.
So predictable.
A sexy and extremely sluttily-dressed girl sat on the throne. Demon girl to be more exact. As Jackson walked up to the throne she stood up and purple-black bat wings unfurled from behind her back. As well as the wings she also had horns and a long slender tail with the classic spade-like tip.
Not a bad collection of pixels, if you were into that kind of thing.
“Welcome to the lair of Moréhâgg the succubus, adventurer,” horny fetish-bait said. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you.”
“And ima gonna give your face a good turkey-slappin’ wiv my penis,” Jackson said.
Jackson had given up bothering to say anything sensible. It was a JRPG. No one had more than three lines of dialogue and it didn’t matter what he said anyway.
Demonic perv-magnet pouted at him. “Wouldn’t you rather I sucked it instead?”
Eh?
A quiet start. Things will start heating up in part two next Saturday...
Jackson in HRPG-World: 1-1 Puff-Puff Setback
Ian Jackson swatted the last goblin-thing with his sword. It hit the ground, disappeared, the victory music played, and then Jackson was back in the stone corridor. The monsters left behind thirty-one pieces of gold.
Supposedly.
Jackson never saw it. He never did. The gold was always transferred automatically to his inventory. Currently he was carrying 1,936 gold coins. In his pockets.
That wasn’t all. He was also currently carrying twenty daggers, fifty arrows, seven swords, seven axes, three spears, eight wizard’s staffs, two hammers, three shields, five helmets, sixty assorted bits of armor, six pairs of boots, a whip, and seventy-two medicinal herbs. And this was before even considering the slimeballs and other weirdness he didn’t dare sell off in case it turned out to be useful later. In a rucksack.
It was kind of stupid when you thought about it.
Jackson tried not to.
It was a stupid world.
The corridor turned around to the right. He must be getting near the heart of the dungeon. Nothing had leapt out to commit suicide on the end of his sword for the last fifty paces.
The walls were made out of crumbling old stone, lit up at regular intervals with burning torches. Foul smelling water oozed out of cracks and dribbled down the walls. The corridor continued for maybe a hundred meters or so before turning right again. Jackson was more interested in the big wooden door situated in the right hand wall, about halfway down the corridor.
Such an obvious boss location, he thought. So predictable.
He walked down the corridor and stopped outside the door. It was big—more than two meters high and wide enough for two men to walk through abreast. It was also in considerably better condition than the rest of the ruins. The wood was bright red in color and the hinges were freshly polished brass.
This definitely led to the area boss.
Jackson paused and checked his status. The last fight had taken him up to level thirteen. He had some new skill points. He put them into Sword and noticed how the blade in his hand suddenly felt lighter. He cast Cure to take his health back to full.
A little over a week ago Jackson had been living a fairly ordinary, if dull, life as a software developer writing transaction processing systems for a bank. It was as interesting as it sounded, but it paid well and Jackson felt fortunate to have landed the job straight out of university. In evenings he spent his time playing console games and at the weekend he hit the bars to watch sports with the guys from work.
All that had gone to hell when he’d been sucked into a computer game.
It was a long story.
The ending was simple. Beat the game and he was out. No problem. Jackson was fucking shit-hot at computer games…
…but did it have to be a fucking Japanese Role-Playing Game?
Everyone knew fantasy JRPGs were the turdiest of turds in the gaming world. Well, apart from the old nerds that still went misty-eyed at the mention of Final Fantasy VII. At least in Tron, Garrett Hedlund had Beau Garrett in a skintight silver jumpsuit to drool over. Jackson had bug-eyed morons with memories that would shame a goldfish. On leaving the first village he’d managed maybe forty meters before a giant cucumber had sprung out of the undergrowth and attacked him with a spear.
JRPGs were fucking stupid, and he was trapped in one.
At least it would be easy. All JRPGs were. Kill monsters until you leveled up enough to kill harder monsters. Repeat until the end of the game. Whenever that was.
That was the problem with JRPGs, they dragged on for fucking forever. He knew from bitter experience. Those bastards had sucked up months of his life before he’d finally grown up and discovered GTA and real games.
Maybe he’d figure out some kind of strategic exploit. All these games could be broken in half once a smart player figured them out. The only problem was Jackson was still working through the dull-as-shit early stages. It had already taken him over a week to find this, the second dungeon.
At least he was at the boss.
Okay, let’s do this.
He pushed the door open.
On the other side was a large throne room. Gaily-colored silk banners adorned the walls. The whole room was a massive contrast to the rest of the crumbling ruins. A thick red carpet scrunched beneath his sandals as he entered the room. Impressive chandeliers and candelabra bathed the room in a warm glow. At the far end of the room a golden throne sat on a raised dais.
So predictable.
A sexy and extremely sluttily-dressed girl sat on the throne. Demon girl to be more exact. As Jackson walked up to the throne she stood up and purple-black bat wings unfurled from behind her back. As well as the wings she also had horns and a long slender tail with the classic spade-like tip.
Not a bad collection of pixels, if you were into that kind of thing.
“Welcome to the lair of Moréhâgg the succubus, adventurer,” horny fetish-bait said. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you.”
“And ima gonna give your face a good turkey-slappin’ wiv my penis,” Jackson said.
Jackson had given up bothering to say anything sensible. It was a JRPG. No one had more than three lines of dialogue and it didn’t matter what he said anyway.
Demonic perv-magnet pouted at him. “Wouldn’t you rather I sucked it instead?”
Eh?
A quiet start. Things will start heating up in part two next Saturday...
Friday, May 18, 2012
New manyeyedhydra mini-serial starting here this Saturday
I wanted to get back to the lighter tone of stories like "Slayer vs Succubus" and "Succubus Keep", and I picked up some inspiration from a discussion of JRPGs that was supposed to result in a short short story, but ended up being an average length short story. Rather conveniently, it breaks into four 1,000 word chunks and should fill the gap that would have been taken by previews for A Succubus for Freedom if the eponymous story hadn't delayed me finishing the whole damn thing by a couple of months (grr....)
I'm not sure whether this will be the start of a regular series, or just a one-shot. I threw someone into a JRPG and added an X-rated encounter because I am a sick and twisted individual that delights in taking previously harmless, if slightly dodgy, innuendo and pumping it up into full-blown hardcore filth. It should come across as an affectionate parody with lots of in-jokes, but if it devolves into something seedy and creepy, hopefully it will be entertainingly seedy and creepy.
Should start Saturday anyway, and I hope people enjoy it.
I'm not sure whether this will be the start of a regular series, or just a one-shot. I threw someone into a JRPG and added an X-rated encounter because I am a sick and twisted individual that delights in taking previously harmless, if slightly dodgy, innuendo and pumping it up into full-blown hardcore filth. It should come across as an affectionate parody with lots of in-jokes, but if it devolves into something seedy and creepy, hopefully it will be entertainingly seedy and creepy.
Should start Saturday anyway, and I hope people enjoy it.
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