//------------------------------// // Torch teaches Anon not to suck at League and sex happens or something 2: electric cloppaloo// Story: And the Rest is (Browsing) History// by Wuten//------------------------------// Part 2 “What the fuck are you doing?! Wake up!” you hear a voice call to you from your great slumber. Wait, what was supposed to happen today? Something about vid—HOLY FUCK THE TOURNAMENT IS TODAY. Your eyes shoot open, bloodshot and all, and they stare right into the orange eyes of the one and only Torch, glaring back at you. “Fuckin’ finally, you woke up! Get your shit together, man! We have a tournament to win!” Torch hastily pulls the sheets down off of you, and you recoil from the cold air hitting your skin. “Damn Torch, what time is it?” She leaps up onto the bed, shaking you awake. “It’s 10:30, and the tournament starts in less than an hour!” Shit! You slept in! Nice of her to not wake you up at 4:30 like you thought she would, but still. Groggily, you sit up and stretch, yawning deeply. Better get ready quickly, Anon! Picking up a change of clothes, you head into the shower. Turning the water on, you close your eyes and let it wash the sleepiness out of your joints… Today’s the big day. You’ve practiced and refined yourself as much as you could in just a few short days, and with the help of Torch, no less. You’ve got this, Anon. Just have to… “I won’t disappoint Torch, no way.” “That’s the spirit, Anon!” you hear her exclaim. Did you say that out loud? “Also, hey, you want me to take care of that?” It’s at this point that you open your eyes to see Torch sitting there in front of you, mane half-wet, orange eyes staring up at you while pointing at… …Oh. “Um… Torch?” “Yeah?” “…Why are you in the shower too? Isn’t that, like, bad for your circuits or something?” She gives you a deadpan look, before groaning. “The fuck made you think that? You’d think that by now you’d notice that I’m not your average piece of tech…” She waves her hoof in the air dismissively, before pressing it against your waist, pushing you to the wall. “Now… you want me to take care of that there, or what?” Looking down, your body is obviously agreeing to let her “take care” of you, but… “Too slow, Anon. Taking your silence as a ‘yes’,” she says, before smacking the shaft lightly with her hoof and dragging her tongue along the bottom of it. Oh man… this early in the morning you don’t have nearly as much resistance as you would usually have… She gives you a sultry grin, before dragging her mouth along the side of your length, caressing the other side with her hoof. “You’d better win first place, Anon. Don’t disappoint me, now…” You give a quick nod, breathing in and out through your mouth as she works her own kind of magic on you. After what feels like hours of her just teasing you with her tongue and hoof, she finally moves to start taking your length into her mouth, never relenting even for a second. It looks like she wants you to release quickly… Gripping at the shower door, all you can do to support yourself from her sexual onslaught is press with your arms against the walls on either side. She’s too good at this; at this rate… “Torch, I’m…” Gritting your teeth, you can feel your legs start to give from the pressure she’s forcing upon your crotch. You’re not going to last, not like this… And that’s when she does it. She brings her head up, dragging her teeth ever so slowly along your shaft, before slamming her head back down to the base, sucking even harder than earlier, her teeth holding you in a vice. That’s your limit; you can’t take anymore. With a guttural moan, you bring a hand to the back of her head, thrusting the remaining length into her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise, but as your climax peaks and your seed travels down her throat, they slowly become more lidded and she looks up at you, giving you a wink. After a few moments, she pulls her head off of you, licking her lips and grinning. “Now you hurry and get ready, Anon. I’ll be spectating the game from here, so I’ll know if you fuck up and don’t follow what I told you to do…” Gasping for breath, you slide down the wall of the shower as she walks out, stepping onto the shower mat and levitating a towel to dry herself off, before trotting happily out of the bathroom. Sitting there, the water from the shower nozzle hitting the tops of your feet, you come to a realization that you should have a long fucking time ago: Torch is a fucking nymphomaniac, and you can’t do a damn thing about it… “Alright Anon, here you go, something to snack on for the way there!” she calls from the kitchen as you walk out of the bathroom. As you turn, you see her gallop towards you, carrying something in her hooves. “…Mountain Dew?” “Yeah. Also, this,” she nods as you take the bottle of green liquid, handing you a food item. “…Potato chips?” “Yeah! Should give you lots of energy for the game,” she grins up at you. “Are you mentally ready for this, Anon?” she asks after a few moments. …It’s the thought that counts? “Heh, thanks Torch.” You take the chips in your other hand, and give her a grin. “And yeah. I’m ready.” With that last exchange of words, you open the door to your apartment and walk down the steps towards your car. Nothing too special, but it gets you where you need to go and gas isn’t nearly as bad as it was eight years ago, so that’s good. “Hey Anon! I’m gonna be spectating your match, they’re gonna have a link to it on the tournament’s