Wanton Witch: XdCeX Online - Discretion Guaranteed. A LitRPG Series.

by ilo man

  “Your turn. It’s a bit cold, but none too shabby.” She grabbed a sheet and wrapped her sopping self in it. “Get nice and clean for me, Vinnie. Girl’s gonna want her rewards for bustin’ you outta jail.”

  “Girl’s gonna get her rewards,” said Vinnie, stripping as he made his way to the tub.

  Velvet shot him a curious look, letting her sheet drop to the floor. She poured the wine, humming softly. He slipped into the bath, periscope up, and began scrubbing. This was it, the point of the whole game, and he couldn’t wait to get started.

  Even if the stars hadn’t aligned to force him in here, had he known about this game, this ability to be with gorgeous folk without bonds or ties, he’d have jumped in feet first and cock up.

  She wandered over to the bath, two glasses in hand. Velvet was perfect. Everything about her was just…just…right. Her tits, oh boy, and her mouthwatering breasts were to die for. She leaned in close, so close he could almost lick them, so close he could see every little pimple on her light pink areolas and every tiny detail of her erect nipples.

  “You wanna suck one, Vinnie?” she whispered, her lips brushing his earlobe, her whiskers trailing over his cheek as she pulled away. Velvet swung her leg over the metal bathtub, sitting astride it. She handed Vinnie one of the glasses of wine, taking a sip of her own. Vinnie brought it up to his lips, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from her body.

  She held her shoulder’s back, thrusting her breasts forward, each a perfect, down-covered undulation that rose and fell with her shallow breaths. Her flat stomach was sleek, not muscled, the hair gathering in a line from her cleavage to her belly button, from her belly button to the top of her pussy, so sleek, so fine, tucked in a thin, pink line vanishing under her legs—legs splayed apart by the bathtub’s side.

  Velvet downed her wine and tossed the glass. She shimmied forward until her body was close to his. Bending ever so slightly towards him, she offered her pert, ripe breasts up to him.

  Vinnie dropped his glass, bringing his hands up, encircling her back. His fingers searched out the cleft at the top of her soft bottom. He stroked her fur, drifting along its flow, following its swirl as her back met her ass and a new gradient took over. She leaned farther in, appearing more urgent, wanting his lips on her nipples.

  His heart hardly paused between beats, his quivering lips puckered, wanting to surge forward, but nervous now, holding back.

  Finally, his tongue reached out and flicked over her nipple, circled it slowly at first. His pent-up passion cracked in moments, and his desire flooded through. He kissed her gently, kissed her hard, flicked lightly, his tongue dancing over one erect nipple then the other until it was all that mattered to him.

  Her arm embraced the nape of his neck, pulling his head still farther in. Her soft whimpers saying, “Bite me,” as her other arm shifted, diving down, grabbing his throbbing cock briefly, all too briefly, before hovering slightly higher and straying onto her groin, fulfilling her own urges. Her arm brushed his as she worked herself into a frenzy.

  His fingers reached around, pulling at her ass cheeks, seeking out her secrets. Then he switched to her front, running his fingers up and down her crease, urgently searching out her bud, the ends of her pussy.

  She released his head, and her hand plunged into the water reaching for his bursting cock. Pain was running rampant in its swollen length, her hand instant relief, and constant relief, tantalizingly slow yet sure, steady, too much, far too much. Her fingers blurred now, working her clit to sate her desire, Vinnie slid down, pulling her closer, her hand slipping off his cock, but her pussy coming ever closer to his ready mouth, until she was over him, parting her lips, splaying her fingers, inviting his tongue in.

  He groin was afire. The heat from her surprised him, her urgency too. His tongue sought out her twin buds, her hooded sex, drawing them into his mouth, bud, hood, flesh, everything, then he held it there, swirling it around clockwise, then counter, then back, faster and faster, then drawing away, Velvet pressing forward.

  Her fingers forced his tongue back as she yearned for her own rhythm, and Vinnie let her in. He let his tongue linger, running up and down the length of her slit, tasting her juices, knowing she was close.

