Sanctum of Defilement Pt. 03

THE QUEEN IS BACK. No, not Elizabeth, she's still dead. It's SKARI SUNEATER, LEVEL ONE OVERLORD. This is a sequel to my previous Sanctum of Domination stories, so check those out if you haven't! Thank you for the tremendous positive feedback for those who have, however. They're my best reviewed stories by far! Who knew porny LitRPG stories that aren't intensely hetero would go over well?

This latest entry has trans themes, transformation, some corruption/MC play, bimbofication and a HEAVY focus on corruption. Mostly sapphic but I do mention some cuteboys briefly.

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Jane flicked through page after page on his tablet, looking for answers. VR had been around for decades, but Immersive VR, the kind that required the neural uplink, was relatively new. Plenty of tests had been done to assure regulators and the public that it was safe to use. The only deaths were because of overstimulation and physical neglect, the kinds of things that the cutoff safeties were supposed to prevent. Companies didn't want people dying in their product after all; it looked bad in the news.

Diving deeper into the research, or at least the blogs on the research that he could understand, he found some promising leads. There were a few documented cases where someone's physical or mental state would transfer between the virtual reality and the real world. The papers called this effect 'Bleedthrough'.

"That doesn't sound good," he muttered to himself, taking a big pull from his energy drink. Time had lost meaning. He had no idea how long he'd been staring at the screen.

"You find something?" Skari asked. She looked gorgeous as ever. Raven black hair that spilled down to her muscular shoulders, her lean and trim body looking quite fetching despite her wearing a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt with a video game logo. A strange look for her, given her usual attire.

He showed the tablet to the sorceress. "It says here that they found cases where people could be affected by what happened in the game. Feeling like they should be taller like their game character, or believing they knew how to fight because their avatar knew how. A kind of lingering not-rightness...like phantom limb syndrome."

"Ah yes. A sense that your body is not quite right. There's a word for that, you know." There was a poisonous edge to her words, and he didn't rush to request clarification.

"Anyways, at least there's precedent for what I'm experiencing. And it's a list of symptoms I need to be wary of in the future." He reached for the can of energy drink and took another long gulp. The metal in his hand didn't feel right. It had become warm, slippery. He looked over. It was a cock. It was her cock. Its throbbing, glistening head looked perfect. Delicious.

"Well?" she asked, looking down at him. Sitting in his chair, he was at the perfect height to just lean over and...

He opened his mouth and let her inside. He hadn't sucked off a woman before. Or had he? His head was so fuzzy, nothing was right. Except the dick in his mouth. That was where it belonged. He placed his hands on her tight buttcheeks to keep himself steady and let her take the lead, pushing herself deeper into his mouth. She tasted like salt and musk, and he let his tongue drag along her underside to take in every inch of her length. While she pistoned back and forth with a leisurely ease, she picked up the tablet from his hand and continued to read.

"It does seem like you're experiencing symptoms of this Bleedthrough effect," she agreed, her breath catching for a moment when he licked a particularly sensitive part of her tip, "But overuse of anything for long periods can cause negative effects. It might be best to reduce your time spent inside the machine. I and the others in the Planet of Perils will be there when you wish to return. I think we work well together, y'know?"

Jane nodded, though stopped when he realized that meant he wasn't pleasuring the cock in his mouth properly. As way of apology, he cradled Skari's sack with his hands, gently teasing them and massaging the orbs to induce production of his imminent reward. She increased pace, humping herself into his open mouth and using him for her own gratification. Precum spilled freely down his throat, lubricating it further. The sorceress's shaft twitched, and he could feel her clench back.

"I'm close," she said breathily, "Where do you want it?"

Without thinking, he pointed at his face. Getting covered in her thick cream sounded absolutely wonderful to him. For some reason, cum was on his mind. Her cum? His? His mind was so cluttered, it was hard to get the thoughts right. Thankfully, Skari could take the lead on this one. She pulled herself back and, with quick and efficient strokes, finished herself off.

"Here you go, slut," she said, then groaned with wild abandon as the first jets of sorceress spunk pattered against his forehead. The second shot glued his right eye shut, while the third covered his cheek on the opposite side. He grinned with facile glee as the last few weak spurts landed against his lips, allowing him to lick up the rest. Jane opened his mouth obediently to clean off any leftovers on her cock, making it gleam with his saliva.

