Chapter Three: Roll that Sense Motive Check

        The door to Merton’s room closed and, for the first time in what felt like several months, he could take a breath. He walked away from the door, let his shins hit the edge of the hovering bed that made up the center of the room, and flopped face first into the bed. He didn’t bend or fold. He just plopped there and remained perfectly still, his nose mashed against silken fabric.

        “So, uh...nice room,” Julia said, her voice shy and nervous.

        Merton rolled around onto his back and sat up. His hand went to his hair and brushed his fingers through, shoving his bangs back until he felt his scalp tug against his palm. He looked at Julia and pursed his lips.

        “We need to...” He shook his head. “Okay, no, we don’t need to talk.”

        “We don’t?” Julia asked.

        “Well, yes, we do,” Merton said. “But the phrase ‘we need to talk’ always sounds so fucking final.”

        Julia giggled. “We could, uh, say that we need to nose-nuzzle. But we’ll do it with our mouth-sounds!” She thrust her finger into the air. “Genius!”

        Merton snorted, quietly. “You’re being absurd to try and cheer me up. And damn you, it’s working.” He shook his fist at her.

        “I learned it by watching you!” she exclaimed, as if she was revealing a shocking truth. She flung herself onto the bed next to Merton. The hover-spells that kept it suspended in the air whirred underneath her impact and Merton reached down to pet her sprawl of blue hair. Her hair felt so silky. He wondered what it would have been like to pet Julia when Julia had been a Jules. He wondered if he could have pet her. He wasn’t gay. Well, okay, he was pretty sure he wasn’t gay. Or bisexual. But he loved Julia so much. Would that have let him override his physical feelings? He had no idea.

        The cat leaped onto the bed. But Merton wanted to focus on Julia right now. He shook his foot, hissing. The cat looked like he had been personally offended. With haughty condescension, he leaped off the bed, then walked   out of the room. Didn’t run.

        Merton shook his head, slightly, then looked back to his girlfriend. “How do you like the new bod?”

        “Is there a word for orgasmic chocolate?” Julia mumbled into the bed, her head lifting slightly – just enough to press her scalp against Merton’s hand. “Cause this new body is like, ten times better than that.” She went quiet for a bit, her knees drawing up underneath her as she rolled onto her side. She was a tiny fetal position of adorable...and deep thoughts. Her expression looked like she was looking at something light years away.

        Merton remained quiet.

        “Do you know how many trans people are murdered every week?” she asked.

        “Too many,” Merton said.

        “And too many are killed by people they...well, they’re going out with,” she said, quietly.

        “I’d never -”

        Julia sat up, looking at him. “Yes.” She put her finger to her temple. “This knows it. This knows it.” She touched her chest, then, her finger pressing to her heart. “But, uh, Merton. You’re white. You’re rich. You don’t know how you learn stuff here .” She put her palm on her belly. “Do you know how many times  I wrote out a full confession, late at night.” she looked down, her shoulders slumping. “B-But...”

        Merton nodded, slowly.

        “B-But you loved me and you thought I was pretty and for a few hours every day, when we were chatting, I could pretend that it was true...” Julia whispered, drawing her legs up against her chest as she leaned her chin against her knees. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m so fucking sorry, Merton. I-”

        Merton leaned down and kissed her. It was an awkward kiss – he had to put his finger on his chin and tilt her head backwards. Also, he had to be okay with tasting the warm salt of her tears. His tongue slipped into her mouth and felt the dainty sleekness of her own tongue. She didn’t kiss him back. At first. Instead, she simply sat there, her body buzzing like a tuning fork that had been struck a glancing blow by a railgun. Then she was kissing back, desperation and lust and something more exploding deep inside of her. Merton could feel it as his palms caressed along her shoulders, down the small of her back, dragging her onto his lap. Her limber legs closed around his back and she ground herself against him, the thin, filmy shorts that she wore feeling like less than nothing. He could feel her moistness. Her eagerness.

        She broke the kiss with a quiet gasp. “Holy crap, you are hung!”

        “I told you I measured it!” Merton said, grinning slightly.

        Julia leaned down and kissed him with a hunger that matched her previous fire and then exceeded it. Her hands grabbed at his shoulders and started to push desperately at his shirt, trying to peel it away. The smart clothes stubbornly refused to move – it felt like she was pressing against solid steel, save that it moved perfectly fine with Merton’s movements. He knew this because he was able to grab her butt and squeeze it without being constrained by his shirt.

        And good thing too.

        The four armed purple chick had done an amazing job on turning a middle-aged fat black dude into a slinky eighteen year old asian chick.

        Julia drew her mouth back and Merton panted quietly. “Okay, I think you could have lied about way more...” he murmured.

        “I’m not actually a succubus,” Julia said, grinning.

        “Dang!” Merton snapped his fingers.

