The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Tolerant

Chapter Six

“It’s not really my thing, but if it’ll make you happy…” Count Brittney out.

“I’ll do anything you want me to do, sir. Anything.” Yeah, Emily might make things a little weird.

“Eh, sure, I’m up for whatever.”

So it was that Ashley accompanied him on his game session that Saturday. Truth be told, after the non-stop fuckathon of the past week, a chill night with his friends was exactly what he was looking for. He hadn’t even seen Derek and Logan since that last Saturday before break when he’d proved to them he had his gift.

They’d exchanged texts; Logan had had the idea in the interim that DJ could use his gift to snag them a third player so they could get a real D&D session going. They were all aficionados, but having half your party made up of NPCs had never really worked well for them. Logan figured if he could get Rachael to bend her bare ass over her brother’s lap and beg for a spanking, surely he could wrangle up another player. He’d suggested fetching the stripper he’d mentioned, Sydney, but DJ knew he just wanted an eyeful. And maybe to fuck her after, like he had with Derek’s sister.

DJ had tried to get by without it, but Derek pointed out, fairly, that after what he’d done last game night, he owed them. He was a good sport about things, all considered; having a hot sister had numbed him somewhat to the notion of her as a sexual being. DJ was nevertheless a bit self-conscious so he conceded, and not wanting to just go door to door to find someone who played, he started asking the folks he knew best.

After an enthusiastic blowjob, he spent Saturday morning tutoring Ashley on the basics so they wouldn’t have to waste the whole session tutoring her. It turned out her older brother used to play and she’d picked up a few things. They were supposed to have characters ready, so he made a half-orc paladin named Kram, a devout servant of Asterius determined to overcome his lesser orc nature. Ashley, meanwhile, crafted an elven sorceress named Asaleth, a Chaotic Neutral trickster who flew by the seat of her pants.

Then she sucked his cock again.

“So am I meeting your friends now as, like, your girlfriend?” she asked. DJ didn’t recognize that dangerous quality in her innocent tone.

“Oh. I don’t know, I guess I hadn’t really thought of us in terms of a label or anything,” he said sheepishly. He had, in fact, been pondering along those lines, though the question was more one of which, if any, of the girls he’d been fucking might qualify as a girlfriend. Ashley had been after him relentlessly, interrupting him whenever she felt like it with a cock-hardening sext message or a dirty picture of herself. Emily, on the other hand, had been insatiably devoted to her submissive fetish—the girl hardly left him alone, and he was certain he could have her down here with but a snap of his fingers. Still, it didn’t feel like a relationship so much as it was just great sex on demand.

Then there was Brittney. He and Brittney had spent a lot of time together lately, and had had that incredible day yesterday just lying around making out, culminating in some of the best sex he’d ever had. She was sweet, and beautiful, and just plain nice to him. But she wasn’t aggressive about it, like Ashley and Emily. He still wasn’t sure if she actually liked him or just tolerated him graciously.

(Of course, there were also the other dozen-odd women he’d fucked in the past few weeks.)

DJ returned his attention to Ashley and her question, deciding to play it safe for now. “Naw, we’re not, like, a couple, right? It feels too soon to be getting serious about it, trying to make stuff official.”

“Oh, I see,” she said. “Is that because you’re fucking that airhead down the hall and your kinky little work buddy slut?”

He grimaced. “Well, yeah—but you’re free to see other people, too. You know that right? Nothing exclusive—I’m not the jealous type.”

She gave him a long look. It was seemingly devoid of malice, but still left him sweating. “So like, you wouldn’t mind if I went down the hall and found Charlie and gave him a ride?”

“No, of course not. You’re free to do whatever you want,” he said.

“Cool, cool,” she said. Cooly. “So… do your friends know about you? About what you can do?”

DJ tugged at his neckline uncomfortably. “Err, yeah. Last time we hung out, before break, I told them.”

“How did they react?”

He sighed, a little embarrassed at how he’d abused his power. And his friend. And his sister. He told Ashley the story, who listened, titillated by the sordid details. She asked lots of little questions—what Rachael’s ass looked like, what she’d said when she was begging, why he let Logan have her after instead of taking her for himself. He answered them all patiently.

“Just so I know, is this the kind of thing where I’m gonna have to wear a chain mail bikini and carry a plastic sword?” she asked when she finished, as it was nearly time to go.