"Mmm...thank you~" he said, the world melting around them.

She cupped his cum-covered face in her hand, lifting it to meet her gaze. "See? I told you we work well together. Now go on, Jane. I'll see you soon."

***

A harsh, cacophonous wailing snapped him up to a standing position, catching his feet from under him, then sending himself and the chair he'd been sitting in tumbling to the ground. He landed in a heap of limbs and plastic, mind still two steps behind what was happening. Awareness flooded in. He'd been sleeping at his desk. An alarm had gone off. Alarm? What alarm? Wasn't it the weekend still?

He crawled like a wounded soldier, pain from the fall still smarting, over to where his phone rested in its charging cradle. The alarm had been the one he set for the start of his working week. It was not the weekend, and he was about half an hour late!

"Fuck!" He scrambled to get dressed, looking all the worse for wear in the process. If he hurried, he might still have a job at the end of the day.

***

He'd hauled ass to work after a quick text to Chris to cover for him. No reply. He hissed out some choice curses, muffled by the general background noise of the packed bus. Every turn he leaned into, trying not to press against the other wage slaves. Something about his skin was strangely sensitive, and a woman who reached over to hold onto the same handle and brushed against his hand made him shiver. He blushed, hiding his face. Maybe he was worrying too much. Nervous system feedback, maybe. That Bleedthrough effect he read about.

Probably.

He sprinted off the bus at his stop, approaching the monolithic warehouse structure that loomed over the security gate. Skari's Sanctum had nothing on its intimidating presence. There were no driders guarding it, however. Just some security cameras, the badge scanners at the doors, and a single quadcopter. Any one of these could catch him being late, but Jane had a plan. It wasn't the first time he played off arriving late like he'd been off in the back fetching something. As a long time employee, he knew the ways to sneak into the building without being noticed. In through the back gate (which had a hole in the chainlink you could shimmy through), hang a left at the old gas pumps, up through the shipping dock that was always open this time of year to let fresh air in. Then it's just through the south end of the building...

He'd crossed the threshold of the warehouse before he noticed something amiss: no people. The building was largely automated, true, but there was always *some* staff about. He'd noticed nobody. Besides the drones, there was no motion in the yard. And there was no human movement at all in the warehouse itself. Several stocking drones stood still, their forks half-thrust into palettes or stopped in the middle of one of the cramped logistics corridors. Something was wrong. Deathly wrong.

He emerged from the southern stacks and heard a muffled voice coming from the centre of the room. Making his way over the dead conveyors, the voice grew louder...and more familiar.

"...this facility's record. And I'm not going to let that continue. Our corporation is a family, of course, but sometimes strict measures must be taken to keep things running smoothly."

Jane ground to a halt. He knew that voice. It haunted every team update, every mandatory meeting over their proprietary conference app.

Regional Manager Penelope Alfredo commanded the room, where all the human employees of the facility were arrayed in a loose arc around her. Every motion was straight out of a textbook on effective public speaking, every intonation of her voice practiced and rehearsed. At first she had her back to Jane, but as his coworkers noticed him emerging from the back, their attention drew hers.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Jane thought about diving behind the nearest forkbot. Then, realising that would make him look even more guilty, he resigned himself to a faint wave and a quick shuffle over to the tail end of the gathered staff.

"As I was saying: to ensure the smooth operation of this facility, I will personally be inspecting this installation and its functions for corporate. This will include individual assessments of personnel. In the next week I will bring you aside to discuss your present and future employment. For most this will be just a formality. For some," Her eyes fell on Jane for a beat longer than necessary before she continued, "This may mean corrective measures may need to be taken. Additional training, shifting of responsibilities or, at the extreme end, termination."

The meeting went on for another few minutes, but Jane was already checked out. Scenarios born out of anxiety ran through his head as she went on and on about whatever corporate platitudes they had sent her to deliver. Mercifully, she wrapped it up and told them to get back to work. The many drones in the factory lurched to life as soon as the vast majority of their sightlines were clear. Jane had almost made a similar escape when-

"Jane," Penelope said in a stern tone, "May I talk with you for a minute?"