        His hands went down to her shirt. Julia put her hands on his wrists, stopping him for a moment.

        “Just to check, you are okay if I nibble on your soul slightly?” she asked. “I mean, I’m asking for academic reasons. I’m not a succ-”

        Merton snapped his teeth at her playfully and Julia squeaked – but before he could literally rip her clothes off her and do in real life what he had lovingly described over IMs for the past few years, the door to his room irised open and the four armed purple chick dressed in the dominatrix outfit walked in. Her arms were crossed over her breasts and along her belly, and her expression was somewhere between focused and monomaniac. Julia looked at her. Merton looked at her. Then Merton looked at Julia.

        Julia shrugged, spreading her hands.

        “Why the heck are you here?” Merton asked – and mentally kicked himself for not asking her name.

        “I have been sent by the Princess Relix,” the purple skinned four armed chick said.

        “Why?” Julia asked.

        “I have been instructed, as the primer student of draconic biology and the headmistress of the biomorphic engine and the rest of the ship’s magitech systems, to perform several tasks that the Princess believes will be required for your continued cohabitation.” The purple-skinned woman snapped her upper left hand. “Remove yourself from his lap, Concubine Julia.”

        Julia pursed her lips, but shifted herself to the side. She thumped her butt into the bed, then grinned at Merton. “ Concubine Julia?”

        Merton chuckled, nervously. “I’m just glad that, uh, my wife is so understanding.”

        “Remove pants,” the purple skinned girl said, in a tone almost exactly like the Omicronian who wanted to cut Fry’s dick off in that episode of Futurama where it turned out human noses were used as an alien aphrodisiac and holy shit that was a bit of a fucking reach, Merton. But Merton couldn’t help it. She sounded exactly like that!

        “Well, I was gonna !” Merton said. Then, remembering that the four armed purple skinned chick had control over his suit of magitech smart clothes (and he did not), he coughed and added: “How?”

        The four armed purple skinned chick sighed and rolled her eyes. “Right. Mage-Blind. I have programmed several command phrases in low draconic for your clothes. You simply need to say ruk’ghegh brantorash trikonan vorent va va lakresh maorkenintet k’grug-” she gnashed her teeth in a loud crashing sound, twice. That seemed to be the end of the sentence. Merton blinked at her.

        “What does that mean?” he asked.

        “Translated approximately into galactic common, it means: I wish to remove my clothing in an expedient means because I either desire the touch of a willing male or female or other, or I seek to clean myself, or I desire to use the restroom to relieve my aching bowels, or perhaps, I long to feel the wind on my scales, for nudity is pleasant.”

        Merton blinked again. “Dragons, uh, they kinda like covering all the bases, don’t they?”

        “It is considered rude to come to the point too quickly in Low Draconic. This is why most conversations use High Draconic or Galactic Common.” The four armed purple skinned chick gestured her lower-right hand. “Now. Come on. Remove pants.”

        Julia, meanwhile, had somehow managed to slip off the bed, get to a niche in the wall, figure out it was a food replicator, and got it to reproduce popcorn. She was chewing happily as she watched Merton with a slightly gleeful expression.

        Merton sighed, then said: “Can you reprogram it to follow my commands? Using my words?”

        The four armed purple skinned chick sighed a long, suffering sigh. “ Fine .” She tapped at her wrist – revealing a tiny gemstone that had been set in the skin. The gemstone flared and glowing magic arced outwards, stabbing into Merton’s temples. Merton’s eyes bugged and he felt like a pair of snakes had chomped down on his nuts and were dangling from between his legs. One leg kicked and his back knotted as he felt those snakes wriggle and start to set his balls swaying. Then he noticed the ice-knives digging into his brain.

        Through the haze of pain and discomfort, he felt the knives touching the bits of his brain that understood language, cause, effect. He focused as hard as he could – like he was trying to scream through a gag made of spikes. And to his shock, he felt the knives grow... curious . It was like they were waiting for just such a scream. And so, he started to program in code words. He wondered how far he could go.

        So…

        Merton went a bit nuts.

        Then the magic withdrew from his head and the four armed purple skinned chick nodded. “There. Does that function?” She asked, looking at him with a pursing of her lips.

        “Let me see...” Merton paused, then said. “Naked.”

        His clothes melted away like fog, leaving him completely bare. His cock, which had softened in the mental vice, twitched slightly. Then it started to harden as the purple skinned girl closed her fingers around it, her palm cupping the base as she started to stroke his member. Her hand pumped up and down and soon, Merton was hard as a rock. His eyes half closed as he tried to keep himself from moaning. But the four armed purple skinned chick had a way with her hands. She pursed her lips again, then scoffed.

        “Mediocre,” she said.

        “What!?” Merton squeaked. “It...he...what?”

