Forsaken

by Cebelius

Here he was, about to get laid, and he was as far as it was possible for a man with functional nuts to be from horny. Instead, he was on the verge of panic, and none of it was rational. He had never experienced anything so realistic that wasn't reality, and it was very difficult to hold on to the knowledge that he wasn't actually where his brain was telling him he was.

  Trying to think of something sexy, he recalled watching his favorite clips back in his room, but every time the image on the screen just turned into the hobgoblin woman, and he felt the phantom pain of her vicious slaps, the invasive finger as she massaged his prostate to force his erection.

  Eventually, he gave up on trying to help her and lay still, terrified that she would keep going. Scared to death that she might stop.

  It was just the prelude. It was the opening narrative crawl. It doesn't matter. The real game starts now. It starts NOW!

  Abram forced himself into that frame of mind. He rejected any notion that what he had experienced — or even what was happening now — was real. He was in a game. That's all it was. There was no real emotional content. All he had to do was accept that he was playing a character. When the game was done, he would just ... shut it down and check his email.

  A tiny part of him knew that he was one insane giggle from a trip to the loony bin, but the rest of him believed. It wasn't just that it was a game; he needed it to be a game.

  Holy fuck ... this is too real. How in the HELL is this possible?

  That it might be real was too twisted, too dark, too terrible to even contemplate. Yet that was how it felt.

  His heart slowed. His breathing deepened as the fantasy took firm hold of his conscious thought. Angrboda had never ceased to ply his wasted flesh with soft, gentle attention. She was feathering his throat with kisses, and her fingers were trailing lightly in that space between his belly button and his cock.

  A thought occurred to him, one that might please her, so he shared it.

  "I can't wait to see what our children look like."

  Her breath hitched, both her proxy and the massive body underneath him, and she trembled.

  "You know they won't be human," she murmured quietly.

  "I know. Far as I'm concerned, humans are overrated. If my kids are with you, I know they'll be truly special."

  She shifted. He felt her breasts brush up his chest, felt her warmth flowing over him as she kissed his lips and whispered against them, "Abram ... our children will be magnificent. They will shake this world to its foundations ... I promise."

  He kept his eyes closed and relished the sensations as she kissed the sides of his lips, then his throat as she straddled him. He felt her reach between them and pull his flaccid shaft up, laying it on his belly and pinning it there with her heat.

  Her voice reflected that heat as she murmured, "I will bring you such pleasures. You will grant me my dreams, and I will grant yours. I love you, Abram. I love you for coming to me, for telling me your story, for wanting our children. You are already so special to me, and I want you. Desperately ..."

  He felt her hips shifting against him. She was moving slowly, deliberately, and he could feel her heat against the underside of his cock. It was so intense that it all but burned. She kissed him again and her tongue slipped past his lips.

  She tasted like nothing in his experience. More than anything though, she needed him, and he felt it in every flick of her tongue, every slow draw of her hips up over his, and for the first time in ages, his shaft began to swell with genuine desire.

  He wrapped his arms tentatively over her shoulders and felt her settle a bit into him. Her breasts were silken and soft on his chest. Her body on his wrapped him in warmth, and always he felt the heat of her sex pressing, stroking.

  "Put it in!" he gasped as their kiss broke. His voice was desperate. "I need this to be real, put it in!"

  It's just a game.

  The thought was like ice flowing in his veins, but Angrboda's heat melted that ice. She shifted her hips and his breath hitched as he felt her wet heat engulf him.

  "Oh, fuck. It's never felt like this," he moaned. "It's never been this good!"

  Her hips pressed against his, and she writhed against him. He felt her clenching around him, her inner walls matching the rhythm of her body so perfectly that he knew she was doing it deliberately.

  "Yesss. I will be sooo good to you," she cooed, leaning in to catch the lobe of his ear, suckling on it gently as her ass slowly tightened with her lazy movement. "I don't just want your seed. I want your success. I want your pleasure. I will give you everything you want. I am yours. Our story is just beginning, young Abram. There is sooo much pleasure for you within me."

  She leaned up, setting a hand gently on his chest, and he moaned as the angle within her shifted. She traced her free hand down one of his arms, caught his wrist, and gently brought his hand to her breast. He filled his fingers with that soft, pliant warmth, and she cupped his hand and squeezed herself through him, moaned for him, arched for him.

  Her hand dropped away but his did not. He explored that pendant weight, so impossibly silken and warm against his palm. Finding her nipple between his fingers, he rolled the tip of a finger around it, noting how her areola felt different, like she had gooseflesh, and the crown of it was taut and erect.

  She shivered over him, squeezed him within herself as she let out another soft moan. "That's it, Abram. This body is all yours. No one else may have me. Only you. Do with me as you will, or do nothing at all. It is all right. We have time. I will teach you all that you need to know. No matter what happens, I will never forsake you."

  Just a game ...

  It certainly didn't feel like a game though, and Abram kept his eyes shut to focus on those sensations. He had been taken so many times, but this was different. This was everything he had ever fantasized sex might be like. The liquid heat engulfing his shaft, the silken warmth filling his hand, her weight as she shifted over him, even the subtle scent that filled the air around them.