DJ laughed. “Only if you want to. I’m wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt.”

Ashley settled for the same dress code, though admittedly her wide hips poured into her jeans and big tits distending her t-shirt still made it easy to lose oneself in staring. Which she encouraged him to do as much as he wanted, as usual.

They showed at Derek’s apartment right on time, sheets and dice in hand. Logan was already there, and already a third of the way through a 2-liter of Mountain Dew. “Ashley, this is Derek and Logan.”

“Sup guys. I’m DJ’s friend, Ashley. We’re not going out.” This declaration perked up Logan and Derek in a hurry, even as it drew a reflexive glare at them from DJ. Hopefully her funk blew over soon.

The group made chit-chat and got settled in, the usual what’s-your-major where-ya-from stuff. When her back was turned, Logan pointed pretty blatantly to Ashley’s rack and mouthed an appreciative “DAY-UM” to DJ, followed by a thumb’s up that evaporated the moment she looked back.

They began the game. Derek was DMing. Kram, Asaleth and Logan’s halfling rogue, Barxes, intrepid heroes all, had arrived in the small village of Brendleton and, as heroes always seemed to, began at the tavern.

“A citizen of Brentleton approaches your table,” Derek narrated. “He looks somewhat troubled, and—”

“Does he look hot?” Ashley asked.

“Does he look rich?” Logan asked.

“Logan, no, he doesn’t look rich, more middle class.”

“Middle class? Almost nobody was middle class in Medieval times.”

“Well this isn’t Medieval times, it’s a fantasy game, so shut up about it,” Derek said, exasperated. Ashley still watched expectantly for an answer to her question, so he rolled some dice for the man’s charisma score. “He’s pretty plain-looking, Asaleth. Can I go on?”

No one interrupted this time.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but notice by your dress that you are a group of adventurers, and I wondered if I might beg of your assistance. My name is Haskar, and I have great need of your skills,” said the plain-looking middle class Brendletonian standing before their table.

“You were noticing my dress, eh?” Asaleth said coquettishly, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. Her “dress,” was it were, was technically a robe, or what was left of one after her magical instructors had cursed her with an insatiable libido. Now, she always dressed to advertise, because one never knew.

“You are so fucking hot,” Barxes said, using his miniature stature to surreptitiously peer under the table and right up the elf’s abbreviated attire.

“Just ignore them,” said Kram. “Tell us of your plight, Haskar.”

The peasant told them the tale of the tribe of ogres who had been harassing the town of late. For so long, they had co-existed peacefully, the monsters demanding tribute from the townsfolk but never more than could be spared. It was a hardship, but one that could be endured. In recent months, however, they had begun conducting raids, taking valuables and sacred relics—and most recently, Haskar’s beloved, a woman named Vylyra. “She is the loveliest and kindest maiden in the realm, and I beg of you to return her to her family and I,” he said desperately.

“More lovely than me?” Asaleth asked peevishly.

“Um. Well, we’re in love, you see, so… it’s relative.”

She sniffed and turned away disdainfully.

“You offer us nothing and demand a great risk!” complained Barxes, slamming his heavy fist on the table, almost breaking the wood with his might.

“Logan, Barxes is a halfling—his fist is like the size of a plum. He has a strength penalty,” Derek countered.

“Nah, I decided to use the human barbarian I made instead.”

“You can’t change in the middle of a session!” Derek chastised.

“What, if Asaleth’s a nympho, I wanna be able to get it on that, and it’d be creepy with a halfling.”

An argument ensued, which Logan won by simply threatening to quit, ever classy. The game resumed, and with some nagging by Kram, the group accepted Haskar’s quest and set out to the ogres’ cave. It was a day and a half’s walk, and during the first night their camp was attacked by a wandering giant scorpion. They defeated it handily, using the battle to help Ashley learn the combat rules.

“I think I was stung by the beast,” Barxes said as they settled back down around their camp fire. “Mayhap someone will help suck out the poison before I am weakened for our confrontation with the ogres?” He looked plaintively to where Asaleth was sitting hunched over, her lean elven figure illuminated flatteringly in the fire light.

“I have some antivenom you can have,” Kram offered—perhaps a little too quickly, with his own look at the beautiful elf maid and her bewitching eyes.

