Too Much Love
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2017 by Tom Frost

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 6 - Nick Coyle grew up not knowing about the billion-dollar legacy waiting for him on his eighteenth birthday. Money isn’t Nick’s only legacy, though. A dark history of excess and tragedy hang over both sides of his family. With the world suddenly offering him too much of everything and only five close friends to guide him, will Nick survive?

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Reluctant   Romantic   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Rags To Riches   Tear Jerker   Sharing   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Light Bond   Rough   Sadistic   Spanking   Group Sex   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Swinging   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Sex Toys   Big Breasts   Size   Caution   Nudism   Politics   Prostitution   Royalty   Slow  

ThePennilessDM: Any chance Assault on Castle Wolfen might be released as open source? I’d totally run it for my group, particularly if it attracts lingerie models to the game.

“We should rest.”

Everyone turned to look when Sylvana spoke - not just for what she said, but the fact that she’d spoken at all. Since they’d gotten on the trail of the Wolfen, she’d spent more than half the time as a panther, tracking, fighting, and communicating the best she could. But, she was losing herself to the cat.

“Rest? We’ve got the wolfen king on the ropes.” Corva cleaned her khukris on the livery of one of the fallen guards. They’d fought a pitched battle to take the courtyard of the old mountain castle the wolfen had claimed as their own. Their self-styled king had set a dozen powerful brutes to face them, but withdrawn with his two mates deeper into the castle.

Sylvana gestured to Cedric, his arm bandaged. “We’re out of healing. And I don’t think any friendly monks are going to run to our rescue this time. Kiki, do you have any spells left?”

Kiki flipped through her spell book. “I still have ... sleep.”

“And I’m tapped out from the ambush,” Sylvana added. “I would be fighting with a stick.”

Corva glared at her. “You dropped out of panther form. Why did you drop out of panther form?”

“Because we need a rest,” Sylvana repeated. “And I’m already forgetting whether I’m a woman who’s turned into a panther or a panther who sometimes walks in the form of a woman.”

Cedric gestured to the high walls. “We can’t rest here. The king could pick him moment and snipe at us from the walls. We’d have to retreat back out into the valley.”

“He could have reinforcements coming,” Corva reminded everyone. “Or, he could slip off into the night while we rest.”

“What do you think?” Adora turned to Cedric.

“If he runs, we’ll track him. It’s what we do.” Cedric tested his wounded arm. “He might have reinforcements, but I don’t think he does - not close enough to get here by morning anyway. We killed his wolfen and we killed the wolves he called. What the druid says has wisdom. We should withdraw and finish this tomorrow.”

The battle-weary group withdrew to the woods outside the castle, tense and ready for an ambush that never came. When they’d retreated far enough, they made camp, set a fire, and ate. The wolfen were good enough trackers that they would find the party if they came looking. There was no point in going without.

Cedric and Adora took the first watch together. Sylvan might not be in her panther form, but she still found sleeping up in a tree more comfortable than doing so on the ground surrounded by the scents of other people. The cleric and the paladin might have forgotten she was there the way they spoke once the other two were asleep.

“Be careful tomorrow.” Adora warned. “I didn’t find you again after all this time just to lose you to some puffed-up wolfman playing king of the forest.”

“Were you looking for me? They wouldn’t tell me anything about you after they sent me away. I didn’t even know you’d joined the church.”

“All I’ve ever known is churches,” said Adora. “Compared to the snake-cult I grew up in, they’ve been very civilized. I thought joining the clergy would give me my best chance of finding you again.”

WolfGirl: How wrong is it that I was totally rooting for Max at the end of this?

Un-fucking-believable.

Max had only half-heard that Emily and Nick’s character had a history together when it was brought up at the beginning of the session. Romance in role playing games was always a tricky thing - any element that excluded all but one or two of the players was. And nobody wanted to watch two players pretend to make kissy-face.

There was a tension in the room when Emily said, “This is Cedric and Adora’s first chance to talk. Right?” It could have gone horribly wrong. But, it was a light touch and Emily turned out to have some acting chops. By the time the two characters had settled into their separate bedrolls, the other models were all watching with keen interest. Max bet they all wished they’d thought of having a backstory with the billionaire paladin now. Kiki looked particularly enthralled.