  The soft slick sounds of their connection rippled through his mind. He reached out with his other hand, slid it over her hip. He didn't pull or push, he simply felt her flexing over him, felt the play of muscle under soft, warm flesh.

  The feeling overpowered him, and when he came it was a rush that seemed to complete the experience, sealing this as a fond memory in his mind.

  Only when the quivering eased and she lay easily atop him did he dare at last to open his eyes again.

  The vision he'd been granted was black and white, and there was no shadow. He saw the vast demi-globe of her breast curving above them both and the realization of just what it was boggled his mind a bit. Just one of her tits was bigger than he was, and the comparison wasn't close.

  I really am resting under the boobs of a giant.

  His breath left him in a rush as he accepted the strange surreality. The space beyond that massive boob was completely black, but complete blackness didn't bother him. He didn't feel the open space at the moment, not with her proxy laying across his body, blanketing him in soft, feminine warmth.

  Her head was down on one of his shoulders, but she must have noticed him open his eyes because she leaned up and tilted her head as she gazed down at him with a warm smile.

  As he stared up at her, he saw a flicker at the corner of his vision.

  When he focused on it, it expanded from a flicker to a window that functioned as an overlay on his vision.

  A text window, with a hazy blue outline and high transparency, read:

  You have formed a bond with Angrboda.

  You now have points to spend and may allocate them in accordance with your desire.

  Welcome to Celestine, Abram ben Brock Gallant.

  5

  The Game of Life

  Abram blinked, and the window vanished, leaving him with a clear view of Angrboda, whose smile had faded as she looked curiously down at him.

  "What?" he asked, focusing on her.

  "Your eyes were flickering just now
. As though you were reading," she said. "But you were looking at me."

  Another window popped up.

  'Angrboda has no context for what you are seeing. Attempting to explain is unlikely to obtain a positive result.'

  "You just did it again," she said, frowning now.

  "I ... think ... okay, when you said sex with me would give me power ... damn, how do I explain this."

  Talking about Earth might be fine in the context of the game, but I can't actually tell her this IS a game!

  "Yes?" She leaned over him, couching her chest on his as she tilted her chin up a bit so she could meet his gaze. "I take it then that your gift has already manifested?"

  "Yeah, I think so."

  "What do you see?"

  "When I was ... my last life I spent a lot of time playing video games. They all had something called a HUD: Heads-Up Display. Essentially, it was a window through which you could both see the game world and information relevant to your status in the game. With me so far?"

  "Yes?"

  "I've ... got a HUD now. I think that was your gift to me."

  Angrboda's eyebrow lifted, and she tilted her head a bit, then asked, "Sooo ... you now see the world around you as though it were one of these, games?"

  "Yeah."

  She leaned up and put her hands lightly on his chest as she looked down at him. "I assure you this world is no game, Abram. However, having said that, the gifts you receive from the women you bond with here manifest in accord with your own desire as well as the nature and power of the women themselves. If this is how my gift to you has manifested, it should prove useful."

  Her smile returned as she asked, "What did it say?"

  "Uh ... welcome to Celestine, essentially. Told me that I've got points to spend."

  "Hmm. Well, since you seem to be almost distressingly honest I feel I should be likewise. The fact that my gift has manifested in what sounds like an illusion to help you cope with reality does not fill me with confidence."

  He blinked at her, then started to laugh. He couldn't help it. She was completely right. If he were capable of stepping outside himself to look, he would almost certainly come to the conclusion that he was stark raving mad.

  At least, I'd look that way if I didn't actually know it really IS a game. The meta here is killing me.

  She half-smiled at him, watching him laugh with a bemused expression on her face. When his fit of mirth faded, he shrugged and said, "It is what it is. Tell you what: this will be our secret. I won't tell anyone else that I am prooobably insane, if you will humor my weirdness when it's just the two of us. I mean come on, do you honestly expect me to be able to rationally cope with having been chained to a table, living in my own filth while being periodically raped by a goblin? Let me have my illusions."

  A window popped up, and as Angrboda said, "I can live with those terms," the window said, 'Nice save. She's not wrong, but she's not entirely right either. I'll explain later.'

  "What did it say?" she asked, obviously noticing his eye movements again.

  "It said it would explain itself later."

  "Did it now? Hmm."

  She shifted her hips, and he was reminded forcibly that he was still half-hard and buried inside her. The sensations sent a shiver right through him and her smile turned sly as she asked, "Should I leave you two alone?"

  A thought occurred to him and he asked, "What did you get from me?"

  Her smile slipped, then returned, though it seemed more genuine this time.

  "Aside from pregnant?" she asked.

  "You know that? Already?"

  "Abram, please. Of course I know. I'm a troll-wife. Aside from that though, it seems to me that I gained an ability I will need if I am to help you in your journey."

  "Which is?"

  He dared reach out, wrapping his hands around her hips and marveling again at the smooth warmth under his hands. Her smile turned indulgent at his touch, and she leaned forward over him, her hands gliding up to settle lightly on his shoulders.

