Chapter 51

Klonk! A golf ball-sized smooth wooden sphere hit a small cup and knocked it down.

“Another miss!” a gyaru-type girl announced from a stage to those further back in the large crowd that gathered around. She then went to pick up the cup and put it back upright precisely on the spot marked by a white outline made with chalk on the stage floor.

The young gyaru was very curvaceous. Her giant boobs threatened to escape the white shirt that could barely contain them as the upper buttons held on for dear life. A loose string in the place where a button should have been indicated that it was a losing battle, not that any of the men (and several bicurious women) complained about the amount of exposed cleavage.

The long, curly golden hair, sun-tanned skin, and heavy makeup added to the bimbo image that the gyaru woman embraced with pride. Each time she spoke she took a confident step forward, showing off her thick thighs. She often turned around toward a different part of the audience, to make sure that nobody was left without her face and voice for more than half a minute. More importantly, with each sharp turn, her dangerously short skirt flew up, granting a marvelous panty shot of her black thong, front and back, to the entire crowd.

Just a few feet from the gyaru girl sat the woman who just launched the ball from her exposed pussy.

“Damn it all!” the woman cursed the missed opportunity and grit her teeth. “One more try!”

“Sorry, but no, can’t do!” the gyaru girl winked and pointed to the long line of women that started from the steps to the stage and ended somewhere deep in the crowd. “Next! Hurry up, hurry up! You don’t want to miss the opportunity to fuck the eventual champion, right?”

The woman grumbled as she pulled up her shorts and walked off stage, past the next challenger who was already taking her place, and pulled another wooden ball out of a large barrel that the gyaru girl guarded carefully, even if it did not seem like it.

So many people were captivated by this strange event that many did not even notice how Beatrice passed their backs, guided by her masked escort.

The succubus noticed an ample supply of alcohol: mugs and barrels of the stuff. She promptly used it to wash her hands and face after the battle, using the best destinfectant she could have under the circumstances. She even filled a separate cup to rinse her mouth. Ugh, Beatrice grimaced. The liquid was not exactly high-grade cognac quality.

“Come on, ladies! You’ve got to try harder than that!” the gyaru girl tried to rally the participants of this weird attraction after another failed attempt to land a ball in the cup which was barely wider than the ball itself. “Young miss ... Gamma is waiting for her lucky winner! Lots of guys are counting on you to land the shot! You wouldn’t leave them blue-balled, would you?”

Beatrice looked at the stage again and, indeed, saw another familiar face. “Gamma”, or rather, Galla, sat in the corner of the stage, wearing barely anything, tantalizing the guys in the crowds by imitating giving a blowjob with her hands and tongue.

“Ha! As if they care!” a couple of spectators laughed. “They just want that big, fat, Number Seven dick!”

“If you’re so sure he’ll win, how’d you end up here, with a loser’s ticket stuffed in one of those balls?”

“Ha! I didn’t! I just came for the show!”

“Oh yeah? Show it then!”

“As if! So, you could steal it?”

As Beatrice walked forward, those that were less distracted by the various entertainment did notice one of the winners of the first round walk past them but seemed to know better than to try and approach her. The black mask with red flame painted across it seemed to command a whole different level of either respect or outright fear compared to those among the staff that worked among the spectators.

But even if no one dared to touch Beatrice or so much as get in the way of her or the masked man, it did not stop several guys from making rude gestures with tongues and fingers as Beatrice passed them, nor did it stop a few other men from asking Beatrice to show her titties.

“I’ve got a ticket with your number on it!” one man shouted as he waved the small piece of paper. “I’m counting on you!”

“I promised my girl to shave my balls if you win!” another one revealed. “Fight on!”

“As if! That bimbo can’t even figure out that she’s supposed to suck a dick that’s presented to her”

“Bwahaha, that’s right! The dick is supposed to do the impaling, not the other way around!”

“Last month a similar-looking woman got gangbanged by eight men and three women!” someone from the crowd shouted. “She totally loved it, by the way! So, you could always try that strategy, haha!”

Beatrice rolled her eyes and wondered if it was worth wasting a Skill Point to enhance her voice recollection just in case she ever got a chance to have a “talk” with some of her fans later.

The masked man guided Beatrice further from the entertainment areas. After walking a narrow path along a straight rock wall with no safety measures to protect from the black abyss below, Beatrice was guided to a row of six steel doors. Each door had a number on it ranging from sixty-seven to seventy-two painted sloppily with white paint. The whole area gave off major vibes of some deep, forgotten, underground dungeon cells.

“Your room is sixty-nine,” Beatrice’s escort said.

“Would never have guessed,” Beatrice replied sarcastically. “Since there’s nobody else here, participants Sixty-seven and Sixty-eight didn’t make it past the last round?”

“Correct,” the man said. “The two girls are waiting for you inside.”

“Just to be clear, they’re at least eighteen years old, correct?”

“O-of course! Only those of age eighteen or older are allowed to join the S.E.C.R.E.T Guiiiiiiii-ilds competitor: The Forge of Champions! Which the S.E.C.R.E.T Guilds absolutely does not endorse nor condone!”

“Riiight,” Beatrice nodded in agreement as if this could get any more obvious.

“A-anyway, I’ll be waiting here! You have twenty-five minutes!”

