Dm and the Dirty 20s
Copyright© 2025 by BreaktheBar
Chapter 40
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 40 - Shane has been playing 'The Game' for over two decades with his old college friends - D&D, but with sex. Now he's being asked to run 'a normal campaign' for some college coeds. It couldn't possibly happen again, right?
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction High Fantasy Magic Were animal Sharing Light Bond Rough Spanking Group Sex Harem Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Interracial White Male White Female Indian Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Exhibitionism Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Sex Toys Squirting Tit-Fucking Voyeurism Big Breasts Slow Violence
Renee’s story was a fictionalized account of how she had first discovered the shadow in her blood, which would later lead to her sorcerous magic. The improvised story was about a little girl who spoke with her friend in the shadow, a small cat that never grew up and whispered to her in the dark of night, keeping her safe. As the girl grew that cat remained the same until one day she mentioned her shadow-friend to a real friend - a boy from town. It didn’t take three days for all the children in the town to know she spoke with shadows, and another two of the children to call her Witch.
It was when they brought torches, to scare away the shadows, and they hurt her friend the cat that the little girl’s world truly turned upside down.
The story was dark and sombre but sweet, and as Elyse told it should paced back and forth down the length of the game room. In the end, as she improvised how the girl took the cat into her own shadow to protect it forever, she raised one corner of her embroidered robe and ran a thumb over part of it, then smiled and showed us at the table - hidden into the embroidery was the shape of a cat.
“Amazing, Elyse,” I praised her once she sat back down, starting to applaud and quickly joined by Tori and Rhia.
“I felt so bad for the little girl,” Rhia said, putting on a pouty face. “I’m so glad that she protected the shadow-kitty.”
Elyse was beaming and took a long swig of her drink. “Thanks, guys,” she said.
“Alright, I think a story like that definitely deserves a roll with advantage,” I said.
Elyse rolled twice, nailing a natural 18 as her highest. With her bonuses that made a 24.
The Coalblack family was enraptured by the tale spun by their shadowy guest around the campfire. Rowan, the runeworker husband, even joined in by spinning runes in the fire - it let out little puffs of smoke that briefly formed the shapes of a girl and her cat. When Renee finished her story they applauded her and said it was a good tale, with strong roots.
“What sort of story would you like in trade, Lady Shadow?” Rowan asked.
Renee hesitated - she’d come seeking information about the Burnt Men, but she was personally more curious about something else.
Elyse shot a guilty look at her friends across the table.
“Tell me a story about Houndsfang,” Renee said. “Of wolves and bandits, and the one who leads them.”
“Mm, this is a difficult story to tell,” Agate, the elder of the barbarian-wives, said as she settled next to her husband on the log they used for a seat. “Only the man himself could tell the full story, and we have only gained parts of it, so much of the truth may not be so true as we might think.”
“Tell me anyway, what you can,” Renee said, leaning in. “Before this man asks or demands something of us, I want to know the measure of his reputation.”
Rowan and Agate glanced at each other and then nodded. Rowan stood and piled more logs to the fire, and then took up his poker and began to draw in the coals while Agate told what they knew.
A boy when he arrived in the woods of the Eastern reaches of the King’s Way, it is said that Alexander Houndsfang had travelled the entire length of the old road. Born to a family who lived at the far end, some claimed he had been the son of an Innkeeper at the edge of the world. Or a Baron’s whelp. Or a simple farm boy. None were certain, for he never spoke of home beyond the fact that the rise of the Dark Lord had forced him west. The Inn, or the Barony, or the Farm, was gone.
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