Three weeks and a lifetime ago, Nick had asked Max what he should do with his new-found wealth. Max had answered, “Whatever you want. You could probably pay supermodels to play D&D all day with you if you wanted.” It had even become the watchword for being idly rich. But, somehow, the idea had stuck. And now, here they were.

“So, this might be a good time to introduce everybody to Max,” Hall said.

At first, Max stood and watched the shoot, not really registering that Hall was talking about him. Maybe there was a character called Max in this. Maybe it had even been loosely based on him. But, then Nick was standing up and gesturing to him. “Everyone, this is my best friend since Kindergarten, Max. The first time I played Dungeons and Dragons, Max was my DM. We’ve been playing together ever since.”

Someone gave him a little push forward and stepped forward into the shot. All four models said “hi, Max,” pretty much in unison.

“Hi, everybody,” Max managed while trying to glare at Nick. “What’s going on?”

“Max, do you remember a dragonkin warlord named Draegeth Nagor?” Hall held out a sheet of paper.

“Yeah. He was...” Max glanced down at the paper he’d been given. It was a character sheet with the words “Wolfen King Garaworn” at the top. “Oh. Seriously?”

Nick laughed. “Max, will you be our Big Bad for this part?”

Max flipped the page over to read more on the back. “Oh, hell yes ... as long as you all don’t mind dying horribly.”

Hall rose and shook his hand. “Ladies, I need to sidebar with Max. When we come back, he’ll be playing the wolfen king and he’ll be doing his best to kill all of you.”

They gave him some good-natured booing as he left the room. It was all Max could do not to grin like an idiot. Draegeth Nagor had been one of the most fun things he’d ever done in the game. A real-world blackout, a beloved character, and a series of abysmally bad dice rolls had conspired to ruin Max’s day, but Nick had offered to let him play the bad guy until they got somewhere he could roll a new character. He’d spent the better part of the next two days tormenting and challenging the other players. It turned out Max had a gift for playing evil.

That blackout was also probably when Arwen and Lev had consummated their long-resisted relationship. Nobody talked about it, but they acted very differently during and after that blackout than they did before. For all the ribbing Max, Nick, and the twins gave each other about pretty much everything, nobody talked about that. So, Max was doubly glad that blackout was now being reclaimed as a good memory.

Of course, with all the attention Nick was getting from Kiki and Emily, he might have forgotten about Arwen all together. Arwen was pretty, funny, smart, sarcastic ... Hell, Max had fallen in love with her the same as everyone else in their group even knowing full well she had no interest in him. But, he suspected that a direct application of a lingerie model or two might be just the salve to heal any lingering heartbreak Nick felt.

After a brief conversation with Hall, Max returned to the conference room as Wolfen King Garaworn, first of his name. His foot soldiers were all dead. His howls in the night had gone unanswered. Only his mates still stood by his side. But, he wasn’t out of tricks yet.

He let the party choose their time of approach and, when they found the gates of the castle thrown wide open, he let them waste their time searching for traps. The humans who had manned this castle before Garaworn took it from them had lacked the imagination to set proper traps and Garaworn was too undermanned to set them last night. But, he’d improvised. Every horse and cow within the castle walls had been moved to the main courtyard and left there untethered.

When he reached the courtyard, Cedric called out, “Wolfen King, we have come to make you answer for the murders you sent your men to do in Flyspeck and Freeport-on-the-Ylec, for the attack on...”

“I am here, paladin!” Garaworn called out from the end of the courtyard. “Will you approach and treat with me?”

“Don’t do it,” Kiki stage-whispered. “It’s a trap.”

Cedric shook his head. “I have to. Honor demands I treat honestly with those who have not proven themselves treacherous. While I do, spread out around the edges of the courtyard. Get into range so that your spells will hit him if you have to cast.”

“I should go with you,” said Corva and Adora simultaneously. After exchanging a look, Adora said, “We both represent the church,” and Corva added, “I don’t have a good ranged attack.”

“Spread out, but stay back. Be ready for treachery,” said Cedric. Then, he called out, “Where are the others, Wolfen King?”

“Surrounding the castle as we speak ... or entirely imaginary. What difference does it make now, paladin? Come and treat with me.” Garaworn called.

The paladin said something to his group that Garaworn couldn’t hear over the incidental sounds of the animals, then strode across the courtyard. His companions spread out, moving forward along the walls. Garaworn schooled his features, waiting until they were halfway across the courtyard. “Hold. Only you, paladin. Come forward.”

