Her eyes were closed, and she seemed unsteady, but she nodded.
He pushed the stick in deeper, and it went with some resistance, but not a lot. The satyr’s ejaculate squeezed out around it. He slid it slowly in until it encountered firmer resistance, six inches deep. He had hit the bottom of the well, filling her. The viscous liquid was welling out copiously.
Yet the satyr’s member had been longer. How had it gotten in?
“I stretched,” Fotina said languidly. “I think he pushed my vagina into my belly, but it didn’t hurt. I would never care to do that IRL.” Then she paused, reconsidering somewhat dreamily. “Then again...”
“Squeeze on it,” Pedro said. “So as to get as much as possible displaced.”
She tensed her belly, while he held the stick firm. More grease oozed. Then he let the stick slide out, as she continued to squeeze. “Like birthing a small baby, maybe,” she remarked, watching it emerge.
The stick was thoroughly greased, yet some remained in Fotina. But she was satisfied as she stood up straight; the drip was now comparatively minimal.
The whole business aroused and disgusted him at the same time. His penis was now standing.
She noticed, of course. “Go ahead,” she said. “Maybe you can displace some more.”
“You really don’t mind? My feelings are severely mixed.”
“I’m curious. Do it, before I fall asleep.” She resumed the hands on knees posture.
He moved behind her and put his stiff penis into her slot. It entered readily; there was hardly any resistance. The passage was, of course, quite well lubricated as well as enlarged, more mixed signals. In a moment he was at full depth, though it hardly seemed so. She could have absorbed another two inches length and one inch girth. He was impressed anew with the versatility of the avatar form. It really could accommodate in ways that might injure a real live body.
Nothing happened. He withdrew, and thrust, and repeated, but the aperture was so slick and loose that, in effect, he had no purchase. She had been so thoroughly stretched by the satyr and the stick that he felt almost as if his member was in warm water. In addition, his penis seemed to be becoming numb. He was unable to climax.
Embarrassed, he withdrew. “Can’t do it,” he said.
She turned around and kissed him. “I’m not surprised. You just had sex, and my vagina must be twice its usual diameter. It will surely recover, but I’m not sure there’s a point. We’ll have to question other satyrs and nymphs, and it may be easier if I remain stretched.”
“Good point,” he agreed. “You’re not upset that watching the satyr with you turned me on?”
“Watching you do the nymph turned me on.”
Which was about the best answer she could have given him. “I love you,” he said, kissing her again.
“I love you,” she said. “And now I know I can watch you have sex with other women, and you can watch me with other men, and it doesn’t damage our love.”
“That’s important,” he agreed.
“But now we need to get on with our mission, perhaps knowing a bit more what we’re in for.”
“Voluminous emissions.”
They laughed together and resumed walking along the path. According to the map, the trees were some distance ahead.
• • •
Fotina was glad Pedro had been able to handle it. Sex with the satyr had been more of a project than she had anticipated, and then the business with the excess ejaculate—in fact, that there was ejaculate at all—had complicated it. Then there had been his failure to complete sex with her. She was not at all surprised, because of her extreme looseness, but possibly she should not have encouraged him to try. She had learned that men did not like to fail. He could have felt humiliated, and it could have turned him off her. But he had admitted his incapacity while reaffirming his love for her. That was perfect.
However, their situation remained serious. She had not forgotten for a moment that six other players had come out here and not returned. The satyr and nymph had seemed forthright, wanting to breed out, but two things about that made her uneasy. One was the warning on the map, which was surely not empty. In what way could they not afford to trust the natives, since obviously they had been candid about their desire for sex? The other was the manner of the out-breeding. The nymph could have been impregnated by her sex with Pedro; animal—like, a single episode might suffice. She had gotten what she wanted. But Fotina herself had no intention of remaining on Horror World, even if it was only a crafted setting of the game. She would get food and ride their spaceship back to Earth. Even if she were pregnant, as the surprise manifestation of semen might make possible. That baby would be lost to this population.
They were not going to let her go. That was surely what had happened to the others. They were captive, for breeding purposes. Probably the men would be kept too, to continue breeding other nymphs, broadening the genetic pool.
Yes, it was all in the game. But, failure to recognize the real basis of the setting could wipe them both out of the game. She hadn’t said anything to Pedro yet, because there were too many uncertainties, but she would when she was sure.
Meanwhile all they could do was first, seek to locate and rescue their companions, and second, obtain a sufficient supply of food for the voyage. At least two others had to be saved, and the food mission had to be accomplished, or they could all wash out. The Poop restaurant sequence had been too close a call; she still shuddered at the thought of cooking and eating the baby. This could be just as bad, in its fashion.
“Fotina!” he said faintly.
He turned to him. “What?”
“You’re staggering. You must be really tired.”
“I don’t feel tired. Just relaxed. Very relaxed. When I relaxed inside, it helped me take him all in.”
“And my penis is numb,” he said. “Fotina—there must be a sedative property in that ejaculate! It made you relax and get sleepy, and it dulled my penis. That stuff is not just semen!”