        “He was scanning the horizon!” Julia shouted from the sidelines.

        “You will need to undergo rudimentary augmentation to please Princess Relix,” the purple skinned four arm chick said, pulling out a tablet from either her ass or some kind of dimensional pocket. She tapped at it with two of her hands, holding it with a third, her fourth still pumping Merton’s cock. “At least twice the length, a quarter the girth. Ridges. Possibly a mana-secreting glans keyed to proper lust-drugs. How do you feel about it being psi-selectable?” She paused. “Wait, damn, mage-blind.”

        Merton, whose cheeks were flaring with embarrassment and arousal, asked: “If me being mage-blind is such a handicap, why don’t you fix it?”

        The four armed purple skinned chick scoffed. “Fix it?” She shook her head, tucking her tablet away as she also let go of his cock – leaving Merton feeling tingly and anxious and irritable all at once. “Break every convention in the FTE? Mage-Blind races are made to be servants. The greatest of you can maybe, maybe , work hard enough that your children will be modded to have the mage genomics. If you die heroically.” She shook her head.

        “Then why did Relix marry me?” Merton snapped.

        “To keep the suitors off her ta-”

        “Like the suitors will give a damn if they know I-” Merton blinked. “No one else knows humans are mage-blind, do they?”

        The four armed purple skinned chick shook her head. “Oddly, there is a draconic fleet staged in your system’s Oort Cloud, despite the fact that your planetary data isn’t even logged. Humans are an unknown to all save the Manifold Caretakers, your nearest neighbors.” She shook her head slightly, looking thoughtful. “It’s almost as if humans dealt an embarrassing setback to the FTE and the Prismatic Emperor had it wiped from the records. Almost.”

        “Y-Yeah. Almost.” Merton coughed. His cock wilted slightly.

        Julia slowly set her popcorn down, her face growing more serious. “I think you need to make him non-mage blind, then,” she said.

        Merton looked at her, his cheeks flushing.

        “And be broken upon a singularity for it?” the four armed purple skinned chick asked, scoffing.

        “Then...then...” Julia blinked. “Well, I mean, obviously, no one can blame you for what a sneaky human does while you’re re-calibrating the duterium intake pipes.”

        “I do not know what you’re talking about,” the four armed purple skinned chick said, her brow furrowing.

        Julia put her hands over her face, then sighed. “Well, I mean, obviously , you’re not at fault if you put my biffer into the biomorphic modification tube thing, and then went to do your other super important jobs, and a sneaky human who definitely shouldn’t have been there messed with the program. They would be the one who broke the law, not you. You’d have loads of alibis. Why, I bet you could even have evidence putting the blame on anyone but yourself, since you control the security cameras.” She grinned. “Not that you’d do that , cause you’d hate to break a stupid law just because breaking it would vastly improve your Princess’ chances at getting through the next few months without getting married to a psychopathic red dragon who treats his underlings like cattle.”

        The purple skinned four arm chick looked thoughtful. “I believe that the...duterium intake pipes do need seeing too. Once I’ve set up the biomorphic engine, of course.”

        Julia grinned, then winked at Merton.

        Merton fought back the urge to pump his fist and shout: That’s my girlfriend!

        As the four armed purple skinned chick walked away, Merton took a moment to reach out, tug Julia close to him, and then kiss her. Hard. His tongue and hers met and played and he caressed her back. When he drew back for air, he felt light headed. “Julia, have I mentioned I love you and I need to get a What Would Julia Do wrist band?” he whispered between pants.

        “Yes, but you can stand to say it more often,” Julia said, grinning.

        “Any other way I can thank you?” Merton asked.

        “You could get me sick rad magic powers too. Duh-doy,” Julia whispered back.

        Merton bit his lip. A sudden worry flared in his belly. “I…” he paused. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I don’t...want to…”

        “Want to what?” Julia asked, narrowing her eyes in a kittenish kind of way.

        “I don’t want to stop being human ,” Merton admitted - the worries crystalizing into a single flash. He saw himself as some kind of immortal mage-god, ruling over mage blind humans, sneering at them as they groveled at his feet, desperate for his approval.

        “Oh, and humanity is defined entirely by weakness and sucking?” Julia rolled her eyes. “Being human is being Merton Miles . And if some magic and a stupidly huge genetically engineered dick suddenly makes you not Merton, then I don’t think Merton was all that special to begin with.” She smacked his butt. “Now go! Follow the dominatrix tech-priest slash Dabbler from Grrl Power combo! Immorality awaits!”

        “Wait, don’t you mean im mortal ity, not -”

        But then Julia was shoving him out the door.