  Strangled cries and her body tensed. Her back arched. Velvet’s other hand shot down, grabbing his hair, pulling his head up hard against her, pressing his mouth to her quim, cumming then, hard at first. His open mouth accepted her gift as her juices bloomed into him. She cried out, loud at first then softly to a simpering whimper.

  Velvet gasped, bending, kissing him. “You see, you can do it,” she whispered, and then she swung her leg over the bath, stood, unsteady, and she staggered away.

  Your Esteem value has changed! You old value was 2. You gave selflessly and sated Velvet. The land rewards you two esteem, one for the performance, and one for pity. Your new value is 4.

  Vinnie stood, the cold water cascading from him, his cock twitching, his balls aching. Velvet had scooped up their glasses and was pouring some wine. He came up behind her, pressing his hard dick into her. She pushed back, offering herself up, and Vinnie took her invite and slid effortlessly in. Velvet took his whole length, her pussy like a furnace, deliciously hot, stifling his dick, smothering it in her warmth.

  She took a deep breath, him too, and he thrust urgently, needing his completion now, demanding his satisfaction, and getting it swiftly. The foreplay had robbed him of any other outcome. It had swollen his balls to bursting, and he came into her with a cry of satisfaction, his cock pulsing over and over until he slumped, hands either side of her, gasping for oxygen, her fast breaths on his neck, subsiding to mutual satisfaction.

  They sat back by the fire, not worrying about clothes, drinking, eating and bathing in each other’s company. Velvet told him about the land then, going easy on him, trying to explain how weak and feeble he still was but as tactfully as she possibly could.

  Though to Vinnie, his stat sheet told him otherwise.

  Attribute (Value x Esteem modifier = True Value)

  Health: 2 x 1.4 = 2.8

  Stamina: 3 x 1.4 = 4.2

  Strength: 2 x 1.4 = 2.8

  Agility: 3 x 1.4 = 4.2

  Intelligence: 6 x 1.4 = 8.4

  Mana: 60 x 1.4 = 84

  Virility [Cumulative True Value]: 5.88 x 1.4 = 8.23

  Perception: 0

  “Over eight virility, plus four for stamina,” he said quite proudly.

  Velvet shook her head. “Eight is nothing, nor nine nor ten. There are players with their virility in thousands. My own is high hundreds. If I wanted to, I could fuck you to death. I could empty your stamina with a wiggle of my ass and a lick of my tongue. That’s why I went first. You couldn’t have shagged me for much longer if you wanted to—your stamina would have run out, and if your stamina runs out, your health fades, and you die.”

  “But I’ll respawn,” Vinnie pointed out to her.

  “Every respawn costs you five esteem. Try to avoid death.”

  “So you really could have fucked me to death?”

  Velvet didn’t answer at first, but she did lean in and kiss him, she did brush her hands over his nipples, her fingers like snowflakes caressing blades of grass. “Oh Vinnie, you have no idea of the pleasure you can give and receive here. First, though, we must prove your innocence, and to do that, you must search out the Wanton Witch.”

  “I must?” Vinnie asked, his heart lurching at his unwanted conclusion. She wasn’t going with him.

  “Yes, you. I cannot come with you.”

  “Why?”

  Velvet picked up her wine glass and took a seductive sip. “The Wanton Witch doesn’t share. She’ll want you all to yourself.”

  “Why would she help me?”

  Velvet smiled, and Vinnie knew there was no way she was going to tell him why.

  “Where will I find her?” Vinnie asked.

  “That’s why we have to prepare, hers is no easy lair to enter, no easy path to travel, and we’ve ye
t to get you out of Hartsfelt.”

  “You’re sure I couldn’t just stay here?”

  Velvet shook her head again. “You need to become strong, Vinnie. Only then can you accuse Cresta and prove your innocence. Only then can you help the princess.”

  Vinnie nodded sagely. “You wanna fuck one more time?”

  Velvet grinned and put her glass down. “Oh yes, I want to feel your magnificent cock in me again.”

  Vinnie smiled as she pushed him over and mounted him.

  “Just go steady, eh?”

  Chapter Eight

  Velvet’s brother was similar in size to Vinnie, and also on a hiatus from Hartsfelt, which Vinnie guessed was real-talk code for not playing at the minute. It made perfect sense to him that you weren’t allowed to talk about the real world, nor reveal who you were. He guessed that once you’d found your perfect love, your soul mate, that you snuck around the rules or just didn’t worry about them as you didn’t need the game anymore. It was, after all, discretion guaranteed.