“Feh!” Barxes spat. “My people do not trust your fancy potions. Our ancestral way has always been to suck the poison out! I see you do not hold to our traditions—Asaleth, what say you?”

Asaleth smiled, flattered at the attention. “Well, I suppose I know a thing or two about how to do this,” she said, approaching the burly barbarian with a saunter in her walk.

“My lady!” Kram gaped, scandalized. “Such a suggestion from such a fair maiden.”

“I can suck something out of you next if you’re a good boy,” she said, winking one pale green eye flirtatiously as she sunk to her knees in front of Barxes. “Now why don’t you show me where the ouchie is, big fella?”

“Whoa, hey there, this is just D&D, we’re not LARPing or anything,” DJ said as Ashley pressed her lips to the top of Logan’s thigh.

“What the hell is LARPing?” she asked. Logan just stared at the top-heavy girl squatting before him, trying not to drool.

“That’s where you act it out. We just declare what we’re doing in character—like a video game, except our voice is the controller and our imagination is the screen.”

“Wow, you have never been sexier than when you gave me that explanation,” she said sarcastically. “I happen to like acting it out a little. Logan doesn’t mind, does he?”

“Nuhhhh,” Logan replied. This was the first time he’d ever had a girl’s lips touch him below the belt. Even just the thigh was amazing—and this girl was so a full-on hottie!

“See? Now hush, we’re role playing.”

“I don’t wanna sit here and watch you faux blow Logan,” DJ said.

The paladin’s sermonizing began to grow tedious to the sorcerous, who was anything but moralistic with how she conducted the affairs of her body. As he stood by rebuking her for the misuse of her lips, she used them to form the words of a spell.

There was only a soft shimmer and a few barely noticeable twinkles about Kram’s head as her charm spell took hold. For all his valor, his mind was now putty in her hands. His irked expression suddenly faded and became one of affection at his dear, dear friend Asaleth and her promiscuous shenanigans.

“There now, you don’t mind if I give Barxes here a thrill, do you?”

His mouth twisted for just a moment before his compelled compassion for her won out. “I… suppose I don’t. I’ll just be over there, seeing to my horse.”

“No, stay. I feel safer with you here. Watching over me.” She batted her eyelashes at him and giggled.

“Oh. I… guess I could do that.” He shuffled his feet, watching her awkwardly.

“I think the stinger got me right in the ol’ love muscle,” Barxes said, raising his loin cloth to expose a cock befitting his enormous stature. It was nearly a foot long, veiny and menacing as it sat on its throne above a scrotum that look like a sack with two oranges in it.

“Dude, quit describing your dick already, we get it,” Derek said, rolling his eyes.

It was Asaleth’s turn to be mesmerized—or so thought Barxes as the lithe, silken-haired elf maiden took him into her mouth and wielded her tongue with a skill that must itself be magical. Yet in fact, Asaleth knew it was truly she who was in power here, that by the time this brute relieved himself of his seed, he would be in her thrall in perpetuity with a certainty her spell on Kram should envy.

Ever the perfectionist, she slathered his cock with her bewitching tongue as Kram looked on helplessly. Enviously, she hoped. She threw her golden tresses side to side as she eagerly licked up and down his mighty greatclub then swallowed it deep into her enchanted throat. Barxes roared in barbaric triumph as he unburdened his coinpurse; Asaleth dutifully pressed her lips to his base and swallowed every drop with relish. When he at last finished—for such were the reserves of his incomparable balls, weighty with seed—”

“Last warning. Next time you describe your junk, I’m going to have a demon lord teleport in and cut it off.”

Anyway, he was quite satisfied. Kram, meanwhile, folded his arms across his chest and forced himself to observe out of concern for her well-being.

“You done being a whore-ceress?” DJ asked, annoyed.

“Wow, how long you been saving up that gem,” she replied with a smirk. “Besides, Kram liked it. That’s what the charm person spell says.”

“Hey, did I interrupt? Did I try to stop you? No. Now let’s just move on.”

Ashley picked herself up from where she’d described her blowjob, kneeling at Logan’s feet. He was rock hard. So was Derek. So was DJ. Hell, she was a little turned on herself.

“I’ll have Kram keep Asaleth company in her bedroll tonight, it being so cold and all.” She settled her broad behind onto DJ’s lap and whispered in his ear, just loud enough so everyone could hear. “That could’ve been you, you know.”