***

        Carlos tossed the ball to the ground. It hit the floor, bounced up, hit the wall, rebounded, thumped into his palm. He sighed, then looked to the left. There was Merton’s Mom and Dad, chatting quietly about something rocket based. He looked to the right. There was Lisa, pacing back and forth, her face growing increasingly pissed off. And Lisa had resting ‘pissed off’ face that could melt steel. He looked backwards and saw Trevor laying on his back on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

        “All right, fuck it,” Carlos said, then hopped to his feet. He had quite a bit of himself to move, and he kinda wished he could pull a ‘Merton’s weird internet girlfriend’ and go into a fancy space tube and get all swole and badass. But as he didn’t have that chance, he simply jiggled his fat ass over to Trevor. There, he gently put his toe against Trevor’s shoulder, shaking him.

        Trevor sighed explosively. “No.”

        “You don’t even know what my plan is!” Carlos said.

        “No,” Trevor said.

        “It’s simple!” Carlos said.

        “No,” Trevor said.

        “We go and we-”

        “No,” Trevor intoned.

        “-explore the ship and see-”

        “No.” Trevor’s voice had become like the tolling of the Black Bell from Warhammer 40,000.

        “-what we can see and-”

        “No.” Doom, that voice tolled. Doom .

        “-maybe figure out a way back to Earth or something?”

        Trevor did not say no. Carlos presumed this meant he was down. He turned to Lisa, who had gotten her phone out and was already flicking her thumb across it. She looked up at him, then grinned. “I’ve got it set on recording. We’ll make a video log of what we find.”

        “Swag!” Carlos gave her a thumbs up.

        As the three of them headed for the door, Merton’s Mom looked over. “Uh, kids, where are you going?” she asked.

        “An escape pod,” Lisa said.

        “Certain death,” Trevor said.

        “Oh these jokers!” Carlos said, sliding his thick arms around both his friend’s shoulders, drawing them against him and beaming. “We’re gonna find a pool!”

        “Well...have fun?” Merton’s Mom said, her brow furrowing.

        “We will!” Carlos said before either of his friends could speak up. Then he walked backwards and out of the room that they all shared. Once they were in the corridor, Trevor sighed and slid out of Carlos’ grip. Carlos shot him a wounded look – but then Lisa grabbed his wrist and squeezed at a pressure point that sent shooting pain up his arm. Squeaking, Carlos lifted his arm as she stepped out from under him, then started down the corridor. She held up her phone, swinging it around.

        “The corridor appears to be about three meters by two meters, with a convex roof. The lighting seems to come from the same source of energy as the rest of the appliances – supposedly magic. Gravitational forces are earth normal, and the air seems to be a nominal N/O2/CO mix.” She swung the phone around to aim at Carlos and Trevor. Carlos waved. “No negative effects have been spotted in any of us.” She swung the phone back to her face. “This level of technology combined with sociological evidence we’ve seen makes this Five Talon Empire the biggest threat to the future of the human race in recorded history.”

        “First officer’s log, supplemental,” Carlos whispered. “Fuck you Wesley Crusher.”

        Lisa hit pause, frowning. “Can you take this seriously?”

        “Uh, dude, we’re in space . With dragons ,” Carlos said. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to wake up any-”

        Lisa stepped up and smacked him across the cheeks. The blow was not hard, nor was it fierce. It was a dispassionately light smack that still was more physical violence that Carlos had ever faced in his short, sheltered two and a half decades of life. He staggered and Lisa pursed her lips.

        “Can you do that again?” Trevor asked, showing one of his first smiles in days.

        “No!” Lisa and Carlos said at the same time. Carlos stood up, rubbing his cheek slowly.

        “Okay. Fine,” he said. “This is not a dream. And it is serious. But what can we do? Merton’s the happily married boytoy.”

        Trevor smirked ever so slightly. “Yeah. Bet he’s really enjoying that.”

        “Maybe she’s sweet once you get past the total bitchy Princess angle?” Carlos suggested.

        “Don’t. Romanticize. The monarchy.” Lisa repeatedly stabbed Carlos’ chest with her finger, making him grunt with every poke. “Empires are built on the back of slaves, genocide and mass exploitation. From Rome to the United States, you look under the gilt and fanciness and you’ll find a pile of blood.”

        “Does blood pi-” Carlos started, but Lisa cut him off with a glare. Then Carlos’ face went white. Trevor’s did too, though that was less impressive. Lisa’s brow furrowed – and then she turned around to see what they saw standing behind her.

        It was a monster.

        Specifically, it was a two to three meter tall amalgamation of humanoid form and insectoid strength. Digigrade legs that looked as if they had been spliced from an armored grasshopper, with armor-carapace growing over his shoulders. His eyes glowed like red coals, and were set in a face that was furrowed with hideous burn scars and hatchet-like hacking cuts across forehead and chin. His arms were exposed and heavily muscled, while his clothing was something between battle armor and court dress. He had a pair of swords strapped to his back, a rifle slung over one shoulder, two pistols on his hips, a wrist mounted rocket launcher (with micro-rockets loaded along a bandoleer that slung up his arm in a corkscrewing helix pattern), a wand that was tipped with a slowly pulsating black sphere that made Carlos’ blood run cold, the handle of a whip that was connected to a neon glowing energy field that coiled in a tight circle, and finally, a pair of brass knuckles that spelled out the words: FUCK and NAZI.