Cedric gestured to his companions and strode forward. “Speak, then.”

“I have a hostage,” said Garaworn. “The crown prince of the Lower Ylec Province. He rode out to slay me and mine. Leave and I will send him home with you. Attack me and my mates will slit his throat.”

Just then, one of his mates gave a sharp yip of pain. She wasn’t, as Garaworn had suggested, down in the dungeon with their prisoner. Along with her sister-wife, she’d been hiding on the high walkway that surrounded the courtyard. A quick glance at the approaching party told Garaworn that the rogue had vanished.

“Treachery!” he and Cedric shouted at each other. At the same time, his other mate fired her crossbow from cover, catching the druid in the shoulder.

Garaworn howled - not the howl that called his wolf allies. He knew that wouldn’t help now. This howl was more primeval, meant to strike terror in the hearts of all who heard it.

The effect on the party was mixed. Humans who clung to their petty gods were frequently too stupid to frighten. On the other hand, its effect on the cows and horses was immediate and gratifying. They panicked, stampeding in the enclosed space of the courtyard.

Garaworn had no time to savor the effect, though. The paladin drew his sword and the battle was joined. He threw himself on the holy warrior in a flurry of claws and fangs. He battered at joints and hinges, seeking a break in the man’s armor. When they grappled, he headbutted the man, catching him on the exposed cheek and drawing blood.

“Fireball!” shouted Kiki.

Garaworn shifted, trying to put the paladin between himself and the courtyard, but felt only a wash of heat. The panicked animal sounds changed in timbre and his nostrils filled with the stench of charred meat.

“Kill the annoying, red one! She’s a wizard!” Gareth called out and dodged past the paladin, running around the corner to where one of his mates was locked in mortal combat with the rogue. Her muzzle and chest were striped with blood and even as he charged to her defense, the rogue struck a mortal blow, cutting her throat.

“Fiona!” He howled and threw himself on the rogue. With the sound of rushing footsteps coming up the hall, he knew the day was lost, but he would die with the accursed rogue’s throat in his teeth.


“Well done.” Paige hip-checked Max as she came up next to him at the craft services table. “Very arch.”

Max smirked as she poured herself a glass of white wine. “You knew he was going to do that. Didn’t you?”

“It was in the production notes,” admitted Paige. “I hope you weren’t too traumatized.”

“No. It was fun.” Max poured himself a diet soda. “I’m not sure how funny it was, though. Are you going to be able to use it?”

Paige shrugged. “We’ll see in editing. We may have to lean more heavily on the confessionals than we thought. But, honestly, this whole video is kind of a weird fit for us - more thinky-funny than funny-funny. Still ... it might be good for us.”

“But it might be bad for you?”

Paige shook her head. “I doubt that. It might not catch on, but not everything we do does. And it’s funding a couple of videos we do want to make. So, even if it’s bad, it’s probably good.” As other members of the crew started to file into one door of the room, she tilted her head towards the other door. “Do you think we could talk somewhere else?”

An odd frisson went up Max’s spine. “Sure. Lead the way.”

In a darkened part of the office, she pulled a second chair into a cubicle and sat down. Max sat in the spare chair. She leaned in to speak quietly. “So, are you sure you don’t have a future in Internet comedy? I liked working with you.”

“I ... think Nick has other plans, but he won’t tell me what they are until Monday.” Max considered the question. “If Outside Joke is doing something...”

“I’m not sure how long I’m going to be working with Outside Joke,” said Paige quietly. She took a deep breath. “I’ve been having some ... creative differences with Stephen and wanted to try some stuff on my own - less mainstream stuff. I’m going to put up a Kickstarter for it, but once I do, Stephen’s going to be pissed.”

Max sat back and considered her. “If you’re asking about money, you should probably be talking to Nick.”

Paige shook her head. “No. I’m pretty sure I can raise the money. A lot of people come to the site specifically for me. I just like working with you. You’re smart. We have similar senses of humor. And I didn’t have to waste time convincing you that you should do what the little blonde girl told you. Those are rarer qualities in a guy than you might think.”

Max laughed. “I would also have accepted ‘man, ‘ by the way.”

Paige blushed and lowered her eyes. “Sorry. I’m kind of bad at the flirty choices, too.”