“I have my vows to Asterius, Asaleth—you know this. My heart cannot be taken by any one mortal woman, for I am pledged to them all, along with the men and children of the world.”

“Tell me you want me,” she breathed into the half-orcs light green ear. “I know you have your vows—I just want to hear you say the words.”

Charmed as he was, Kram had little choice but to give her this small boon—in word only, he reminded himself. “I… I want you.” In word only.

Asaleth deftly shed her robe, her lean, naked body pressed up against the knight’s hirsute but muscular bulk. “I know you do.”

The group slept it off—the scorpion poison in Barxes turned out not to have been so grievous after all—and proceeded with their journey in the morning. The ogres were numerous and determined, but the heroes—armed with Barxes’ rage, Asaleth’s arcane power, and Kram’s abiding faith in Asterius—won out, hacking their way through wave after wave of the stupid brutes.

At last, they got to the heart of the lair—where of all things, a necromancer, cloaked in black robes revealing naught of their wearer but his gaunt, almost skeletal claws, awaited them! Bound helpless on the altar to his fel deity was what was unmistakably the personage of Vylyra, Haskar’s beloved. In the gloom, they could make out only her presence, and that from her feeble struggles at her bonds, that she yet lived.

“Aha! So this is why the ogres have become so brutal of late!” Kram cried. “Driven to it by a blasphemous fiend! Today, it ends—we will put a stop to your tyranny!”

“It’s necro-bashin’ time,” Barxes taunted, hefting his two-handed axe.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Asaleth said.

Ashley excused herself to the second-floor bathroom; the downstairs one was right off the main room and she had a shy bladder. Once they were confident she was out of earshot, Logan immediately gave DJ the third degree. “Dude, I can’t believe you’re not tapping that! That girl is hella stacked, pretty face, got that pale kinda-goth without being too-goth, ya know? She’s even willing to play D&D with you—that’s a rare breed, Deej.”

“Be nice if she was more interested in playing than she was in making you two morons drool over her,” Derek said snidely. “It’s been five hours and we haven’t even finished the dungeon part yet.”

“Screw you, man—we finally have a third player and it’s a big-titted hottie who gets off on being an in-character slut. Don’t you fuckin’ dare ruin this for me,” Logan said hotly.

DJ was just about to ask him what had ever happened between him and Rachael—if he could just find the words to bring it up without directly calling attention to the fact that their hookup had only happened because the spanking had gotten her so turned on she’d practically dragged Logan into her bed.

Then, before he could manage it, the front door open and in Rachael came with her usual Saturday night load of laundry. Cute Rachael, Derek’s skinny little sister, a college freshman with her pixie-like face, perky little breasts and impossibly tight butt. Having seen it bare and reddened just made it impossible not to picture it as soon as he saw her. DJ blushed without realizing it.

“Hey guys—don’t mind me. I’m just here to bum laundry. Oh, hey DJ. Long time no see. Hi, Logan.” Her tone towards DJ had been pleasant, friendly even; when she turned to Logan, it was pure ice.

“Heya Rachael,” he said awkwardly. “How’s things? How’d your mid-terms go?”

“Pretty good—mostly A’s, couple B’s.”

“Couple B’s—just like you, Rach,” Logan said impishly. He was the only one who laughed. Derek glared at him for the reference to his sister’s boobs, and Rachael just rolled her eyes and made for the washing machine and started loading her whites. Her frosty demeanor told DJ everything he needed to know about whether or not things had gone anywhere with Logan after their impromptu hook-up.

Ashley came back downstairs a moment later. “Hey Ash, this is Rachael, Derek’s little sister. She’s a freshman this year.”

“Oh hey—I’m Ashley,” she said, smiling brightly as Rachael did in turn. “DJ’s told me so much about you.”

Rachael’s smile faltered as she took Ashley’s meaning, and she blushed. Derek slugged his friend’s arm irritably. “You told her about that? Fucking hell, man—don’t spread that shit around. I haven’t been going around telling people I have a friend with a weird super power.”

“Sorry,” DJ apologized. “I didn’t tell anyone else. I won’t. Sorry, Rachael.”

“Damn shame—it’s a good story,” Ashley said, settling back in at the table. “Even if certain aspects of it appear to have been exaggerated.”