It wasn't a request. He sagged his shoulders and made his way over, slowly, receiving a few sympathetic glance from his coworkers. Nobody wanted to be the one in this position.

***

The door to the manager's office slammed shut. It looked like Penelope had taken over the room, his actual boss' things nowhere to be seen. Had he been fired? Jane wanted to ask, but sensed that it wasn't the time for it.

The Regional Manager slid around the back of the large wooden desk, its surface bare save a single black tablet. No photos, no decoration, not even one of those novelty kinetic ball clacker things. She picked up the tab and scrolled through with lazy flicks of a finger. When she offered him a seat, he looked around for one and found that she was sitting in the only chair in the room.

"Oh, that's right," she said, touching her forehead. "I had the extra chairs removed. I'm sure I can have them brought back in if you would like."

Jane did all he could to suppress a scowl. Power Plays with seating, he thought, really? The fuck was this, a medieval banquet hall?

"I'll stand."

"Suit yourself. I'll be brief, so you can get to starting your shift." She placed her emphasis on the word 'starting' for a reason, he thought bitterly. "As a part of my auditing of this facility and its operations, I've been tasked with finding weak points. Areas that might get overlooked, but can prove disastrous to productivity in the long run."

A long pause followed as he waited to see if she was going to continue. But she didn't. She sat stock still, unblinking, using awkwardness like a Spanish Inquisitor might use a pair of heated tongs.

"I'm not normally late like this. I was dead tired and slept right through my alarms. It won't happen again."

She continued her silence, but at least returned to blinking. She picked the tab back and scrolled further down the screen.

"You've been an employee here for three years, seven months. Only a few notes on here, most of them positive. I don't see a reason I should recommend letting you go. I believe you have a lot to offer in your current position." She leaned forward. "But let me be clear: this is not a social engagement. From now on, your productivity and punctuality will be under a microscope. Any more unprofessional behaviour and I will certainly reexamine my position."

"I would like to reexamine her position," said a voice from within his head, "She'd look good on her knees."

His eyes bugged. It was the voice! The voice that had told him to...well, he'd heard the voice before at least. But what was it? Was he finally snapping?

"Is there something wrong?" Penelope asked. Quashing the powerful urge to scan the room for a third party he was pretty sure wouldn't be there, he instead gave a gentle shake of his head. She seemed to accept that. "At any rate, let this be a first And final warning to you. Lest you forget, you were a participant in our Housing Assistance program. I shouldn't need to elaborate what happens if you were to lose your employment."

He swallowed hard. Without the company's assistance, he'd never be able to afford his apartment. Especially not with his salary. He nodded, though the chill in his blood was moderated by a sudden glowing ember within him. A spark of something threatening to catch.

"Go on," the voice told him from within, "Tell her how you really feel. Tell her how she can take her empty corporate suit attitude and get fucked. Tell her that you'd love to see her bent over this desk and begging for it."

The words almost formed in his mouth before he controlled himself. Something was terribly wrong.

"May I return to my shift?" he asked instead.

"Hmm...I suppose. I'll send a note with your performance review information shortly."

Not even waiting for her to finish her sentence, he rushed out the door and back onto the second floor walkway that overlooked the vast, labyrinthine delivery warehouse. He gripped the handrailing and focused on the voice he had heard. He poured over every syllable, trying to put a cause to this development. It wasn't his voice, so it wasn't some repressed inner monologue. But it wasn't any other person's voice either. It was...something else.

He moved through his shift like a zombie, lost in self-interrogation. When his shift ended, he barely noticed, mutely packing up his belongings and shuffling onto the bus home. The voice hadn't returned. Maybe he'd imagined it, he thought, or another kind of Bleedthrough effect from the VR.

Jane pushed his door open and stumbled inside. Home. Sweet, sweet home. He didn't bother to eat, or even undress. He just stumbled into bed, closed his eyes, and awoke nine hours later.

