Preview: Roleplay of the Bed and Tabletop

So, that geeky roleplay story I've been talking about for a while? It's very much underway, enough to share an early little taste :)

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“With a flick of his wrist, the demon prince Bastidio directs a wave of hell magic toward you. Roll for dexterity.”

Rachel rolled. “Ooh, that’s a four.”

“Four’s not going to help you,” I said, not even trying to suppress my smile. “Invisible tendrils wrap around your limbs, and then through them, not damaging you, but infiltrating and essentially seizing control of every muscle in your body. You feel your arms and legs, your midsection and neck, all of your individual fingers and toes, harden to the consistency of wood under your skin, until you freeze into a statue before him.”

Rachel mimed the process beautifully, starting with a wild swing for the door, then a couple of increasingly laborious steps that took her only as far as the side of the bed, where she came to a teetering stop.

I stepped around to the front of her, put the tip of one finger to her forehead, and ever so slightly pushed.

She toppled backward onto the bed, holding that same rigid position so perfectly, you could almost swear she was really stuck in it.

“Your infernal new husband arranges you on his bed,” I said, pushing down on Rachel’s left leg, which was still extended in mid-step. “The tendrils operating your muscles soften and bend effortlessly to his will, but harden again against any attempt to move under your own power.”

I adjusted her in a few more places, straightening out her slightly crooked spine, making sure her head was fully resting on the bed, until she looked comfortable.

“Can I still talk to him?” Rachel asked.

“No,” I said. “The invisible tendrils are holding your jaw and tongue in place.”

She shut her mouth with a snap.

I ran my fingers slowly along the waistband of her jeans, to the fastening.

“What you can still do is think your magic extraction word and return to Earth,” I said. “Tell me if you decide to.”

Rachel’s mouth remained firmly closed, motionless except for the involuntary upward twitching at the corners.

“The demon prince removes what clothes he finds inconvenient,” I said, unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them, along with her lace-trimmed panties, down over her tense, immobile ass and legs.

There was heat radiating palpably from the skin underneath, and I took a moment to stroke the backs of my fingernails up over her thighs.

“His touch is careful but businesslike, with an aftertaste of tenderness. It’s like he’s really trying to treat your body like nothing more than a valuable, delicate piece of equipment, but can’t quite forget the presence of a soul inside it.”

I put her hands over her head, with the die still in one of them, and pushed her legs apart. She remembered the rules of the spell, allowing herself to be spread without resistance, but then returning to her rigid state.

“That’s it for Prince Bastidio’s turn,” I said. “Catching you in his binding spell and moving you into position for the ritual deflowering.”

“But I can’t do anything on mine, can I?” Rachel asked.

“You can try to break free of the spell with a raw strength check,” I suggested, “but with your stats, it’s going to take a nat twenty.”

“I guess that’s what I do, then.”

Moving only as much as the task absolutely required, Rachel opened the clenched hand holding her d20, letting it fall off the bed and onto the floor.

It was a nineteen.

I picked it up and pressed it back into her hand.

“No such luck. Bastidio’s turn again. You’re still fully immobilized and at his mercy.”

Rachel didn’t look the least bit broken up about this course of events.

“Even though you’re fully splayed out at this point,” I said, “Bastidio continues exploring your body for what seems like a little bit longer than necessary to get the job done.”

Rachel’s nipples were straining through her bra and soft t-shirt. I tapped each one in turn with a finger, through the fabric, and then ran my hands down to her naked pelvis. I pressed one palm flat over her utterly available pussy, just to feel the streak of moisture along my skin.

“‘One more chance to answer,’ Bastidio growls in your ear,” I said, leaning down toward her ear to do exactly that. “‘Give me one scream if you want me to endeavor to make this pleasant, two screams if you’d prefer it to be quick.’”

Without hesitation, Rachel screamed one short, sharp blast in her throat, from behind her sealed jaw, and then was silent.

“Very well.”