Rachael’s eyes narrowed as she turned away from the washer to face them. “And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“C’mon, ladies—leave her alone, Ashley. I feel bad enough as it is, OK? Let’s just get back to the game, OK?”

“Fine with me,” Ashley said, ignoring the glare Rachael let linger on the back of her head before she went back to her laundry.

“Let those words be your last!” cried the necromancer as he prepared a spell. Lightning arced from his finger tips at the heroes, who dove for cover and only narrowly evaded the attack. A pitched battle ensued as the warriors tried to hack their way through his stone-like protective spell, then tried to sort out which one of a group of identical illusory images was the real necromancer.

Barxes and Asaleth were grievously wounded and Kram hurt more than a little, but it was their foe who lie dead on the floor of the cave at battle’s end. Kram used the last of his gifts of Asterius to restore health to his comrades before remembering the captive bound on the fallen necromancer’s altar. The holy knight rushed to the altar and severed her bonds with his knife. She was alive! In fact, aside from her fright and a little bruising from her captivity, she was in good health.

“So is she hot?” Logan asked.

“We know she’s not rich, unless she’s slumming with that Haskar guy,” Ashley quipped.

“Yeah, she’s attractive—long brown hair, healthy tan, pretty face, nice body,” Derek said.

“Say,” Ashley said, looking over to Rachael where she was sitting on the couch killing time on her phone. “Do you wanna join us? You could play Vylyra.”

Rachael had been listening enough to note that the offer came immediately following the flattering NPC’s description, and interpreted the invitation as an olive branch after Ashley’s bitchy insinuation earlier. “Oh, it’s cool—I don’t really know the game. Thanks though.” She smiled, mollified.

“Oh, c’mon, I didn’t know it either—it’s easy. Come on, hang out with us.” She smiled sweetly. Something about Ashley and her sweet smile tickled something in the back of DJ’s mind.

“Well… oh sure, what the hell,” Rachael relented, coming over to the table and sliding a chair on the opposite side of the table from Logan with a certain deliberateness.

“She’s not really an adventuring type,” Derek said. “I don’t have stats for her. Besides, we’re mostly done—just gotta turn in the quest and get XP.”

“Well if there’s no more fighting it won’t be a big deal if she doesn’t have stats. Besides, if she needs them, you guys are pros—I’m sure you can help her fake it,” Ashley said. So they did, and after a short bit of catch-up to fill in Rachael on the happenings, they resumed.

“Thank you ever so much for rescuing me,” Vylyra said in a lilting, melodious voice.

“It was nothing, fair lady,” Kram said gallantly, offering her his arm to steady her. She accepted graciously.

“Wow, you know, Vylyra, you are way too hot to be with a loser like Haskar, if you don’t mind my saying so,” said Asaleth.

Vylyra giggled self-consciously. “Oh, well, I’m sure he’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

“No, I’m serious—you’re top quality goods, doll face, a total babe—you belong with somebody more your calibre. Somebody like my man Kram, here—now Kram, he’s all man.”

“Half man, half orc,” Barxes said, barking a laugh.

“All man where it counts,” Asaleth retorted.

“This base line of banter is most perverse,” Kram chastised. “I should like to hear no more of it.”

“Oh fine,” Asaleth said. She waited until the paladin turned his back, then she sent her magical tendrils of manipulation into his mind, charming him once more!

“What!” Kram barked indignantly. “Again?!”

“Lower your voice, Krammy dear,” Asaleth commanded evenly.

“… Very well,” said the sullen, ensorcelled paladin. Softly.

Barxes and Vylyra laughed to see him so easily cowed; Asaleth did not share in their mirth. She looked seriously to Vylyra. “Now, I want to see you ditch that loser boyfriend of yours for my boy Kram here. Kiss him.”

Vylyra’s sun-kissed cheeks reddened further. “I… I couldn’t! I’m in love with Hagar!”

“Haskar,” corrected Barxes.

Vylyra looked to the stout warrior. “Haskar, right. In love with Haskar.”

But the momentary distraction was all Asaleth needed to unleash yet another charm spell, this time targeting the tawny young peasant girl. Her resistance was as brief as it was pointless, and then she was as enthralled as Kram.

“Now. You two, kiss.”