  He’d watched Velvet sleeping, unable to sleep himself as he was so rapt in his night’s experience. He’d never felt anything like that before. Even now, while he was trying on her brother’s clothes, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

  Sure, he’d had lust-filled sex before, but this was different.

  For a start, he’d been sober, yet still full of passion. He’d given a shit about his partner, yet still got his satisfaction. Velvet had taught him a thing or two about sex, and Vinnie now wondered if he loved her. Although many a different lover had blessed his life—it had been mostly one-night strangers. If he was truthful, there was none stranger than the bunny with the floppy ears and lovely breasts, but now he longed for her to become more familiar, to become his.

  Velvet, though, was adamant she wouldn’t come with him, even shouldn’t come with him. “You’ve hardly traveled around. You need to get strong, do some quests, level up and gain some more attribute points. No, Vinnie, much as I’d love to, I can’t come with you.”

  So, reluctantly, he was set to leave her even though they’d only just met.

  Vinnie settled on a black pair of pants, tight, showing a hint of his truncheon. A fine pair of leather, knee-length boots with turned over flaps at the front now graced his feet and lower leg. He opted for a dark gray shirt, not one of Velvet’s brother’s frilliest, but not so plain either. For a jacket, he went with a military looking number. The best way he could describe it was a medieval biker jacket. She gave him a sword, a scabbard too, and showed him some rudimentary strokes. The skill ‘blades’ was offered to him almost immediately.

  Blades—Those who take this skill will, over time and practice, become adept at swordplay, knives, axes, and weapons with a blade. Choose wisely though, as you are only allowed one main weapons skill.

  “There are a few,” Velvet went on to explain. “You can have blades, as just offered, which is a melee skill. Other melee skills include martial arts, staff fighting, and street fighting, brawling, that sort of thing. There is also an option for ranged weapon’s skills like archery, the crossbow, spear or sling, and lastly, you have magical weapons, and they have classes all by themselves.”

  “So out of all those, I have to choose one?”

  “One main one and you are allowed one subordinate one, but it has to be in the same class. You can’t choose swordplay as your main and slingshot as your subordinate; it just doesn’t work like that.”

  “Sounds complicated,” said Vinnie. “So, if I’m not picking swords, what’s the point of this?” He indicated the belt she’d strapped around his waist and the scabbard she tied to his upper leg.

  “You don’t have to have the skill to wield a sword. You’ll be as good as you would be in real life. The skill enhances your natural talents and speeds up your learning. I’d wait and see what character you naturally build before worrying about it. Here, in this world, it’s not complicated. You don’t need to forgo one attribute to excel in another. Remember, it’s all about fun and sex and defeating Cresta without smashing your esteem up.”

  She found him a wide-brimmed hat and packed some stuff in his sack of holding. “You’re nearly all set, my brave adventurer.” Velvet pecked him on the cheek. “Remember, the Wanton Witch won’t know you, nor that you’re coming, so you’ll have to do something to impress her, to get her on your side.”

  “Where should I head for?” Vinnie asked, taking out his map. He scrolled out by closing his fingers until the town of Hartsfelt was just a dot in a valley, and Velvet leaned forward, her breasts delightfully close.

  “Well, you can’t use the South Road to leave—the king’s men will be itching to catch you—so you’ll have to take the Northern Route. It’s quicker and more direct. This is where you need to get to.” Velvet pointed on the map. “This is her lair. It is a great castle called Hundenwyrdich with magical turrets all capped like dovecots.”

  “Hunting weird dick,” Vinnie repeated. “Sounds saucy,” and he flashed Velvet a beaming smile that befitted a man with 6.59 virility. Velvet slapped him, told him that wasn’t what it meant, and then gave him a lingering kiss, adjusted his hat and sent him on his way.

