Prologue

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Reluctant, Magic, BiSexual, Fiction, non-anthro, DomSub, Anal Sex, Violent, Transformation, .

Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: Prologue - Wrenched away from our dimension to a world familiar from roleplaying games, in a new and amazing body, the Quest begins... Featuring randy satyrs, dark dragons and a Faerie Queen or two.

"The blast of burning wind washes over you, searing lava heat caressing your skin, armor and clothes but dealing no damage whatsoever. You prepared for fiery dragon's breath, but the fire and heat are not the full extent of it, as Riana is struck by a powerful, sizzling bolt of lightning from the storm-laced exhalation, and the tornado-force wind blows Amdolf, Riana and Janetta down the tunnel, until their bodies strike unyielding stone with an unpleasant sounding crack. Ambar and Gondorian cling to their feet by main strength combined with a healthy measure of good luck," the image of the wingless dragon on the screen changed, its mouth opening and a streaming cone of lightning-cored fiery windblast enveloped over half the screen, blurry figures struggling within.

"Amdolf activates feather fall, landing lightly on his feet and casting a ray of freezing death at the Father of Linnorms. Polar ray."

"Janetta casts a heal spell on Riana, half of which is echoed back to her."

"Riana delays long enough to receive healing, then dimension steps behind the dragon and makes a touch attack with her rapier to drain blood."

"Gondorian blows the horn of triumph, if necessary moving to ensure that no one else is caught in the blast of sound, then rages and charges."

Ahem, I was delaying everyone, looking at the character sheet frantically for options, then sighed and typed, "Ambar the Righteous shouts out to Iomedae to smite the evil of this abomination, and calls upon the heavenly spirits to empower Kalindrar with speed, frost and the cold, relentless power of law, charging with smite evil, tumbling to avoid AOO. Kalindrar the holy avenger readies actions to counterspell, adding its wild-voiced exhortations to the noisy fracas in a strident voice."

All too often, what paladins did was charge right in. To do otherwise, like say, display too much forethought, caution, or employ 'let someone else go to melee with one of the most powerful monsters in the three nearby continents' warine ... cowardice, if you will, was simply out of character.

"Frost rimes against thick draconic scales as the cavern echoes with triumphant thunder, a solid blast of sound that causes the wyrm to flinch and recoil even as it buoys and uplifts your spirits. Fafnheir's bite almost wrenches Ambar's shield from his grasp, but the champion perseveres and charges through, leaking blood and flaming liquid poisonous bile from a shallow wound, to deliver a terrible blow - flinching back in time to avoid a virtual fountain of blood as a tower-shield-sized scale is rent in half. The linnorm's scream grows weak and fades away in a choked gasp at the life-draining touch of Riana's steel, to which it responds almost instantly with a slap of its massive tail, the appendage coiling around her in a bone-crushing embrace. The rest of its ire is quickly delivered against Ambar, clawing, goring and biting to terrible effect. A quickly-fading scintillating rainbow fog of chaotic arcane energy is the only visible display of colliding magics as both holy blade and dragon unleash dispelling abjurations that counter each other in a wrenching vortex visible only to those who can see such energies, which quickly falls in and collapses upon itself."

The screen changed again, showing Riana's tiny head bobbing from the massive constricting coils of its tail, and my character, Ambar, standing courageously before it, shield and sword raised, looking impossibly small when compared with the colossal dragon. The rent scale was pumping scarlet and Ambar's shield and armor were visibly dented, a trail of blood marking the path of his valiant charge, with bubbling pools of life-liquid and flaming drips of the dragon's poisonous saliva staining the cold stone floor. The graphics were incredibly detailed and looked almost realistic, especially on the large HD screen. The character sheet also auto-updated, and I managed not to wince as I saw a quarter of my character's hit points just ... gone.

"Ambar's roar joins that of Kalindrar as they hew away at the dragon-mountain before them, joyful despite the terrible pain of injury. The paladin knew that Iomedae was with him, with them all, and this day a great evil would fall forever." Time to die, I thought wryly - certainly, someone was going to.

"Wriggling out of the unwanted embrace with fluid ease - thankful yet again for her ring of free action - Riana's rapier flickers twice more, touching to drain blood, and she reaches down to her belt, tossing the first of several dozen prepared ice, acid and force bombs at the wyrm, cursing silently at her lack of a weapon capable of dealing any true harm to this legendary monster. Next turn she moves away and tosses another bomb."

"Jannetta moves in following Gondorian's charge, casting a heal spell on Ambar. If she can't, she summons a Ghaele knight in globe form."

"Amdolf fishes out and reads a prepared scroll from his haversack, dimensionally locking the area to prevent the dragon from fleeing, using his rod to quicken a black ray of life-draining power. Quickened enervation plus dimensional lock"

It was the last, massive, complicated battle of an epic campaign, which had lasted a full fourteen months of biweekly chat sessions, anywhere between three and five hours of exciting, graphic adventures at a time. Our DM was the most skilled I'd ever heard of, somehow rolling for us and adapting maps and graphics at impossible speeds, allowing for unmatched smoothness of play. Add excellent and reliable players who could write - I was probably the least articulate of the five of us, and I was in NYU on an academic scholarship suffering through prelaw - and this was the best, most rocking game ever.

The final battle required over an hour of intense fighting with nary a bathroom break, tension rising to a frightful degree before the climax, Gondorian going down twice and Ambar falling a mere two rounds before the dragon gurgled and fell to its dance of death, Janetta enduring the life draining touch of the Black Egg, even through her extant death ward, to toss the vile artifact down Fuffy's flaming gullet. The badly wounded war-wizard plane-shifted everyone away instants before the blowout, the destruction of a Lamashtu-influenced seed of Rovagug in the fallen elder linnorm's stomach cavity bringing down that section of the cave-network. It wasn't like you could corrupt anything of the bound Destroyer's, though if anyone could, I suppose it would be the Mother of Monsters.

Exhausted, we exchanged congratulations, felicitations and compliments, questions soon rising about what came next.

"Other than massive piles of treasure, of course," Riana's player wrote.

"Taking over the Linnorm kingdoms and war against Irrisen?" Amdolf's player speculated.

"Look to your dreams for answers, bwahahaha... !" our illustrious DM wrote and signed off, breaking the chat, leaving the image of a skeletal draconic skull staring at me. I gaped back at the empty yawning sockets and yellowed ivory fangs for a few moments in confusion.

"Yeah, right," I shook myself and went for a beer. The rent for the small studio apartment cost like the dickens, but I just couldn't stand the dorms and the fraternities were not my scene. It was later than I'd figured on, but time spent playing was usually fun, so that was never a surprise. A couple of hours spent on an essay due next Thursday and reading a bit ahead, with some left-over pizza, an apple and a banana for sustenance, and I was ready for bed. My girlfriend of two months had dropped me for a moneybags apprentice broker exactly ten days ago, so it was an empty bed. Since she'd also dropped out of school, I wasn't too upset about it, well, not after ten days and a lot of sage advice, mostly unwanted and unwelcome, from friends.

One of those friends was looking to be a little more friendly, and I fell asleep thinking of Lindsey's lovely face. A pre-med student with even less free time than I had, she was half Asian, probably Japanese, though thoroughly Americanized, with incredibly soft pale skin, and even softer straight black hair that almost gleamed in the light, which she wore down to her shoulders.

Of course, when I say 'fell asleep thinking of her', that means exactly what you were thinking if you're over thirteen - or is it eleven nowadays? Masturbating to images of that pretty face kneeling between my legs and giving me a world-class blowjob. Is there another possible interpretation?

Chapter 1 ยป