website!” Torch calls down to you. “You’d better win or I empty your fridge again!” Grinning, you open the door to your car and get in, before calling back. “You sure your body can handle all that food? It’ll go all the way to your ass!” Turning the key, you start the car, which drowns out any sort of comeback she’s giving you as you drive away… Always feels good to get the last word. It’s not something you get to experience very often with Torch. That idiot! Thinking he’s tough shit just from a weekend of training… And what was that off-handed comment about your ass all about? Seriously, if he knew the things you did to keep it looking pristine… Whatever. Not important right now. Right now, you need to make sure Anon doesn’t fuck up. Galloping to the computer chair, you open up a document and begin writing down all of your thoughts that come to you that you think Anon will need to know. He’s not in the high-ranked stuff yet, so you don’t have to worry about him too badly, but still. One loss and it’s out of the tournament for him. And you will NOT tolerate failure after wasting your weekend teaching that faggot how to play. There is too much at stake here not to make sure any sort of detail is missed… “Rule #1: Ranked is for tryhards, Anon. You’re not playing to have fun. You’re playing to win, and challenge yourself to prove you’re tough shit.” Simple enough. Next! “Rule #2: Pay attention you idiotic fuck. If you aren’t aware of your surroundings, you aren’t playing seriously. Watch your minimap, don’t run into enemy territory alone, and most importantly, communicate with your goddamn team.” Continuing in this trend, you manage to compose a comprehensive list of 35 rules for him. Should be easy enough, right? “Alright Anon. You’d better read through all this shit, because you have NO excuse not to win now.” Collecting it all into an e-mail, you send it off to Anon’s phone for him to read. The drive over to the tournament was terrible. What the hell was keeping the traffic backed up so much? Turning and parking, you quickly learn that this event is a LOT bigger to the locals than you expected… there are cars everywhere! “Damn… lucky I got here pretty early; otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten a parking spot…” Running inside, you realize that you should have probably been faster in getting in and out of the shower… But it was totally worth it in the long-run. “What?! What do you mean you can’t come?” your ears pickup on a disgruntled group standing to the side of the line, talking on a cell phone between the four of them. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t show up today, I’ve got work,” the voice on the other end replies. “Sorry guys, no-can-do…” “Fucking… ugh, alright fine,” the one holding the cell phone groans before hanging up. “Great. Fucking perfect.” Turning to them, you walk over. Your spot was the last in the long registration line anyway, not much point in saving the spot. “What’s the matter?” The four pairs of eyes turn to you, and raised eyebrows ensue. “Who the hell are you?” the one holding the cell phone earlier asks, sizing you up. “Name’s Anon. Sounded like you guys are having a teammate issue, am I right?” He peers at you, before sliding the cell phone into his pocket. “Yeah… what about it?” “Well, I…” Shit man, what are you doing? These guys are already a team, they probably have a backup player already— “You want in?” …Well, that was easy enough. “Is that alright?” “You any good?” one of the other teammates asks. He’s really tall… “A bit.” “You jungle?” “Yi.” The one with the cell phone from earlier nearly bursts out laughing. “Oh man… whatever. Fine, fine, he can join. But YOU guys,” he points the other team members, “You guys are showing him the ropes. We are NOT throwing the tournament because of this guy,” he points at you, before walking away. Eyeing him, you turn to the other three members. “What’s up with him?” “He’s in this for the prize; we all are,” the tall one replies. “I’m the Red God, by the way. This here is Yellow,” he points to the one to his right. “And he’s Blue,” he says, pulling the last one into a headlock. “What about him?” You point in the direction of the one that just walked away. “He’s the Purple God. He’s sort of the unofficial leader, I guess,” he says. “He’s the one that knows what he’s doing better than any of us. Except maybe Bluey here, but that’s on a case-by-case basis.” “Bluey” tries to escape the headlock, but to no avail. “Purple and I are brothers, along with Bluey here,” he grins. “Purple’s the youngest, but he’s always had a knack for playing the game.” “Sounds like an interesting family. What about…?” “Yellow?” Red looks down at the remaining team member, “He’s just a good friend of ours. Very good at playing Twisted Fate.” Well damn, sounds like this is quite the team… “So… am I in, then…?” Red thinks for a moment, before grinning down at you. “Yeah, you’re in. Just don’t feed and you’ll be fine with us.” “Deal.” “Hm… you said your name was Anon, right?” he asks. “Yeah?” He immediately shakes his head, before replying. “Won’t work. Not quite ‘fitting’ enough. You need a temporary name if you’re going to join us.” “Well… which colors are leftover?” He eyes you up and down, before staring at the Mountain Dew bottle in your hand. “The Green God.” …Well, could be worse. Hopefully these guys don’t suck, right? No time to be concerned with that now, though; the tournament is starting and you need to be ready!