“What about me?” Barxes whined as the other two dragged their feet, slowly closing the distance between them. “Barbarians need kisses too, ya know.”

“I hope they need more than just that, because this whore-ceress has needs of her own, stud.” Asaleth sauntered over to him, gripping his chest hair in her fingers and pulling him up against her, where she—

By this point, there was a general uproar at the table.

“If I’d known this was the kind of thing you guys were doing I never would’ve agreed to play!” Rachael said testily. Derek was trying to insist that Ashley’s spells didn’t let her do what she was trying to do with them, that charm wasn’t the same as mind control. Logan was silent, grinning passively at Ashley as she settled down into his lap and started kissing his neck as she murmured sweet nothings to him.

DJ just clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as he watched Ashley. “ENOUGH!” he shouted, pounding his fist on the table in a fair imitation of mighty Barxes. Several dice rattled to the floor. Everyone fell silent.

Except for Ashley, that is. “What’s wrong, asshole?” she asked innocently. The same innocent tone she’d had earlier that day.

“You’re making out with my skeezy friend, that’s what’s wrong!” he yelled.

Logan tried to protest it, but Ashley put a finger to his lips and silenced him. “I thought we were free to fool around with other people. Isn’t that what you said earlier? You didn’t want labels, thought we should both be free to do whatever we wanted with whoever we wanted?”

“That’s… that’s not…”

“That’s not what? Not fair? Not fair that you get to fuck any girl you want but I have to wait for your cock to be available?”

The others watched the couple’s fight like it was a reality TV show. “Not right in front each other though!”

“Oh? That’s weird, I remember you sticking it in Cara at the library right in front of me. In my roommate, also right in front of me.”

“You were the one who got me to do those things!”

“Oh, it was all me—your cock just decided to get hard and slide into their mouths on its own, just ’cause I said so? Then how do you explain that Emily girl, and Brittney, when I’m just outside your door? Those don’t count either, I guess?”

“I… they…”

“Hey, I get it. If you tell me you don’t want me to fool around with Logan here, you know I can’t do it. You have all the power. So it’s up to you whether you’re the only one who has to be a good little citizen, or if you’re going to be a selfish hypocrite.”

Ashley was literally trembling with how hard it was to say those words. It came so close to saying DJ was wrong, to telling him he couldn’t do something. It wasn’t though—not technically. She was a lot of things, but she wasn’t the kind of evil bitch who would defy DJ. Ashley knew that if he gave her the slightest rebuke, she’d crumple.

DJ was quiet a moment. What she was saying was a totally valid criticism—why should he get to fuck Emily and Brittney and whoever else while she sat around waiting for him? How was it fair to let her do so much for him then keep her pussy on a leash? Totally valid indeed—he just wasn’t used to having his actions subject to criticism.

But then he looked at Logan, chubby, sleazy Logan, and scowled. “I… I don’t want to share you.”

Ashley slid closer to him, her ass leaving Logan’s crotch and ending on his knee. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said I don’t want to share you,” he repeated hotly.

“So does that mean I’m your girlfriend, or that I’m your sex slave?”

“Shit that’s hot,” Logan said. They ignored him.

DJ frowned, thinking of all the action he’d have to give up to make good on the first option. Not just Emily and Brittney—a whole campus, a whole world full of hot chicks he could fuck whenever he wanted. An endless pussy buffet, all his.

But then, he thought of the second option. To look this girl in the eyes, the first girl who’d ever really chased him, who loved sucking him off, who loved having him do whatever he wanted to her body, who was adventurous and crazy and just the right amount of twisted…

To tell her he thought of her as his play thing.

People would put up with anything he dished out, but he still had to be able to tolerate himself.

“You’re my girlfriend.”

Ashley stood up and walked around the table to him, leaping onto his lap and thrusting his tongue in her mouth so fast he had to think to open it to let her past his teeth. She kissed him with a wild passion while the others watched, and he was sure she loved it just that way.

Finally, she came up for air. “That’s my good boy,” she said. “Now… I want to see Kram kiss Vylyra.”

“What?” He blinked. “But you just said…”

“DJ, I know you’re not a normal kind of guy, so I don’t expect you to be a normal kind of boyfriend. I like that you have this power of yours—I fucking love it, OK? I don’t want to control you or make you give it up for me. I just wanted to know you were jealous of me. Now let’s play the game, and you trust Ashley like Kram trusts Asaleth. All right?”

