Jackson in HRPG-World 01

Ian Jackson swatted the last goblin-thing with his sword. It hit the ground, disappeared, the victory music played, and then Jackson was back in the stone corridor. The monsters left behind thirty-one pieces of gold.

Supposedly.

Jackson never saw it. He never did. The gold was always transferred automatically to his inventory. Currently he was carrying 1,936 gold coins. In his pockets.

That wasn't all. He was also currently carrying twenty daggers, fifty arrows, seven swords, seven axes, three spears, eight wizard's staffs, two hammers, three shields, five helmets, sixty assorted bits of armor, six pairs of boots, a whip, and seventy-two medicinal herbs. And this was before even considering the slimeballs and other weirdness he didn't dare sell off in case it turned out to be useful later. In a rucksack.

It was kind of stupid when you thought about it.

Jackson tried not to.

It was a stupid world.

The corridor turned around to the right. He must be getting near the heart of the dungeon. Nothing had leapt out to commit suicide on the end of his sword for the last fifty paces.

The walls were made out of crumbling old stone, lit up at regular intervals with burning torches. Foul smelling water oozed out of cracks and dribbled down the walls. The corridor continued for maybe a hundred meters or so before turning right again. Jackson was more interested in the big wooden door situated in the right hand wall, about halfway down the corridor.

Such an obvious boss location, he thought. So predictable.

He walked down the corridor and stopped outside the door. It was big—more than two meters high and wide enough for two men to walk through abreast. It was also in considerably better condition than the rest of the ruins. The wood was bright red in color and the hinges were freshly polished brass.

This definitely led to the area boss.

Jackson paused and checked his status. The last fight had taken him up to level thirteen. He had some new skill points. He put them into Sword and noticed how the blade in his hand suddenly felt lighter. He cast Cure to take his health back to full.

A little over a week ago Jackson had been living a fairly ordinary, if dull, life as a software developer writing transaction processing systems for a bank. It was as interesting as it sounded, but it paid well and Jackson felt fortunate to have landed the job straight out of university. In evenings he spent his time playing console games and at the weekend he hit the bars to watch sports with the guys from work.

All that had gone to hell when he'd been sucked into a computer game.

It was a long story.

The ending was simple. Beat the game and he was out. No problem. Jackson was fucking shit-hot at computer games...

...but did it have to be a fucking Japanese Role-Playing Game?

Everyone knew fantasy JRPGs were the turdiest of turds in the gaming world. Well, apart from the old nerds that still went misty-eyed at the mention of Final Fantasy VII. At least in Tron, Garrett Hedlund had Beau Garrett in a skintight silver jumpsuit to drool over. Jackson had bug-eyed morons with memories that would shame a goldfish. On leaving the first village he'd managed maybe forty meters before a giant cucumber had sprung out of the undergrowth and attacked him with a spear.

JRPGs were fucking stupid, and he was trapped in one.

At least it would be easy. All JRPGs were. Kill monsters until you leveled up enough to kill harder monsters. Repeat until the end of the game. Whenever that was.

That was the problem with JRPGs, they dragged on for fucking forever. He knew from bitter experience. Those bastards had sucked up months of his life before he'd finally grown up and discovered GTA and real games.

Maybe he'd figure out some kind of strategic exploit. All these games could be broken in half once a smart player figured them out. The only problem was Jackson was still working through the dull-as-shit early stages. It had already taken him over a week to find this, the second dungeon.

At least he was at the boss.

Okay, let's do this.

He pushed the door open.

On the other side was a large throne room. Gaily-colored silk banners adorned the walls. The whole room was a massive contrast to the rest of the crumbling ruins. A thick red carpet scrunched beneath his sandals as he entered the room. Impressive chandeliers and candelabra bathed the room in a warm glow. At the far end of the room a golden throne sat on a raised dais.

So predictable.

A sexy and extremely sluttily-dressed girl sat on the throne. Demon girl to be more exact. As Jackson walked up to the throne she stood up and purple-black bat wings unfurled from behind her back. As well as the wings she also had horns and a long slender tail with the classic spade-like tip.

Not a bad collection of pixels, if you were into that kind of thing.

"Welcome to the lair of Moréhâgg the succubus, adventurer," horny fetish-bait said. "I'm going to enjoy playing with you."

"And ima gonna give your face a good turkey-slappin' wiv my penis," Jackson said.