She stood still, startled. “A sedative! That explains it. It must have numbed my vagina so that it could stretch all out of shape, and made me passive so it didn’t bother me.”
“Fortunately we got most of it out. But we need to eliminate the rest of it.”
“Yes!” she agreed. “Pedro, can you do it? I just need to lie down and rest a while.”
“I’ll try.”
She spread her netting on the ground and lay on it. In a moment she was asleep.
She woke after what she hoped was a brief nap to discover him reaming out her vagina with moss. “I think you got it,” she said. “I’m more alert now.”
“And my penis is back to its old self,” he said, drawing out the moss with his inserted finger. In fact, his member was erect, but she was not inclined to oblige it at this time. “The anesthetic doesn’t seem to last long, fortunately.”
“At least now we know,” she said, using her own finger to fish out the last of the moss. “The warning was right: do not trust the natives.”
“Amen. Are you able to walk now?”
She got to her feet. “Yes, I feel fine. Thank you for cleaning me out.”
“It was a pleasure,” he said, with half a smile.
She kissed him. “Some time you can do it when there’s not an emergency.” Then she reconsidered. “I don’t mean to be a tease. If you really want sex now—”
“No offense, but I think I’d better not. If there’s any trace of that stuff remaining in you—”
“Understood. I’ll give you a rain check.” She was glad to have offered, and to have been turned down, partly because she didn’t want to risk having him fail again.
He paused, then spoke diffidently. “When I was cleaning you out, I noticed something.”
“That my vagina turns you on?” she asked archly.
“Not exactly. It’s that you now have other orifices.”
“Mouth? Nose?”
“Urethra. Anus. Just like IRL.”
br /> “What? Those don’t exist in the game avatars.”
“Check yourself,” he said, embarrassed.
She put her hand down and checked. She found her anus. She poked a finger in. It was definitely more than a superficial marking. “You?” she asked, amazed.
“I have a rectum too,” he agreed. “And I can urinate. I tried. So can you, I’m sure.”
“But we don’t need to do any of that in the game,” she said. “We don’t eat, so we don’t eliminate. It’s that simple.”
“Yet our mission is to find food for our space journey. What point, if we don’t eat?”
This set her back again. “Each setting is different. This one must have eating, drinking, and all. But why?”
“I think we had better figure it out,” he said grimly.
“I think You’re right,” she agreed. “I wonder if the others didn’t, and it relates to their mischief?”
“I think it is distinctly possible. There are just too many oddities about this setting.”
She tried to remember. “I don’t believe there were such additional features of anatomy in the spaceship.”
“I doubt there were. Someone would have noticed, especially with the hands-on sex. Probably those features developed after we left the spaceship and port and entered the world of Horror proper.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Along with the ejaculate. I wonder what other surprises are in store for us.”
“I think we had better be completely alert. Even seemingly irrelevant details may count.”
“Someone must have had wicked enjoyment setting up this round,” she said darkly.
“And we had better stay together at all times. Even for private functions.”
“I will pee in your presence,” she agreed. “Even if it does turn you on.”
“Actually—”
“I was joking.”
“Beware such humor. Some men are indeed turned on by the sight of a woman urinating.”
She nodded, realizing that it was no joke.
Pedro checked the map as his penis declined. “We are approaching a boundary,” he said. “The next section is mostly water.”
“Which may feature water monsters,” she said. “We probably need to stay clear of it.”
“There are many lakes, but there are avenues between them on land. We can follow them, if nothing prevents.”
There was the rub. Something would prevent. But all they could do was continue.
They crossed into the next territory. Almost immediately, two more figures appeared: another satyr and nymph. These were swimming in the nearest water. Would they trade the same way as the first pair had done?
“Hello!” Pedro called as the pair approached.
“Hello!” the nymph answered. “I am Lake. He is Lather. Breed with us, please.” She found her footing and waded from the water. At the shoreline, she paused to shake her torso violently, flinging water outward. That did phenomenal things for her ample breasts, as she had to know. Women did not turn men on accidentally; not in a game like this. Indeed, Pedro’s eyes were appreciatively glued to her. He had, by now, recovered his sexual ability, and the nymph’s vagina was surely tight. He had not suffered penile numbness from sex with the prior nymph, only with Fotina when ejaculate was still in her. It was also evident that this pair had had contact with the first pair, and gotten the accents straight. They might be pretending innocence, but they knew the score.
“I am Pedro; she is Fotina. Why should we do that?” Pedro asked, following the script.
“We will answer questions,” Lake said.
That seemed to be the only way to relate to the natives. It was a game challenge to figure out the right questions, to make it possible to prevail. But now there were additional cautions.
“In exchange for sex,” Pedro said.
Lake put her hands to her voluminous hair and brought out an object that had somehow been concealed there. It looked like a small fruit, resembling a plum. “Gift,” she said, presenting it to him.
“Thank you,” he said. He took a bite, then handed it to Fotina. She tried it. It was sweet and succulent and surely nutritious; a sufficient supply of such fruits should enable them to make the long voyage home.
