An argument ensued, which Logan won by simply threatening to quit, ever classy. The game resumed, and with some nagging by Kram, the group accepted Haskar’s quest and set out to the ogres’ cave. It was a day and a half’s walk, and during the first night their camp was attacked by a wandering giant scorpion. They defeated it handily, using the battle to help Ashley learn the combat rules.
“I think I was stung by the beast,” Barxes said as they settled back down around their camp fire. “Mayhap someone will help suck out the poison before I am weakened for our confrontation with the ogres?” He looked plaintively to where Asaleth was sitting hunched over, her lean elven figure illuminated flatteringly in the fire light.
“I have some antivenom you can have,” Kram offered—perhaps a little too quickly, with his own look at the beautiful elf maid and her bewitching eyes.
“Feh!” Barxes spat. “My people do not trust your fancy potions. Our ancestral way has always been to suck the poison out! I see you do not hold to our traditions—Asaleth, what say you?”
Asaleth smiled, flattered at the attention. “Well, I suppose I know a thing or two about how to do this,” she said, approaching the burly barbarian with a saunter in her walk.
“My lady!” Kram gaped, scandalized. “Such a suggestion from such a fair maiden.”
“I can suck something out of you next if you’re a good boy,” she said, winking one pale green eye flirtatiously as she sunk to her knees in front of Barxes. “Now why don’t you show me where the ouchie is, big fella?”
“Whoa, hey there, this is just D&D, we’re not LARPing or anything,” DJ said as Ashley pressed her lips to the top of Logan’s thigh.
“What the hell is LARPing?” she asked. Logan just stared at the top-heavy girl squatting before him, trying not to drool.
“That’s where you act it out. We just declare what we’re doing in character—like a video game, except our voice is the controller and our imagination is the screen.”
“Wow, you have never been sexier than when you gave me that explanation,” she said sarcastically. “I happen to like acting it out a little. Logan doesn’t mind, does he?”
“Nuhhhh,” Logan replied. This was the first time he’d ever had a girl’s lips touch him below the belt. Even just the thigh was amazing—and this girl was so a full-on hottie!
“See? Now hush, we’re role playing.”
“I don’t wanna sit here and watch you faux blow Logan,” DJ said.
The paladin’s sermonizing began to grow tedious to the sorcerous, who was anything but moralistic with how she conducted the affairs of her body. As he stood by rebuking her for the misuse of her lips, she used them to form the words of a spell.
There was only a soft shimmer and a few barely noticeable twinkles about Kram’s head as her charm spell took hold. For all his valor, his mind was now putty in her hands. His irked expression suddenly faded and became one of affection at his dear, dear friend Asaleth and her promiscuous shenanigans.
“There now, you don’t mind if I give Barxes here a thrill, do you?”
His mouth twisted for just a moment before his compelled compassion for her won out. “I… suppose I don’t. I’ll just be over there, seeing to my horse.”
“No, stay. I feel safer with you here. Watching over me.” She batted her eyelashes at him and giggled.
“Oh. I… guess I could do that.” He shuffled his feet, watching her awkwardly.
“I think the stinger got me right in the ol’ love muscle,” Barxes said, raising his loin cloth to expose a cock befitting his enormous stature. It was nearly a foot long, veiny and menacing as it sat on its throne above a scrotum that look like a sack with two oranges in it.
“Dude, quit describing your dick already, we get it,” Derek said, rolling his eyes.
It was Asaleth’s turn to be mesmerized—or so thought Barxes as the lithe, silken-haired elf maiden took him into her mouth and wielded her tongue with a skill that must itself be magical. Yet in fact, Asaleth knew it was truly she who was in power here, that by the time this brute relieved himself of his seed, he would be in her thrall in perpetuity with a certainty her spell on Kram should envy.
Ever the perfectionist, she slathered his cock with her bewitching tongue as Kram looked on helplessly. Enviously, she hoped. She threw her golden tresses side to side as she eagerly licked up and down his mighty greatclub then swallowed it deep into her enchanted throat. Barxes roared in barbaric triumph as he unburdened his coinpurse; Asaleth dutifully pressed her lips to his base and swallowed every drop with relish. When he at last finished—for such were the reserves of his incomparable balls, weighty with seed—”
“Last warning. Next time you describe your junk, I’m going to have a demon lord teleport in and cut it off.”
Anyway, he was quite satisfied. Kram, meanwhile, folded his arms across his chest and forced himself to observe out of concern for her well-being.
“You done being a whore-ceress?” DJ asked, annoyed.
“Wow, how long you been saving up that gem,” she replied with a smirk. “Besides, Kram liked it. That’s what the charm person spell says.”
“Hey, did I interrupt? Did I try to stop you? No. Now let’s just move on.”
Ashley picked herself up from where she’d described her blowjob, kneeling at Logan’s feet. He was rock hard. So was Derek. So was DJ. Hell, she was a little turned on herself.
“I’ll have Kram keep Asaleth company in her bedroll tonight, it being so cold and all.” She settled her broad behind onto DJ’s lap and whispered in his ear, just loud enough so everyone could hear. “That could’ve been you, you know.”
“I have my vows to Asterius, Asaleth—you know this. My heart cannot be taken by any one mortal woman, for I am pledged to them all, along with the men and children of the world.”
“Tell me you want me,” she breathed into the half-orcs light green ear. “I know you have your vows—I just want to hear you say the words.”
Charmed as he was, Kram had little choice but to give her this small boon—in word only, he reminded himself. “I… I want you.” In word only.
Asaleth deftly shed her robe, her lean, naked body pressed up against the knight’s hirsute but muscular bulk. “I know you do.”
The group slept it off—the scorpion poison in Barxes turned out not to have been so grievous after all—and proceeded with their journey in the morning. The ogres were numerous and determined, but the heroes—armed with Barxes’ rage, Asaleth’s arcane power, and Kram’s abiding faith in Asterius—won out, hacking their way through wave after wave of the stupid brutes.
At last, they got to the heart of the lair—where of all things, a necromancer, cloaked in black robes revealing naught of their wearer but his gaunt, almost skeletal claws, awaited them! Bound helpless on the altar to his fel deity was what was unmistakably the personage of Vylyra, Haskar’s beloved. In the gloom, they could make out only her presence, and that from her feeble struggles at her bonds, that she yet lived.