  "Those of us who can manifest proxies typically must concentrate our attention to use them effectively, and their range is limited by proximity to one's true form. Your gift to me has vastly increased the limits of my range — if not removed them entirely — because you now seem to be acting as my true form. You've also given me the ability to more effectively split my attention. I can operate both here, and here, simultaneously."

  Her second 'here' came from the giant underneath him.

  "While it is not true freedom, you have loosened my chains considerably, young Abram. I am grateful."

  He nodded, struggling to keep his mind off the sensation coming to him through their connection down south as he said, "So ... what now?"

  "Now? Well, right now, presuming you aren't going to fiddle around with your 'HUD,' I was thinking of going another round with you — just for fun — and then feeding you. You're skin and bones, young Abram. Before anything else, I would like to spend some time restoring your health."

  Abram smiled, though after a moment's thought he asked, "Can we skip straight to the food? Don't get me wrong, you feel amazing, but I feel a bit ... off about all this. Like I should be doing more for you."

  "More for me? Were you listening to what I just said?"

  She sounded genuinely amused, her lips a bit compressed as she gave him a quirky smile. "Being a step closer to freedom, being pregnant again ... what you've done for me is amazing ... more than I ever would have dared to hope for."

  "No, I mean sexually. I haven't made you cum yet. I ... kinda don't know how." He scowled and grudgingly admitted, "Okay, I know how in theory, but that's kinda all I've got: theory."

  Angrboda laughed and rolled her hips, forcing a groan from him as she said, "Very well, young Abram. I will feed you, and then perhaps you can put your theories to the test. I admit to some curiosity about what you Midgardians know of love and sex these days."

  The food the giantess had in mind turned out to be fish. It had been so long since Abram had tasted real food that the succulent, raw morsels of meat brought tears to his eyes. He'd long since decided that he'd never ask — or even attempt to learn — what the goblins had been stuffing down his throat.

  That it wasn't poisonous was perhaps the best that could be said of it, and even that was dubious.

  The fish was uncooked, but even raw it tasted wonderful.

  The giantess had palmed both him and her proxy and carried them to the stone floor, which was textured in concentric rings of old mineral deposits until it reached the utterly opaque water. She assured him it was clean and clear, apparently dark sight simply couldn't penetrate water.

  With the darkness crowding in above him, not to mention the heavy weight of Angrboda's presence looming overhead, he did not feel the usual panic of his agoraphobia.

  A window popped up in his view as he ate that read, 'We should talk.'

  Following his intuition, he willed a text bar into place under the window and his thoughts manifested as words there. The original text from the intelligence behind his new HUD was blue. His was green.

  What are you?

  'The complete answer would be meaningless to you, but I was once known as Hantu Raya, so you may as well call me that. I have been summoned into service by your desire and the power of Angrboda's gift. I normally require sacrifice from my contractors, but your ... aheh, your bill is paid. Consider me your familiar, to serve you until such time as you either find my contract fulfilled, or die.'

  Okay, and what exactly are you able to do?

  As he conversed this way, he kept eating. Angrboda's proxy body sat nearby, but she seemed to be lost in thoughts of her own and wasn't paying direct attention to him.

  'Your obsession with games is something I am uniquely suited to satisfy. In short, I can mold you, make you into what you would better understand as an 'avatar.'

  So ... like Angrboda's proxy?

  'Similar, but not the same. A proxy is a flesh golem and while it c
an be shaped to taste, it is limited both in terms of its ultimate range and the powers it can command. I will be changing your real body in accordance with the power of your gifts. While using me, your abilities are more ... malleable, than would be typical for a template. I am afforded a well of power that I can use to shape you as you desire, within certain limits. This power is the sum of your bond gifts and whatever you gain from the use of me.'

  What's the catch?

  Abram was interested. If what he was being told was true, Hantu Raya was essentially giving him his character creation choices.

  'The catch is that you only get one shot at this. Put in terms you would appreciate, if you die, it's game over.'

  If I die, can you form a new body?

  'That is ... hm. Given your current mental instability it would probably be best just to say no. You only get one life here.'

  Cute.

  'I am not the one so defeated by reality that my deepest wish is to treat it as though it were not so.'

  Abram scowled, but said nothing. He wasn't in a position to dispute Hantu Raya, nor was he inclined. The designers were playing on his meta-knowledge in a way that he wasn't comfortable with, that was all. It made him sound crazy for believing what was true ... then again, the game was supposed to be dark. He just hadn't realized it was H.P. Lovecraft, do-your-best-not-to-lose-your-mind dark.

  So what do you get out of doing this for me?

  'Don't worry, I've already received it. It was offered to me through your bond with Angrboda. I am her bond gift to you. Use me well.'

  A new window with three lines of text popped up in front of Abram.

  Name: Abram ben Brock Gallant

  Race: Template

  Class: ???

  Well, you're my familiar, right?

  'Yes.'

  That makes me a mage, duh.

  Abram didn't even have to think about this one. He knew himself well enough to know that swinging a sword around on the front line wasn't something he had the stomach for. Particularly not with the hyper-realism he was experiencing in terms of sensation. Likewise, archery did not appeal to him, and while he knew that being a rogue type might be excellent for burst damage, again it brought him up close and personal, and that simply wasn't something he could do.