“Wait. You were flirting... with me?” Max shook his head. “That doesn’t sound right.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “All right. Fine. I know you’re going to be hanging out with Nick and that he’ll probably drop a couple of lingerie models on the way to his seraglio for you to pick up...”

“No, I was just surprised,” Max interrupted quickly. “Girls don’t usually flirt with guys who look like me.”

“Ah, good. We can get this out of the way first thing.” Paige took out her phone and started flipping through it before handing it to him. “This is my prom picture from two years ago. What’s the first thing you notice about my date?”

Max looked at the couple in the picture. “He ... looks a lot like Hodor? I mean ... particularly with you rocking the Stormborn blue. You’ve had the Daenerys thing going on for a while. Haven’t you?”

“The Hodor thing was totally his idea. He really played it up for that shot.” Paige shook her head. “But, my point is that he’s a big guy ... like you. Bigger, even.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re a chubby chaser?”

Paige laughed and smacked his shoulder. “I’m not a chubby chaser. I was just crazy about Peter. He was my best friend - smart, funny, sarcastic. But, he had terrible self-esteem issues. By the time I figured out I was into him, he’d friendzoned me for being ‘out of his league.’ I had to ask him to prom because he wouldn’t take a hint even when I hit him with a clue-by-four and it still ended badly. And, while I realize that this is the firstest of first-world problems, I really don’t need to deal with it again. So, if you’ve got serious self-esteem problems, you should tell me now so I don’t waste my time.”

Max considered his next words carefully before finally saying, “Well, I used to have self-esteem problems, but then an exceptionally pretty girl told me I could probably score with my best friend’s leftovers. That complement will probably turn me into a smug asshole for at least a month.”

Paige finished her wine. “It sounds really bad when you say it like that. They would be gourmet, five-star leftovers.”

Max laid a hand on hers. “I didn’t notice. I’ve had my eye on a girl who looks a lot like Taylor Swift.”

Paige laughed, but didn’t pull away. “I don’t really.”

“No, but you do a great impression,” Max acknowledged. “And, I figured I was getting close to the point of one too many Daenerys jokes.”

“I would have put up with one or two more before having you killed,” said Paige.

Max smirked. “Anyway, I’m going to be living here starting Monday. Would you like to get together for coffee and snark?”

“Like on a date?” Paige teased him.

“I could be your next mistake.” Max offered.

“If you are, I’ll probably write a song about it,” Paige warned. “But, I could definitely be free for coffee on Monday.”

“Good.” Max nodded. “But ... just to be clear ... If you are a chubby chaser, we may not have much of a future. This extra bulk is largely a product of having no real choice as to what I ate for years. My mother’s kitchen is a bit of a food desert. This place has a gym in the basement and Nick’s hiring a cook who doesn’t think hot dogs are one of the four food groups.”

Paige gave an unladylike snort of laughter. “I tell you what. If we make it to the third date, we can do a full review of my dating history for sufficient body type diversity.”

“Fair enough,” said Max. “I’m not sure I want to lose the weight if it’s going to get me dumped for someone that looks like Hot Pie.”


Once Casey called it an early night, promising she would answer her phone the next time he called, Hall slipped away from the cast and crew who had gathered in the conference room set aside for craft services. With the producer-slash-star of the video also owning the set, the shoot had morphed seamlessly into a kind of wrap party. Hardly anyone had left after Stephen called “cut.” They ate and drank. Music played from a Pandora station on the in-room TV. And everyone waited their turn for a chance to talk to Nick.

Hall returned to his dressing room, flicked on the lights, and called his wife.

“My master is a cruel and heartless man, leaving his new bride alone and unsatisfied,” Cat answered in lieu of a more traditional greeting.

Of all the things Hall had been surprised to learn about his wife, her submissive streak when they were alone was one of his favorites. In public, Cat was an unstoppable force of nature. In private, she enjoyed yielding. As she’d put it, she rarely had trouble communicating what she wanted, so she liked having times when it was Hall’s turn to tell her what he wanted. “Would you like to satisfy yourself while I’m away, Cat?”

“It’s not the same without you,” Cat protested. “Are you still flying back tomorrow?”

“Maybe not. I still have to talk to Nick. And, it turns out that one of the lingerie models I was DMing for today is a former cosplay model you might remember named Casey.”

 
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