        Lisa was the one who got her voice to work first. “I-Is that...descriptive or suggestive?” she asked, pointing at the knuckles.

        “Who won?” the monster asked.

        “Who won?” Carlos asked.

        “We did,” Lisa said. “We kicked Hitler’s ass so hard he shot himself in the head.”

        “What the fuck are you talking about?” Carlos whispered.

        But then…

        The monster laughed, clapping one scarred hand on Lisa’s shoulder. “Good! Fucking great , even!” He looked at Carlos and Trevor, then back at Lisa. “What about the Russians?”

        “It’s complicated,” Lisa said, then grinned. “So, what’s your name?”

        “I am so confused,” Carlos said.

        The monster shook his head. “Not exactly the fastest draw in the west, is he?” he stepped past Lisa, crossing his heavily muscled, heavily armed arms over his muscled, armored chest. “The name is Bertram Gummer. The Princess calls me Gunner. I am her Master at Arms. But I was, first, a member of the 11 th  Fighter Group, United States Army Airforce. Ace twice over before I got yanked into this nonsense.”

        Trevor and Carlos gaped.

        Lisa frowned. “Can you show us the escape pods?”

        “No,” Gunner said, his voice flat.

        “We’re kidnapped, just like you!” Lisa said. “We can take you with us – we-”

        “No,” Gunner said, again. He shook his head as he turned, gesturing with one hand. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

        Lisa looked at Carlos. Carlos looked at Lisa. Lisa looked at Trevor. Trevor raised his eyebrows. Carlos grinned. “Come on!” he said, then started after Gunner – following the immense man and his thumping progress down the hall. Lisa frowned, but turned her phone’s recording back on. Her voice was soft as she whispered her latest findings into the phone. They walked through the corridors of the ship – which seemed to just go on forever. They walked past doors that led into chambers filled with weaponry, with supplies, with machines that did something Carlos couldn’t guess at. They walked past rooms where servants of dozens of races worked and chatted with one another.

        At last, they came to a door that opened into a huge park area. Carlos’ eyes widened as he walked out onto the balcony that was set before the door. A pair of stairs wound down to either side of the balcony, but he didn’t need to walk down to marvel at the park. It was easily a mile, two miles wide, covered with greenery and trees. Houses were positioned here and there, and he could see families – groups of various races, some of them children. Some kids ran by underneath him, laughing as they played tag, or threw clods of dirt at one another, in classic children style.

        Gunner stepped up beside him. Lisa joined him, as did Trevor.

        “What is this?” Lisa asked.

        “This is why I am still here,” Gunner said, quietly. “This was the pleasure harem of the former owner of the Talon-9 , Princess Relix’s uncle. When he was assassinated and she took over, she took a glance at this, scoffed, said it was a terrible waste of space, tacky, overdone nonsense. So, she had the harem ripped out. But she didn’t sell off the pleasure servants. She kept them on. She had her seneschal find them wives and husbands. She took me in, out of the fighting pits I had been trapped in for...years.” He shook his head. “Every one of my men at arms, she rescued. Hell, she rescued Thuwit . And when she did select a harem for herself, she...”

        “So what?” Lisa asked, her voice not holding an inch of give. “She’s a good person because she throws you scraps ?”

        “She’s the best she can be in the context of the world she’s in,” Gunner said. “High sight better than you have any right to expect. And while I’ve served her, I’ve saved this ship five times, and her life ten.” He looked at Lisa. “And because I did that, I’ve saved every life here . Let's say the Red Bas, er, sorry, the Red Baron gets in charge here.” He snapped his fingers – making a sound like a gunshot. “The attractive women go into a harem. The men are sold at the nearest spice mine. This ship becomes a gilded slave factory again.”

        Lisa frowned.

        “During the war, we fought with the Soviets. And they were bad. The Nazis were worse.” Gunner shook his head. “And you know what? I don’t feel a jot of guilt working with the Princess.”

        Carlos watched a child run by.

        “Holy shit,” he whispered. “I have never been happier knowing that Merton knows Hackmaster.”

        Lisa, though, was frowning. “What exactly happened to the Princess’ old harem?” she asked, quietly.

        Gunner sighed. “Come with me.” He gestured. “We’ll need drinks for that story.”