“Blindly, you mean?”

She beamed at him. “I said kiss her.”

After a brief pause for some soul-searching, Kram decided that his god would not put a woman as magnificent as Asaleth in his path if he expected him to hold to some out-dated prescripts. Chastity? A farce! If Haskar was too weak to maintain his woman’s allegiance, he did not deserve her. Besides, it would make Asaleth happy, and that was reason enough for him.

He approached Vylyra confidently, gripping her shoulders in his hands just a moment before pulling her lips against his. Her kiss was hesitant, tepid; her heart was not in it, ’twas clear.

“I said kiss him, you little prude,” Asaleth said, slapping Vylyra’s shapely derriere through her peasant skirt. “Not like he’s your cousin—like he’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.”

Vylyra’s indecision slowly melted in the face of what must be, and she renewed her labial assault, this time holding nothing back. Her arms wrapped around this mighty specimen of manhood and she writhed her tongue against his. Though it was Asaleth whose spell she obeyed, it was somehow this man, this man of god with his holy gifts, whose displeasure she feared.

“Again? I mean, this is my sister, dude, and it’s becoming a habit now. Are you seriously going to make out with her right in front of me?”

“Tell him to get lost—I’m the DM now,” Ashley said.

DJ hesitated only a moment, but the feel of Rachael’s ass in his hands and Ashley’s big tits pressed into his back decided for him. “You heard the lady, Derek. You don’t wanna see baby sis get violated, now’s the time to hit the road.”

Derek frowned; a few bitter insults came to mind. Then again, it was DJ; some things just had to be tolerated. He just wished one of them wasn’t seeing his sister get treated like a piece of meat. Again.

Resignedly, he retired upstairs to his room.

“Now it would amuse me to see you strip out of your clothes like a harem slave, Vylyra.”

With a resigned sigh, Vylyra accepted that she must please this hateful woman, this seductress who—for all her charms—craved not flesh, but power. She was a magnificent creature, truly—or so said the magic whispering into her mind, corrupting all thoughts of Asaleth to those of admiration and obligation.

A spell from Asalath started a tune coming out of nowhere, instruments the likes of which the peasant girl had never before encountered, with a sensuous rhythm and bawdy lyrics that she blushed to hear. Even had the lyrics been tame, she’d have done so, for now she found herself swaying to the beat, hips sashaying from side to side as she performed the way she imagined a sultan’s sex slave would do.

First went her blouse, revealing plump, luscious breasts bulging in the confines of her simple brassiere; her skirt followed, displaying for all the wide-set hips she had heretofore shown only to Haskar, and even then, only once after she imbibed too much wine at the Harvest festival. Her erstwhile beau would have envied them what followed, for he had never seen his beloved without even a stitch on; he had never seen her spread her cunt and rub at her tender clit, never seen her fondle her tits and mewl with need; never seen her fall to her knees, nuzzling at his pantaloons in unspoken pleading to be given access to their contents.

Asaleth was a generous mistress, however, and a few words from her were sufficient to coax the half-orc out of his own garments, albeit without the fanfare. His swollen member throbbed powerfully before her eyes; she was almost frightened by it, by what she knew was its purpose, by what she knew was its owner’s design for her young body.

“Suck him, you ignorant little peasant slut,” Asaleth said, slapping the backside of her head roughly. Vylyra wanted to strike the woman for it—wanted it so badly that for a moment it nearly broke the spell—but she knew it would displease the paladin and his god to have her do so. Humbly, the ignorant, slutty commoner took his sacred relic into her orifice; he smiled down at her, and she felt cleansed by his approval.

“Um, hey, what about me? Kinda getting a little blue balls over here, Asaleth.”

“Oh?” Ashley said. As Rachael knelt at DJ’s feet, giving him a loud but enthusiastic blowjob while the busty redhead looked on lovingly, she’d almost forgotten Logan was there. “Sorry, I was just getting to you. Here, Rachael—Vylyra—lay down on the table here.”

She pulled off of DJ’s cock and looked up. DJ wanted her to obey this girl, so obey she would. “All right. On my back, or front?”

Ashley grinned at the suggestion implicit in the question, not having considered it. “Back,” she said.