“Uhuh,” Beatrice sighed. Now that she was here, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that what was offered as a reward for the first successful killings in the games, was actually meant as this world’s version of a “last meal”.

“Celebrate your first kills or enjoy the last orgasms of your life, we don’t care which”, is it? Beatrice revised her first analysis. And while she had no intention to perish in these games, she hardly felt like celebrating prematurely when the hardest fights should have been up ahead. And the whole idea of a ‘pity fuck’ was outright insulting to someone who could get plenty of sex with practically whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

This train of thought led Beatrice to think of ways to make this a little more fun than it might be otherwise. Beatrice turned to her escort and asked, “So, basically anything I want goes while I ‘rest and enjoy myself’?”

“You may not leave this area, and no death, mutilation, or other bodily harm is permitted to anyone here,” the masked man clarified. “Other than that, yes, ‘anything you want’. Any unfulfilled wishes or fetishes!”

“Will I be provided with the necessary props and equipment?” Beatrice asked.

“What? Like what?”

“The fact that you’re asking that question shows how unprepared and slapped together this entire part of the games is.”

“D-do you want to fuck or not?” the masked man raised his voice in frustration.

“Hold on, don’t pressure me!” Beatrice tried her best to maintain a serious face.

“You’re just wasting time!”

“You sure seem in a hurry. Were you going to peek on us?”

“What!?”

“I just figured that maybe voyeurism is your thing. If so, I’m sorry! I’ll go right now, and—”

“I do not peep!” the tone of the masked man betrayed him. Even with his face completely obstructed by the black mask, it was clear that he barely kept his cool.

“You wanna join in on the action?” Beatrice asked.

“Impossible!” the masked man snapped to the point that his voice echoed and unwittingly changed his posture to an apprehensive one.

Beatrice raised an eyebrow at the rather strong response and a big change in the otherwise utterly stoic man’s demeanor. I guess, I pushed too hard, Beatrice thought and was about to back off, but the momentary awkward silence caused the masked man to hastily clarify his response.

“B-because it’s against the rules! That’s why it’s impossible!”

“I just thought—”

“It’s not like I can’t! I can! And I have a girlfriend too! That’s right! Fuck like bunnies as soon as I come back from work! So, it’s against the rules and I won’t hurt my girlfriend’s feelings!”

“Uhuh,” Beatrice barely kept her grin at bay as momentarily glanced at the masked man’s heavy, thick kilt that all the black-masked staff wore and which made it hard to spot the size of the package that the men had, as well as if they had it.

“The girls in that room are patiently waiting for their probably-soon-to-be-dead-death-game-participant!”

“It’s not like I mind sharing,” Beatrice said as the corners of her mouth betrayed a slight smile.

“That’s not the issue!”

“But—Oh, of course! You’re right!” Beatrice exclaimed and smashed her fist into her open palm. “How selfish of me! I didn’t even consider the girls’ feelings!”

“That’s not—”

“I’ll be right back!” Beatrice said as her grin broke through while she ran to the designated door and opened it.

The designated room with the number ‘Sixty-nine’ was everything Beatrice expected it to be. It was no larger than a dungeon cell, barely reaching eight feet from floor to ceiling. It had a couple of torches to provide some light and a pathetic excuse for a mattress thrown on the floor. Inside this cell, two girls (a blonde and a brunette) in chainmail bikinis were already making out, with their hands all over each other’s nubile bodies.

The moment they saw the door swing open and the sexy participant Number Sixty-nine appear in the frame, both girls cheered.

“Finally!”

“We thought maybe you fell on your way here and fantasized about—”

“Don’t care,” Beatrice interrupted. “Has either of you ever fucked any of the staff of the Forge of Champions? More specifically the men with the black masks that go on the arena with all the participants?”

“If only!” the brunette sighed. “They’re so mysterious!”

“And strong!” the blonde added.

“And hot! Apart from the scrawny ones.”

“I think the scrawny ones are cute!”

“Doesn’t matter though,” brunette sighed again. “Even so much as touching them without permission is punishable by death! No one has so much as made out with them!”

“Jessica told me she did!” the blonde argued.

“And you believed her!?” the brunette looked at her make-out partner like at a total moron.

“Then, if you had one opportunity to fuck a strong, hot masked staff member right here, right now, would you capture it?”

“For real!?” the brunette asked with excitement.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” the blonde added.

“Great! Hold that thought!” Beatrice said and rushed out of the cell, closing the door behind her.

When Beatrice returned from the cell, she saw her masked escort fidgeting and murmuring something to himself. The succubus no longer bothered hiding her excitement and simply said, “Well, it’s all settled! They’re both hot, sexy, and ready for some masked cock!”

“NO!!” the masked man insisted. “I told you already! I can neither break the rules nor my vows!”

“Your vows?” Beatrice asked. “T-to your girlfriend?”

“Y-yes! We vowed never to cheat on one another!”

“In this city?”

“E-especially in this city!”

“Well, either way, this won’t do!” Beatrice crossed her arms. “You confirmed that anything I want goes. And that’s my fetish—to masturbate and moan sexily while I watch two horny eighteen-year-olds take it from a big strong masked man who just oversaw a bloody massacre in which I took part! Maybe even join in! They were really hot! And could barely keep their hands off each other just thinking about getting plowed!”