***

        Bex was in a smallish humanoid form as he read the physical printouts he had ordered of the five “PeeDeeEff” files that the techthralls had yanked out of the primitive computing device that Relix’s consort had given him. He was slowly reading through The Zealot’s Guide to Wurld Conversion . He frowned as his eyes settled on the rules block for the Zealot character class. Specifically the Zealot of Shona, the Goddess of Games and Ritual Combat. His eyes narrowed as he read the following.

         They may purchase any of the following skills at half the initial BP cost: crane, cricket-in-the-peapod, eye of the tiger advantage, kidney bruiser, mortal combat and any Martial Arts combat procedure listed in the Combatant’s Guide.

         Bex pursed his muzzle. Smoke roiled from his nose.

        He picked up the Combatant’s Guide to Slaughtering Foes.

        He flipped to the Martial Arts section.

        He began to read.

        And slowly…

        Bex began to laugh .

***

        The four armed purple skinned chick looked down at the biomorphic engine control panel. She had carefully programmed in two routines. It had been quite tricky – but fortunately, she had the first program set to run after a five minute break. The second program should not run, not unless someone pushed a large ‘engage’ button underneath the snarl of spell-glyphs and code runes. Slowly, the four-armed purple skinned chick pointed at that button and said, clearly and loudly: “It would be highly unfortunate if anyone were to push this button. I now will go to perform routine maintenance.”

        She turned and walked out of the room.

        Merton, who was currently strapped into the biomorphic engine, looked at the large number of crystal tipped spikes mounted on articulated, gimbaled arms. Each one was starting to glow with a throbbing blue-white light. He winced, then said: “Uh, Julia, you failed to mention the fuckspikes!”

        “Pfff!” Julia said, stepping out of her hiding space. “I’d endure far more than fuckspikes for magic! Heck, I endured the fuckspikes for a super cute, totally legal cooter!” She giggled, then twirled herself around on her toes. Her T-shirt fanned out wide, exposing her flat belly, before settling as she stepped up to the control console. “Ready?”

        “No,” Merton whimpered, looking at the spikes that were slowly starting to aim at his eyes.

        “Don’t worry!” Julia said. “It doesn’t actually hurt.”

        “Oh, real-”

        And that was when it started to hurt. A lot. The pain bloomed inside of Merton’s head, fanned outwards and downwards. It tingled through his feet, buzzed along his cock, burst along his spine, and punched him into his very soul. Fortunately, it lasted less than a second. Then the pain subsided into a haze of half-sensations. He floated on a massive sea of space. His eyes went unfocused and he could see the ship around him slowly dissolving away into nothingness. He was adrift on tides of time, his body stripped naked before the cosmos. He looked outwards, though, not down, not at himself. He didn’t care about himself.

        The galaxy was a great, majestic dance of suns. They flared red and gold and black and purple and white, glittering and pulsating to the beat of a cosmic heart. He could see thin stands of connectivity reaching outwards between stars, like gossamer fibers being sewn by some great cosmic tailor. His brow furrowed as he looked at the lines...and saw that they glowed with an eldrich light. A quiet breath sucked into his lungs as he spread his arms wide.

        “Ley-lines...”

        Then the galaxy faded and his eyes opened as Julia’s face filled his face.

        “Merton?” she asked.

        “Hey,” he said, slowly, then blinked. “Are your lips blue?”

        Her lips were, in fact, not blue. They shimmered and rippled between blue, purple, white. Lines of light crackled from her tongue as she spoke: “Uh, no, but that sounds sexy as balls.” She grinned. “And I don’t even like balls that much.” She laughed nervously. Her voice caused the shining colors of her lips to crackle faster. Merton blinked and the colors faded, replaced with a more normal set of hues. She leaned forward, her eyes filling his.

        “You okay?” she asked.

        “I don’t know...” Merton blinked, then gently grabbed onto the edges of the biomorphic engine. He stepped out, staggered, caught himself. His arm shook and quivered and he looked down at his body. His muscles had been toned and tightened, while his skin had been freed up of blemishes. There was a noticeable lack of arm and leg hair. And pubic hair. He looked down at his shaft, gaping slowly as he looked at the thickness of his member, resting on balls that looked as if they had swelled up a few notches on the ‘ball-o-meter.’ He shook his head slowly, his palms going down to squeeze his scrotum.

        His cock twitched, growing harder and he saw that it actually got quite a bit larger as he felt a jolt of pure arousal rocket through him. Julia licked her lips slowly.

        “Okay, I’m not normally a size queen but, uh, yum?” she whispered, slowly kneeling down on the floor. Her palms closed around his cock as she looked at his cocktip, her teeth biting down on her lower lip as she furrowed her brow in concentration. A thick drollop of pre cum rolled along her knuckles as she started to pump her hands up and down his cock. Merton’s eyes half closed and his knuckles went white as he gripped the tabletop. He had to lock his knees to try and stop himself from collapsing on the ground.