I crawled backward, lowered my head, and blew softly over her pussy, watching the close-trimmed hairs stand on end in response. Then I kissed it, starting with the lips on one side, then the other, licking and softly sucking, making my way up to her clit.

I touched it ever so slightly with the tip of my tongue.

Rachel managed not to move any major muscles, but that tiny little bump moved on its own, stretching upward, and her lips glistened with fresh moisture that was not from my mouth.

I licked a light circle around that bump for several more seconds, just barely touching without pressing, and then dipped the tip of my tongue briefly, experimentally, into the opening itself.

Rachel hummed and giggled and gasped and sighed, but remained a statue. The only time I saw her falter was when I pulled away, and it was only for a moment.

She didn’t even try to bend her neck to look at anything but the ceiling.

I unbuckled my belt, letting it clatter obviously, and stripped from the waist down too.

“Your turn,” I said. “You can feel the power of Prince Bastidio’s spell degrading over time, becoming, not easy to break, but less impossible by the moment. You have seconds left before he full-on takes you, and uses this tender, intimate moment of your young life as fuel for his infernal containment enchantments. Enough time still to use your word, or for one more strength check. You need a fifteen.”

Rachel tossed the die.

I had never been more excited to see a player fail.

“Twelve,” I said, returning the die to her. “Bastidio presses the head of his demon cock against your helpless, magically bound human form.”

I lined myself up between her legs.

“Demon cock?” Rachel asked.

“It’s a cock, it belongs to a demon,” I clarified. “It thankfully feels pretty normal, though.”

“Not that I would have any context—”

“No, not that you would have any context for what a normal cock feels like,” I acknowledged quickly, “being raised to your recent adulthood in an all-girls spy academy and all. But it’s not barbed or spewing brimstone or anything.”

“Okay, cool.”

“You feel a moment of pressure and resistance,” I said, pressing down on her, steadying myself with my hand. “And then, pop,” I slid past her tight entryway, “it’s in. You can feel an eerie, tingling, magical energy sweep through you, through Bastidio, rushing from your interlocking body parts out in all directions to the boarders of this particular realm of hell. The conditions have technically been met for the wards to stay in place another month, but the magic is still flowing, and you get the sense that there’s more that still has to happen to make them as strong as they can be.”

“It has to be good?” Rachel guessed.

“Roll for perception, if you want.”

She did, and got an eighteen.

“It at least has to be good for him,” I said.

“Typical.” Rachel rolled her eyes.

“But he seems to be taking that quick-or-pleasant question he asked you deadly seriously,” I went on, slowly sinking the rest of the way into her, all the way to the base. “He’s taking his time, moving in gentle stages that give you the chance to relax and adjust to his presence, along with the binding spell tendrils inside you. Only then, does he really begin to fuck.”

Rachel giggled. I backed out enough to give her a deep, quick thrust, and the sound became a moan.

She closed her eyes, and for a moment, I felt my attention slip perilously back toward myself.

Toward my deeply average dick, which was never going to make any princes of darkness blush.

Toward this silly costume shirt I’d bought explicitly because I knew Rachel like them, and then never had the nerve to wear before today.

Toward the fact that, holy shit, I was having sex, I was having sex with Rachel.

Toward how overwhelmingly, physically fucking awesome it felt inside her.

Every thought I let in about what I was doing in reality made me want to shrivel and run, either with or without a game-ruiningly premature ejaculation happening first.

All I could do to hold it off was be the dungeon master, just be the dungeon master, watch and guide and hold the integrity of the story as my players, my player, explored and gave it form.

Lucky for me, Rachel needed a bit of integrity enforcement right about then.

Pretty soon, she began to move under me, stiffly and subtly at first, then blatantly grinding against me. Her face rose up, head tilting back in search of a kiss.

I grabbed her by the hip with one hand and the throat with the other, and shoved her flat to the bed again.

“Nope, you failed that roll,” I reminded her. “You’re still immobilized. You’ll get another chance to break free on your turn.”

Rachel stiffened back into shape and whimpered pitifully through her sealed, smiling lips.

I didn’t think I’d ever seen her so happy before.