Jackson had given up bothering to say anything sensible. It was a JRPG. No one had more than three lines of dialogue and it didn't matter what he said anyway.

Demonic perv-magnet pouted at him. "Wouldn't you rather I sucked it instead?"

Eh?

No time to ponder what he'd thought she said. He felt that strange swirly dislocation that indicated he was about to enter battle. His vision blurred and then cleared. He was standing in the same location, but everything around him appeared crisper, as if he was seeing it all at a higher resolution.

That included the succubus.

Jackson smiled and shook his head. So predictable. Didn't matter what age the game was aimed at, the dirty old developers couldn't resist sneaking in an obvious fetish fuel character for them and their audience of adolescent boys to perv over. Jackson used to be one of those adolescent boys before he'd grown up and realized how sad it was.

Moréhâgg was worthy of a good perv. She looked like filth incarnate. She possessed the mountainous silicone-enhanced peaks of a porn actress welded to an impossibly thin wasp waist—the kind of figure that could only exist in hentai. Her costume wasn't exactly there to preserve modesty. Her shiny purple top revealed more cleavage than it hid, and the glossy material was stretched almost to bursting trying to contain her abundant breasts. The eye-shaped clasp that held the thing together at her chest looked like it might pop at any moment. Most of her flat belly, including the little dimple of her navel, was exposed. Her long lithe legs were covered in kinky fishnet stockings that ran down to a pair of sexy stiletto heels. The stockings were attached to her waist with suspenders.

Fetish fuel. Pure filthy fetish fuel.

She was also the area boss. Jackson could tell—she had her own battle theme.

That was the other stupid thing. Every time he went into battle, music would start playing even though there wasn't a single musician in sight. Usually it was something wibbly-warbly that was meant to be rousing, but instead sounded like someone farting through a tin in a bath full of semen. Moréhâgg's music was different—slow and slinky. Dirty.

Wait!

Jackson noticed she wasn't wearing any underwear. He looked between her legs and saw a neat little bar of trimmed pubic hair and the shadowy cleft of her pussy.

This was...unexpected.

He remembered her words before the battle had begun. Had she actually said what he thought he'd heard her say?

Moréhâgg stood next to the throne and gave her long red nails a bored glance.

"Are you going to do something, or do I have to wait here all day?"

That jerked Jackson to attention. Yes, it was his turn.

He charged forwards and slashed Moréhâgg across her ample chest. He felt the impact and Moréhâgg doubled up. Thirty-one flashed above her head in floating red numbers. Then she stood back up straight and Jackson saw no visible mark his attack had hit her.

None of his attacks ever did. Jackson had slaughtered hundreds of stupid gonks in the ruins above and in the countryside leading up to them and his blade was still as pristine and shiny as if it had been freshly forged. Kids' game. No blood effects allowed here.

"Is that all?" Moréhâgg taunted.

Jackson knew he'd damaged her from the numbers he'd seen flash above her head.

She looked down at his sword.

"No wonder. You're still using that? Why didn't you get the better one at the last town?"

"Waste of money," Jackson muttered at his toes.

Never buy weapons. There was always the same or better hiding in the next chest. That's how JRPGs worked.

The demon girl threw a fireball at him and he smoothly dodged it. He didn't know how much health she had left. Probably not much. The fetish fuel enemies were usually pretty flimsy, but they often made up for it with lots of annoying status-changing attacks. Best if he finished this quickly. Time to use...

"Oh, are you going to use one of your special attacks?" Moréhâgg asked. Her eyes shone with excitement.

Who was this? She was the first character Jackson had encountered that seemed aware they were in a world constrained by weird videogame rules.

"Come on, let's see it," Moréhâgg said eagerly.

Jackson took up a stance with his sword. He hated this part.

"Aww, are you embarrassed," Moréhâgg said. "You know it doesn't work if you don't call it first."

Jackson knew. Unfortunately.

"Super Slash," he muttered through gritted teeth.

Stupid Japanese anime conventions. She was right though, it didn't work unless he called it first. Jackson hated that. It always made him feel like the dorkiest Dork McDorkien.

The succubus put a hand to her mouth and giggled.

Flames flickered along the edge of Jackson's sword.

Laugh this off, bitch, he thought.

He charged and hit her with an upward stroke that flung her backwards. Seventy-one flickered above her head in red numbers.

Yeah! That's more like it.