        Then Julia closed her mouth around the head of his cock. Her tongue swirled tentatively around his member as she closed her lips tight around his glans, fastening herself and sucking eagerly. Merton had never gotten a blowjob in his life. He just had to go on descriptions he had read online. Those descriptions hadn’t been anywhere close to what the feeling was. It was...chaotic. It was spikes of sensation that were as shocking as lightning crashes – sensations that came without warning. When he touched himself, he knew what his hand did, what his thumb would caress.

        Everything Julia did was a revelation, even as she pushed her mouth forward an inch or two, choked softly, then drew back. She coughed, gasping as she turned her head to the side. “W-Wow, how do girls do that?”

        “Practice?” Merton asked.

        “No, I’m pretty sure it’s magic,” Julia said, grinning at him. “Also, I hasten to add...I expect some cooter nomming.”

        Merton grinned. “Oh horrors .” He licked his lips, then looked around the room. He spied a recovery couch. His hands grabbed onto Julia’s shoulders and he tugged her to her feet. The two of them hurried – giggling like high schoolers – and collapsed onto the cot. It was far too advanced to squeak under their weight. Their hands caressed one another, and Merton did what he had been waiting to do for years . He slipped his hands underneath Julia’s shirt and found the smallish, perky mounds of her breasts and squeezed. They were silky soft, capped with tiny nubs of hard, sensitive nipple, which he coaxed gently, bringing out a sweet giggle-moan combo that escaped between their locked lips. Then Merton found himself pushed back. He thumped down and watched as Julia swung one limber leg over his hips. She sat down and trapped his newly embiggened dick against his tummy.

        This brought out a series of giggles.

        Julia, who had been in the midst of looking sultry and seductive while tugging her shirt over her head, paused. “What?” she asked.

        “It’s a perfectly cromulent word,” Merton said, chuckling.

        Julia tugged her shirt the rest of the way off, then used it to gently slap him on the chest. Merton grabbed her shirt and tossed it away – and sighed the exalted sigh of someone slipping into a warm, soaky bath. Seeing a beaming, nervous, excited, red faced, hard nipped, bare chested, blue haired, real Julia was a like balm to a weary, nervous soul. Merton licked his lips – and sighed again with just as much contentment as Julia slipped herself forward, shifted her knees, swung around...and sat down on his face. Her sex was shadowed by the curve of her hips and her butt. His eyes closed and he kissed blindly, finding the smoothness of her sex.

        “By the way,” Julia whispered, her voice throaty and full of erotic promise. “I asked to taste like strawberries.”

        She settled herself down and Merton’s tongue started to delve into her sex. His hands grabbed her hips as her flavor – indeed, strawberries – burst on the tip of his tongue. Then she leaned forward and her palms caressed his balls with slow, wondering strokes. She kissed the side of his cock, nuzzled his member, then breathed in, then slipped her mouth along as much of his cock as she could. And it was a gratifyingly small amount of dick that she got into her mouth before she had to stop and draw back. Feeling the movement of her tongue and her lips and the soft, happy moans that she kept making…

        Well.

        Merton was an enlightened, 21 st  century, mostly liberal native of California.

        ...he still totally felt like a real man right now.

        His hands slid to her ass and he focused – or tried to focus – on his true love’s cooter. His tongue coiled up, trying to find a place inside her that brought the most quiet, happy gasps. Now, Merton wasn’t sure if being a mage made him supernaturally good at tonguing out a girl, or if Julia had just set her sensitivity to the max (which, to be fair, seemed eminently wise.) But either way, she was soon moaning her pleasure through  his cock like there was no tomorrow. The buzzing vibrations thrummed through his body and Merton had to draw his mouth back, quietly gasping.

        “J-Jesus, Julia!”

        “No, Julia Jesus,” she said, gasping as she jerked her mouth back – her hand continued to pump his cock with quick, eager motions. “Well, technically, Julia of Nazareth.”

        Merton choked out a laugh, then squeaked as Julia pressed her hips down and sat herself on his face again. Since she still tasted divine – and her sex was dripping liberally now – Merton was far from upset by this. His hands slapped onto her ass, squeezing her as his tongue slurped from clit to to cunt, thrusting in deep as he could manage. His tongue actually started to ache as he pushed himself harder and harder, his tongue swirling inside of her. It worked. Julia moaned against his cock and he felt her juices spurt against his mouth. He opened his mouth and drank her warmth as he let himself go.

        His balls clenched and a jolt of pure, fiery pleasure exploded from him. Julia managed to keep a hold on his member and drink as the first spurt filled her mouth. Then his surging, twitching cock escaped from her lips and he heard her giggle and squeak as cum painted her face, splashed against her chin. She moaned and shifted, arching her back, so that the next spurt coated her breasts. He could feel the faint patter of his own seed dripping down onto his belly and balls and cock as Julia giggled and whispered: “Hee! So much cum !”