“You know I wouldn’t forget you, my sweet hunk of burly man-meat. In fact, I’ve saved the best part for you.” With a perfectly manicured hand gently guiding the charmed peasant girl by her wavy locks, she maneuvered her back to the altar, then had her lie down on her back.

“Barxes, did you know that our girl Vylyra here is a virgin. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

The barbarian laughed. “Trust me, this chick ain’t no virgin.”

“Oh, that’s right. You do get around, don’t you Barxes my sweet. Still, you’re never going to level up without getting more… experience, eh?” Her laugh sent chills down the spines of maiden and barbarian; only the paladin was unaffected. Kram was immune to fear.

“Now Vylyra, you just lean your neck back—there’s a good girl—and Kram, just go right back to what you were doing. She can’t move so much now, so you may have to do a bit more of the work.”

Asaleth was so kind, to dole out pleasure to her admirers so freely. Kram sheathed his naked sword in Vylyra’s gaping mouth; indeed, his presence stymied her mobility, so he himself had to handle the bobbing motions she’d been engaged in.

In essence, he began fucking her face.

Asaleth didn’t change her wishes at the desperate gurgles coming from the peasant, so he just kept up his assault on her throat.

“Now Barxes—your turn, my brave, beautiful beast.” She gestured to the treasure trove between Vylyra’s thighs, then returned her loving eyes to where the mongrel paladin was polishing his weapon.

Barxes had already plundered this treasure; he decided he was after fresh booty.

Vylyra squeaked and thrashed a moment as his stout shaft came for her booty, having expected to be boarded by more conventional means. It mattered not; Kram was good and well crammed into her mouth, and her objections found no voice. Indeed, she soon relaxed—such was the power of Asaleth’s magic and her fear of Kram’s god—and he took all the booty he could have wanted.

Rachael squealed helplessly around DJ’s cock as it stabbed into her mouth repeatedly. That wasn’t actually what was making her squeal, in fact. Sure, it was hard on her poor throat, being fucked like a pussy (and being so worried about hurting him that she was getting a crash course in conquering her gag reflex).

The squealing actually came from Logan’s dick in her ass. It, too, seemed to think the hole it had found was a pussy, judging by the pace it was striking. Having no lube, he’d just poured some Mountain Dew on his cock and shoved it on in. In fairness, it provided some lubrication, but she could already tell it was going to be horridly sticky before long.

Not that this was her big problem.

Ashley, meanwhile, sat nearby on the couch, jeans down around her ankles, bare-ass nude—when had she taken her clothes off? Rachael wondered dimly—and watching her boyfriend and her boyfriend’s buddy saw in and out of her at both ends, masturbating in a frenzy of moaning and panting, urging the boys to keep going, to go harder.

Like Rachael, they obeyed her. Because DJ wanted her to—that was the game they were playing, after all. She spread her legs, relaxed her throat and her ass, and waited for Ashley’s next order.

The heroes ultimately decided not to return to Brendleton. They had found the treasures stolen from the villagers in the necromancer’s lair, but Asaleth had said the adventurers had earned them, so they should just keep them. It was only fair.

Vylyra—poor, sweet, beautiful, simple, stupid, slutty Vylyra—couldn’t help but agree she had no place in Brendleton now. Who could want her, now that she had become such a low person? Haskar would want nothing from a woman leaking the fluids of barbarian and mongrel at both ends. She could not dishonor her family by returning to them as a woman who had been liberated only to give away that freedom to a sorceress in exchange for her permitting one of her men—then both of her men—to fuck her until she came, and again more times than she could count. She had begged for it, and she could not regret it. The bliss had been exquisite. No, her family would not want her; already, she could feel they had forsaken her to this new life as a property of the heroes. To their leader, Asaleth.

Soon, they went their separate ways. Asaleth and Kram hired a carriage to return them to their home in a nearby kingdom, his arm wrapped protectively around the enchantress who now manipulated him even without her magic. As a parting gift, she gave to them the sight of her using her mouth to pleasure Barxes, who was as ever eager to give the peasant an outlet for her gratitude. For her wantonness.

As she watched the carriage drive away out of the corner of her eye, never yielding in her enthusiastic fellation of the barbarian, she wondered if she would someday see her rescuers again.

She feared she would.

She hoped she would.