The next 'morning', Jane had two options now. He could start job searching, preparing for the likely event that he might get fired. Then he could spend the rest of the day before his shift interrogating why there was a woman's voice in his head. Maybe even evaluate whether he should be spending so much time in VR if he was getting that kind of bleed into his waking life.

Or.

***

Returning once more to the Planet of Perils, progress around Skari had gone swimmingly. Instead of the dreary, dilapidated tomb, she stood in a stone hall fit for a monarch. Or at least, the bottom half of a stone hall fit for a monarch. The roof was still open, but the walls had crawled up at least twenty feet in most places. It was the length of a cathedral, giving her plenty of room for supplecants and grovelers. The stone of the old Skari's tower had been recut into its new shape, giving the hall an impressive scale if a somewhat rough appearance. Even now she saw one of the driders she'd 'hired' hard at work on a scaffold of spiderwebs, using a block and tackle of the same substance to lift a new chunk into place.

"My Queen!" announced a familiar voice. Calliope Honeydew the architect goblin stepped lively from her drafting desk to her liege's feet. At some point, she'd taken Skari's off-hand suggestion to get herself a hardhat. This took the form of an old iron helmet with a splotch of yellow paint, but the effect was nevertheless appreciated. Safety first, after all.

"You're making significant progress I see," the overlord said, hands on her hips as she looked up to watch the heavy block slide into place.

"I'm glad you like it, Skari the Magnificent! This will be your throne room, of course, with the throne the last thing we work on. The driders are surprisingly good stonesmiths!"

"Years living in caves will do that," commented Rakna, who approached from the far end of the hall. She kept her hands clutched behind her back, appearing for all the world like she was the boss.

"Has the relocation concluded?" Skari asked, putting a little more oomph into her voice to make it clear who was really in charge.

The spider woman seemed amused at the power play, but nodded. "Indeed. The last sleds with our belongings should be arriving soon. That raises the question of where we will be quartered."

"I'm sure we can spare some material for a barrack. Let me just..." Her words trailed off as she brought up the readout for the Sanctum on her HUD.

*Lair Status*

Lair Upgrade in Progress!

Upgrading to: Sanctum of Defilement, Level 1

Estimated Time to Functional State: 3 Hours 15 Minutes, Earth Standard Time

Time worked on a different scale in the game than in the real world, which allowed for a building to be completed in days rather than months or even years. Still, she had a while to go before she could properly lounge in her new Level 1 digs. She read on.

New Room: Throne Room

The centre of your authority, and a measure of your power. Sitting on the throne will bring up customization options not available in the standard menu, as well as allow you access to your domain's reserves of magical energy.

Expansions Possible:

Barracks: 50 Materials

Workshop: 50 Materials

Smithy: 125 Materials

Vault: 75 Materials

Specialized Expansions Possible:

Drider Den: 75 Materials

Requirements for upgrade to Level 2:

33/150 Materials

14/25 Labourers

3/10 Warriors

0/5 Tradespeople

1/1 Planner

From the readout, it appeared that she did not have the resources for living quarters after all. That was unacceptable! She couldn't have her workers sprawled out in her hall, doing god knows what to the staff...though the thought of Briggy in a classical maid outfit did have its own appeal. Either way, her workers and warriors would need a place to live and do their...activities, preferably one that was out of sight. That thought caused Skari to recall her conversation with Honeydew just before she'd left, and got an idea.

"Your team works with stone, yes? Perhaps you'd be interested in excavating the grounds underneath the old tower? There'd as like as not to be some rooms down there, if only cellars or dungeons or whathaveyou. If you were to remove the debris and clear it out, I grant you official dibs on the space. Anything you find down there is mine by rights, of course, but you'd at least have a place out of the sun and prying eyes."

Rakna rubbed her chin for a moment. "Hmm...that does sound like a deal that mostly benefits you, but if you're willing to let us grow glowcaps and breadmoss down there as well, access to any local groundwater...yes, I could see it being a palatable home. At least for the duration. There is the matter of meat, of course, but-"

"One thing at a time," Skari said, holding up a hand. "I already got like, 18 different things to juggle here. As soon as you're done with the Throne Room, you can start work on the excavation. Bring up any materials you think you can build with, as well. Going to need a lot more if this Sanctum is going to become a proper fortress."