        Merton slowly sagged his head back, panting heavily.

        The door to the bio ward opened.

        The four armed purple skinned chick pursed her lips as she looked down at the two of them.

        “So,” she said, her voice firm.

        Merton struggled to sit up, while Julia grabbed onto a sheet to wipe at her face. By the time Merton was upright, Julia’s face was mostly clean, save for a strand of cum on her chin. She licked it up shyly.

        “Uh, we were just testing it!” Julia said, quickly.

        “I can see that,” the four armed purple skinned chick said. “And good. But your training in pleasuring a dragon has been put on hold. The Baron Thresh has sent a las signal. His character is completed and he is ready for his first adventure and he is waiting in the gaming room.”

        Merton looked at Julia. A cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. “I thought it’d take him a week ,” he whispered, then stood. Julia slipped on her shirt as well. Her expression was just as grim as his.

***

        Bex sat across the table from Merton. Merton looked down at the five pages of character sheet he had been given. Bex’s handwriting was precise and perfectly neat, despite being done by hand. Slowly, Merton pointed at the statline.

        “How did you get this?” he asked. “Twenty five Strength, twenty two Dexterity, twenty four Constitution, twelve Intelligence, twenty five Wisdom, nine Charisma, six Comeliness?”

        “Flaws,” Bex said, his voice flat.

        “Ask a silly question, get a silly answer...” Merton muttered. He flipped a bit more and found where the Baron had listed his character’s flaws. Like D&D, Hackmaster relied on rolling three six sided dice to get your initial ‘statistics.’ Or, in other words, the rough physical and mental layout of your character. In Hackmaster, those stats were Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom, Charisma and Comeliness. The average human had a nine to twelve. The Baron’s character – a human zealot of Shona named Reikstand – had a twenty five  in strength. That meant that he added an obscene amount of damage to his attacks, was highly accurate, and could even bend metal with his bare hands.

        He was nearly untouchable in terms of his agility. His constitution was so great that he was exceptionally hard to kill and would regenerate wounds like a slightly slower Wolverine.

        And the worst thing was, he had followed the rules . In Hackmaster, you could improve your stats by taking randomly generated flaws. Reikstand was a one armed, one eyed, bald, flatulent, lisping burn victim with an intense phobias of spiders, horses and monkeys, pyromania, sadism, a superstitious belief in the power of the color green, an intense hatred of elves, dwarves, gnomes, paladins and bards. Oh, and he was missing his right pinkie finger, had no nose, and a bum knee. But then Merton saw the list of skills. His eyes widened.

        Somehow, Bex had gotten Circle Kick, Flying Kick, Backwards Kick, Choke Hold, One Finger, Pain Touch, Levitation...a series of martial arts abilities that would allow him to, if he was reading these rules right, do obscene amounts of damage with his bare hands.

        Which was…

        Oh no.

        Merton looked at the character’s equipment. He had been about to call out Bex on making a rules error. In Hackmaster, you couldn’t add more damage to your weapon than the max number on your weapon dice. So, if you had a longsword that did an eight sided die’s worth of damage, you could only add a max of eight damage to the roll. But the one exception that that? Unarmed damage. So, he was doing 1d6+13 damage with his punches and kicks. And he did three per round, with an initiative mod that meant he’d always go first, and an Armor Class so good that it’d take a miracle to hit him.

        Merton looked up at Bex.

        “Is it a legal character?” Bex asked. “I have read the rules extensively .”

        Merton’s throat worked in a gulp.

        It was a legal character.

        He couldn’t simply disallow Bex – trying that would lead to disaster.

        Merton set the sheet down, then slid it back to Bex.

        Bex took the papers. His nose flared and smoke roiled into the air as the red dragon grinned at the human Dungeon Master.

        “Well played, Baron,” Merton said. “But it takes more than good stats to win at Hackmaster.”

        “I am aware,” Bex said, his voice a low purr. “Shall we duel, oh god of this minute realm? I have to admit. I had never heard of humans. But if all your kind ever created was this astounding interplay of rules and imagination, of strategy and cunning, of mathematical elegance and pure artistry...then I think your race’s time spent evolving from the mire was worth it.”

        “I’ll tell Gygax,” Merton said. He picked up his d20. He shook it. “Lets roll dem bones.”

        In the amphitheater surrounding the gaming room, where Merton’s family and wife watched, tensions mounted. Relix chewed her knuckle as she looked at her husband.

        “Kick his ass, Merton,” she breathed.

        “Popcorn?” Julia asked, offering her a bowl.

        Relix looked deeply confused.

        Merton grinned, slowly. “Roll Observation, my good Baron.”

        And thus…

        The game was on .