Chapter 2

"Welcome to the lair of Morehagg the succubus, adventurer," horny fetish-bait said. "I'm going to enjoy playing with you."

"And ima gonna give your face a good turkey-slappin' wiv my penis," Jackson said.

Jackson had given up bothering to say anything sensible. It was a JRPG. No one had more than three lines of dialogue and it didn't matter what he said anyway.

Demonic perv-magnet pouted at him. "Wouldn't you rather I sucked it instead?"

Eh?

No time to ponder what he'd thought she said. He felt that strange swirly dislocation that indicated he was about to enter battle. His vision blurred and then cleared. He was standing in the same location, but everything around him appeared crisper, as if he was seeing it all at a higher resolution.

That included the succubus.

Jackson smiled and shook his head. So predictable. Didn't matter what age the game was aimed at, the dirty old developers couldn't resist sneaking in an obvious fetish fuel character for them and their audience of adolescent boys to perv over. Jackson used to be one of those adolescent boys before he'd grown up and realized how sad it was.

Morehagg was worthy of a good perv. She looked like filth incarnate. She possessed the mountainous silicone-enhanced peaks of a porn actress welded to an impossibly thin wasp waist--the kind of figure that could only exist in hentai. Her costume wasn't exactly there to preserve modesty. Her shiny purple top revealed more cleavage than it hid, and the glossy material was stretched almost to bursting trying to contain her abundant breasts. The eye-shaped clasp that held the thing together at her chest looked like it might pop at any moment. Most of her flat belly, including the little dimple of her navel, was exposed. Her long lithe legs were covered in kinky fishnet stockings that ran down to a pair of sexy stiletto heels. The stockings were attached to her waist with suspenders.

Fetish fuel. Pure filthy fetish fuel.

She was also the area boss. Jackson could tell--she had her own battle theme.

That was the other stupid thing. Every time he went into battle, music would start playing even though there wasn't a single musician in sight. Usually it was something wibbly-warbly that was meant to be rousing, but instead sounded like someone farting through a tin in a bath full of semen. Morehagg's music was different--slow and slinky. Dirty.

Wait!

Jackson noticed she wasn't wearing any underwear. He looked between her legs and saw a neat little bar of trimmed pubic hair and the shadowy cleft of her pussy.

This was ... unexpected.

He remembered her words before the battle had begun. Had she actually said what he thought he'd heard her say?

Morehagg stood next to the throne and gave her long red nails a bored glance.

"Are you going to do something, or do I have to wait here all day?"

That jerked Jackson to attention. Yes, it was his turn.

He charged forwards and slashed Morehagg across her ample chest. He felt the impact and Morehagg doubled up. Thirty-one flashed above her head in floating red numbers. Then she stood back up straight and Jackson saw no visible mark his attack had hit her.