"Like that, huh," Jackson said. "After I beat you I'm going to use this 'bad' sword on you like a dildo. If I'm feeling nice I might even insert it hilt first."

"Ooh, kinky," the succubus said, standing back up with a smile on her full lips.

She threw another fireball. This time Jackson blocked it with his shield, taking no damage.

"But it's your other 'sword' I'm interested in." The succubus glanced down at Jackson's waist. "Even if it looks a little small."

What the fuck!

"Fuck you!" Jackson shouted.

He connected with another sideways slash and thirty-one flashed above Moréhâgg's head.

"Fuck using my sword. I'm going to shove a hammer up there instead. No, one of my shields!"

Moréhâgg spun back around to face him. For all her exaggerated curves, her moves were as fluid as a dancer's. She placed a long finger against her silky smooth cheek.

"You seem a very angry young adventurer. It's time to use one of my special attacks. I think you'll like it." Her red eyes twinkled as she smiled at him. "How about it? Would you like to see my Puff-Puff attack?"

Jackson shook his head. Puff-Puff. Really. Those wacky Japanese, always trying to get crap past the radar.

"Isn't that some lame euphemism for rubbing your titties in my face."

Moréhâgg smiled. She placed her hands on either side of her swollen breasts and squeezed them together. Jackson almost expected to hear some kind of stupid boing sound effect.

"Why don't you close your eyes, relax and enjoy it," Moréhâgg said with a voice like crushed velvet.

"Yeah right," Jackson said. "And when I open them you'll be rubbing two of those stupid slime creatures against the side of my head. Or it will be two sheep rubbing their asses against me. Don't bother trying to tease me. I know this is an E10 game. There's no way you're getting your tits out."

Moréhâgg pounced, knocking Jackson on his back and pinning him to the floor. She straddled his chest and unhooked the catch holding her latex corset-thing together. Her breasts—big, pink and extremely bouncy—bobbed free.

They were...impressive.

"You were right with the first guess," Moréhâgg said with a lascivious smile. She caught her swaying mammaries and cupped them in her hands.

Jackson looked up at the swaying mounds of creamy-pink flesh. He clearly saw the perky little pink points of her nipples. What the fuck was going on here? This didn't happen in battles. They all followed the same ridiculous yet inviolable laws.

Moréhâgg's red eyes twinkled. Her moist lips pouted as if for a kiss. "Puff-Puff," she breathed.

She fell forwards, burying his head in the warm space between her large and extremely soft boobs. Jackson lay back, unable do anything as she covered his face with her bosom. She twisted her upper body from side to side and Jackson felt the soft mass of her heavy breasts paff his head one way and then the other.

Giggling, Moréhâgg pressed down harder. Her arms went around the back of his head and she scooped him up into the smothering embrace of her cleavage. Jackson's head, wedged up between her soft boobs, moved from side to side as she twisted her body. Her skin felt like the smoothest silk as it rubbed against his cheeks. His nose and mouth were pressed so tightly into her chest it was hard to breathe.

Moréhâgg had no intention of suffocating him just yet. She let his head fall away enough to allow him to take a breath. He inhaled air saturated with the heady musk of her body. Laughing, she paffed his head with her swinging breasts. Then she was pressing down again and squeezing her tits together around his face.

"What do you think, adventurer? Nice aren't they. Have you ever felt a pair as warm and as soft as this?"

Jackson hadn't, although he couldn't admit that. His mouth was filled with her overflowing chest. She let him take another hasty breath and then started squeezing her boobs against the sides of his face again, squeezing them like they were super-soft rubber balls.

Was this an actual attack? What kind of fucked up game was this?

Actually, it felt pretty sweet.

At least up until the point when Moréhâgg didn't lift up to allow him to take a breath. Instead she responded to his squirming struggles by pressing her chest down even harder, smothering him as effectively as if she'd placed a pillow over his face.

"I need you nice and pliant for my other moves," Moréhâgg said.

Jackson wriggled as he tried, unsuccessfully, to squirm out from under her. His lungs were aching.

"And now my other Puff-Puff attack."

She lifted her smothering bosom. Her breasts shivered and two thick purple clouds of perfume puffed out of her nipples...

...right as Jackson sucked in a much-needed lungful of air.

Ohhh...

The fumes rushed up to his brain and sent it sailing away on fluffy, perfumed clouds. He lay back on the floor and felt all his muscles relax as the tension drained from his body. Well, not all of it. Down between his legs he felt a great deal of tension straining against his underwear.