Meanwhile the satyr was emerging and shaking himself dry. His genital member resembled the other, being mounted in a state of chronic erection, and substantial. Fotina, having had experience with one such member, was intrigued; would it service her as voluminously as the first? Would her vagina stretch not only to accommodate the member, but further to hold in the abundant emission? There was something to be said for such copious copulation, at least as a curiosity. She would have to find a better way to clear it out, after, and rapidly. Getting poked with a stick was not ideal, and not just because it put Pedro into a less than perfect sexual mood.
“Very well,” Pedro said. “We know our companions are in a territory ahead. Are they alive?”
Lake turned and walked back into the water. When she was chest deep, she assumed the posture, bending forward and bracing herself with only her head above the surface.
“They like it in the water!” Pedro muttered.
“Why not?” Fotina asked. “This is the water region.”
Pedro waded into the water. He came up behind Lake, and evidently penetrated her from behind; all that was visible was their two heads, his close behind hers. He surely had hold of her breasts, too. There was a stirring of the water as he thrust and climaxed.
When he was done, Lake separated from him, not asking whether that was all; they had learned about the minimal emissions of the visitors. She faced him. “They are alive.” She swam rapidly away.
Fotina noticed another detail: there was no kissing or embracing. No words of love or passion. Simply the presentation and the sex. No follow up either; they left the moment it was done. It was a business transaction, rather than a romantic one.
Now it was her turn. “Are they captive?” she asked Lather, who was waiting patiently, absent-mindedly fingering his massive member.
He turned and waded into the water. Chest deep, he waited for her.
Fotina followed him. She assumed the position, only her head remaining above the surface. He came up behind her, found the place, put his hands on her hips, and shoved in. She might remain stretched, but not enough; his member was forcibly dilating her again. And there was another thing: no breast fondling. The first satyr had never touched her breasts either. Pedro had grasped the nymph’s breasts, on land and probably under water, so they had to understand about that, but it was not a turn-on for them. Maybe the females figured Pedro was just getting a firm hold so as to draw himself in more powerfully.
Lather seemed to achieve operative depth more readily than Brush had. Maybe it was the water, or preliminary lubrication, or her pre-stretched condition. Most likely he had simply learned how. There was a different cadence to his thrusting that somehow got him deeper with less force, almost as if he were screwing it in instead of hammering. Regardless, his member felt as if it were poking out of her vagina and into her stomach from inside. Then it blasted out its tankful of viscous substance, making her feel as if she were being blown up like a balloon. Indeed, she felt her belly expanding as if full of grease, again. The avatar form was definitely more malleable than the IRL form.
She was sharing the orgasm. She had been so busy observing other aspects that she had hardly noticed. Those other factors made it a different kind of experience. There were ways in which she liked it, oddly. Maybe that anesthetic quality enhanced the effect. Or being filled to bursting with hot love juice was a turn-on.
At last he ebbed, and pulled out. She felt her vagina clenching automatically, holding in the gelatinous ejaculate. That was a futile effort. She would spew it all out again when he was safely gone. She had to, before it overcame her personal independence.
“They are with the trees,” he said, and swam away.
That was the same answer the nymph had given Pedr
o previously. It wasn’t what she had wanted. Had she trusted him, and been deceived? Or, did she not properly understand the answer?
Well, at the moment she had another concern: to get as much of the ejaculate out as she could. She remained in the water, and compressed her stomach muscles. She bore down as if delivering a baby. She felt the stuff oozing out. She put her two hands down and used them to stir water into her open vagina, washing more of it out. She put her fingers in and tried to hook out more. It was far from perfect, but she was getting a fair amount out.
“I have an idea,” Pedro said, coming to her. “I can squirt water in, sort of a human douche.”
“That might work.” She waded to shallower water and bent forward, assuming the position again, but this time with her bottom just above the surface.
Pedro sucked in a mouthful, then put his mouth by her vagina and squirted out a jet. The water splashed against her crack without much going in. “Closer,” she said.
He tried again, this time putting his mouth right on her vulva. He blew out a blast of water, followed by air. She felt it pushing in, somewhat like the satyr’s ejaculate, then slopping out. “I think That’s doing it,” she said.
Then she felt something hard. She felt with her hand and found the lighter.
“Oops,” Pedro said. “I forgot that was in my mouth. I blew it into you!”
“You wanted to light my fire,” she said, returning it to him. He took it, but kept it in his hand.
He did the douche again, this time keeping his mouth pressing tightly on her hole so that the water couldn’t escape immediately. She felt the distension. Then came the air, as his mouthful of water ran out, and that added more pressure. It was odd yet interesting. Then he withdrew, and the bubbly water spewed out of her. The air seemed about as effective as the water. The whole process felt surprisingly good.
“Again,” she said. “Hold it in longer.”
He did it a third time, filling her with as much water and air as he could. She was sure that her vagina could never hold such a quantity IRL. But the feel of his mouth on her vulva, and the pressure inside her, was indeed a turn on. The avatar was evidently crafted to like being inflated, by whatever means.