  While sad to see the last of Velvet, Vinnie was eager to get on, to clear his name. Thoughts of the Wanton Witch filling his mind. He envisioned a tall, thin woman, with long black hair, and skin as white as snow. She would be wearing a black, rune-etched cloak and a large pointy hat. All fairly witchy-stereotypical until he colored it in with lacy PVC boots, fishnets, and a black stretch thong. His Wanton Witch sent shivers through his timbers but kept his mind alive while he climbed the gentle hill the led away from Velvet’s brother’s cottage.

  For the first time in his life, he felt truly alive. He traversed a grassy escarpment—grazing land for sheep, goats, and cattle—enjoying the blue-sky overhead and birdsong on the air. Velvet had told him to head for the ends of the valley where a narrow pass would take him through to the next one and eventually into the Grand Central Forest, a huge deciduous forest, as black and as deep as forests ever got. She’d told him to head for the village of Slaughterhaven, and there he was to engage the services of a forester to guide him on.

  So, Vinnie was a man-with-a-plan, even if it wasn’t his own. Only one hitch presented itself, and that was the possibility of guards stationed at the pass, but Velvet had thought that unlikely, so…

  The escarpment took him towards a rocky bluff, layers of grass and moss-covered rock having refused to erode away with the rest of the slope. At first, he tried to climb it, but soon gave up, it’s unevenness too much for his limited understanding of rock climbing. Reluctantly, he took a muddy trail that snaked up to the pass in ever decreasing turns.

  Vinnie walked the path for another hour before he found himself a jutting rock and sat, rummaging in his sack for some food. He pulled one knee in, leaned back on the rock, and started munching on a heel of bread. Velvet had packed him a bottle of red wine too, so he popped the cork and took a long swig, deciding that life was good and knowing that having esteem made all the difference.

  But something bugged him. He had a feeling that someone was watching him. Adjusting his position, he scanned around, then corked his wine and slid it back in his sack. He made ready to bolt.

  Nothing moved.

  All appeared peaceful.

  He ripped another chunk of bread off and then looked again. While he couldn’t see anything, the hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention, soon dripping with cold sweat.

  He heard giggling. Or did he? Was there a stream nearby? Was that it?

  Giggling again, definitely giggling.

  He stowed his loaf, stashed his sack and jumped up, landing fair and square in the middle of the trail.

  Beginning his climb upward, he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. He was ready for anything. Well, not ready at all as he could barely swing the thing, but who would know?

  More giggling.

  Vinnie glanced around,
then looked back up the trail and screamed. Recovering quickly and trying to look all macho and badass, he stomped up and down and puffed his chest out.

  A gorgeous young woman was standing right in the middle of the trail. Vinnie coughed a lot and started strutting around like a chicken.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” he yelled, “shouldn’t, no. Nope, no. I could have run you through with my sword.”

  The woman looked downcast. Her mop of curly blond hair cascaded over her wholesome breasts. They were pushed out by the thinnest white-bone bodice. Her milkmaid’s skirt swirled around as she swayed her shapely hips. “Forgive my sister and me. We don’t often see such a handsome, strong and powerful warrior walk this trail. We played a little game to see who would ask you. Annalisa lost.”

  “Sure did,” said Annalisa, from behind a tumbled boulder, and her milky hand appeared, bodice flapping in the gentle breeze like a flag. Annalisa jumped up from behind the boulder, covering her naked breasts just a second too late. Her mop of curly blond hair came to the rescue of her modesty. She spun around and slipped her bodice back on. “I lost the bet, and so I had to flash you. Where are you traveling to, brave warrior?” Annalisa asked.

  “To Slaughterhaven and on,” said Vinnie in a deep, throaty voice to match the role he was playing.

  “Slaughterhaven,” gasped the other girl, as yet not introduced. “You must be brave. But tell me, Sir Knight, do you have an afternoon to help two damsel’s in distress?”

  Remembering Velvet’s advice to accept as many quests as possible, and especially quests coming from young, beautiful, and identical twins, though he wasn’t sure Velvet had qualified it like that, Vinnie said, “Of course. What is it you’re after?”

  “It’s our barn,” said Annalisa. “We’ve tried, me and Bryony, tried hard we ‘ave, sir, but rats are running rampant now.”

  “Great big ‘uns,” added Bryony.

  “And now we can’t even go in. Would you clean out our barn, brave knight, err—”