"Time to make you a little more comfortable," Moréhâgg said. "It's far too hot in here to be wearing all this leather armor."

She went straight to his groin, undid the buckle and pulled down his leather leggings. Jackson didn't resist. He thought he might be hallucinating as there were little dancing pink hearts floating in front of his vision. Moréhâgg pulled away his cotton underwear and his cock bobbed up like a hypnotized snake.

"Ooh, nice," Moréhâgg said. She ran a moist tongue around her glossy red lips.

The hearts went away. Jackson noticed the comfortable paralysis that had kept him still had ended. He could move. He tightened his grip on his sword.

The succubus noticed too.

"Humph. Lucky roll," she pouted. "The entrancement should have lasted for at least another two turns."

Rolls? Turns? What was she?

Jackson started to raise his sword.

Moréhâgg poked his wrist with a single finger. "Block."

Jackson's hand fell back onto the floor.

Moréhâgg shifted position. The pink mountainous peaks of her naked breasts loomed over Jackson's face.

"Double Puff-Puff."

Her nipples were already expelling more clouds of perfume as she dropped down and mashed Jackson's face up between the soft pillows of her breasts. Mewling in pleasure, she rubbed them against his face. Jackson's vision vanished beneath jiggling pink flesh. Moréhâgg made a lot of indecent noises as she smothered him with her tits. Three times she pressed down hard enough to cut off his air, and three times she allowed him breaths tainted with her cloying, magical perfume.

At the end of it 'Jackson is enthralled and cannot move' was scrolling through his head like a child's first attempt at a goto program. A silly grin was plastered on his lips and his cock was throbbing hard enough to burst.

"Better," Moréhâgg said. "That should keep you still for a while."

Jackson couldn't move, but other than that his thoughts were relatively clear...apart from the distraction provided by his raging hard-on. Moréhâgg squatted right above it. Her vagina was completely exposed, naked and not even pixelated. Jackson's cock wasn't pixelated either.

This had gone way beyond lame innuendo. She was really going to fuck him. That couldn't be right. Even the sleaziest of game developers wouldn't dare going this far.

Well apart from that crazy dude who'd made that fucked up monster girl game.

"Um, isn't this a children's game?" Jackson said. "E10+?"

Moréhâgg cocked her head. "You're over eighteen aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then quit complaining."

She sat down.

On his cock.

Unable to move, Jackson watched as his throbbing hard-on slowly vanished inside her. It felt like he was pushing up inside a cup of some kind of warm, soft, gooey substance. Moréhâgg sighed as she reached the base of his penis. Her labia puffed up, forming a tight cuff around the root of his cock. Her pussy wriggled around him and a thick cloud of pleasure diffused down his shaft and through his body.

"Oh yes," Moréhâgg sighed.

She closed her eyes. Her left hand squeezed the firm globe of her breast. Her pussy stopped wriggling and instead squeezed tightly around him, packing her soft squishy tissue up against every over-sensitized millimeter of his throbbing hard-on.

Jackson's mouth fell open.

That felt nice.

At least until the familiar slap he felt every time an enemy's attack hit him. Forty-four flashed above his head in red numbers. Moréhâgg gave a contented sigh. Forty-four flashed above her head in green numbers.

She was draining his health points to replenish her own?

Her pussy relaxed, feeling again like a cup filled with warm gooey jelly.

"Mmm." Moréhâgg shifted position. Her chest, and the pleasant curves of her breasts, rose as she drew in a relaxed breath.

She breathed out and her pussy pressed tightly around his cock with a moist squish. Jackson's legs quivered as he felt her soft flesh squeeze his erection with a pleasant pulsing motion.

The pleasure was again forestalled by a slap as forty-four flashed above his head in red numbers. The same number appeared above the succubi's head in green.

She gave an indecent sigh. Her cheeks reddened. Both of her hands squeezed the bulges of her tits together.

"This is my second favorite action," Moréhâgg said. "Do you like it."

"I'm not sure I like what it's doing to my health points," Jackson said.

Moréhâgg tipped her head back and laughed. She shifted position in his lap, bouncing against him with little rocks of her hips. The gooey flesh of her pussy pressed tightly against his cock in another smothering embrace. Snugly gripped, Jackson felt more pulsing little sucks run up his throbbing shaft.