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An Infinite Recursion of Time
Crossing the Line (3)

Crossing the Line (3)

The million dollar question I faced while striding away from Soh'fia's room was whether to spend my afternoon going to Dakka's for the tree elf, or doing literally anything else.

There was no reality in which visiting Dakka's Magic Emporium didn't end in some form of sex one way or the other. The question was whether I wanted back-to-back fuck sessions two days in a row, on top of having just had my balls literally drained dry by whom I had now dubbed the Vacuum Elf. Surprisingly, my little Richard was giving me the thumbs up, a sign of me being a sex god with limitless stamina, but that wasn't a reality I wanted to directly confront right now. I could only imagine the hell elves would unleash upon me if they realized my human dick never got tired. Nightmarish visions of me being tied to a tree with only my dick presenting outwards as a line of horny elf women hundreds long lined up to use me as a living dildo flashed through my mind. Day in, day out, no food except what they mouth-fed me during kisses, no drink except the squirts of pussy juice they unleashed while pressing their crotches against my face... There was a fate worse than death, and it was having limitless sexual stamina in an elvish city.

I shook my head and sighed. My thoughts were getting increasingly sexual. Really, "when in Rome, do as Romans do" was something of a misleading statement. One didn't necessarily choose to do as Romans did. The peer pressure of the surrounding culture would eventually mold you into a Roman whether you liked it or not. It all had to do with superior and inferior thoughts, and how we maintained our identity.

You see, we can conceptualize our sense of identity and belief structure as a series of foundational blocks at the bottom of our psyche. When presented with a fact of reality early in our youth ("apples are red"), it neatly becomes a foundational block in our mind, upon which later facts are built ("apples are red, and round"). It stops being something we question, for it is so foundational; when was the last time you consciously questioned whether apples are red and round? Do you ever pause to think about whether apples are gray and square, actually? No. All of your life has shown you that apples are red and round (or green and round, but you get the point.) It's a subconscious thought, an inferior one, in the unconscious of your mind, supported not by arguments but by memories of the reality you have experienced.

But what would happen if you were to suddenly be presented with a gray and cubic apple? You would falter, for in your mind apples are red and round. You would have to dredge up this foundational block about apples and turn it into conscious thought once more. "That is not an apple!" you would declare. "Apples are red and round. I have seen them, my friends have discussed them, etc." You would turn your inferior understanding of apples to a superior one, a conscious one with arguments rather than an unconscious one with nothing but vague memories. You would present your logical case for apples being red and round, rather than simply knowing that to be the case unconsciously.

That would work at first, but what if you spent 10+ years in this new world of gray and cubic apples? Would you truly protest every time you saw gray and cubic apples, repeatedly telling tales of red and spherical apples? Would you truly be capable of dredging up old arguments forever? No. Over time, the gray and cubic apples would weed their way into your mind as reality. They would replace the red and spherical apples as your foundational block regarding what apples are. Eventually, you will think nothing of gray and cubic apples (despite your former protests), and in fact be more surprised to see a red and round apple.

Now, replace "apples' with more general beliefs or lifestyles. Let's say you grew up thinking cartoons were cool, and then you entered an environment (high school) where all your friends and associates mocked cartoons. You would need to dredge up your belief that cartoons are cool, this foundational belief, and turn it into arguments: rational debate in favor of cartoons, while the world mocked you for ever daring to say such a thing. Eventually, you will be so used to cartoon hate that you will likely start to think they have a point, since few men are strong enough to continue arguing their stance against opposition for months or years, and before long you will be more surprised to see someone thinking cartoons are cool than anything. So it goes that we lose ourselves to the environment we put ourselves in.

There are more pernicious and less amusing examples of this, of course. To say nothing of how the world beats the hope and idealism out of children, to say nothing of how society trains children to have no dreams beyond serving as a cog in the machine, there are classic examples such as radicalization, where normal individuals become radicals simply by putting themselves in an environment where radicals whisper into their ears at all times. It would take a mind of steel to interact with radicals and not have their words poison your blocks, their apples replace yours; all one has to do is visit a racist forum or image board, and within months you will find the racism polluting your mind, for their ideas and arguments will have formed foundational blocks in your mind against your will, just like "apples are round' became a foundational block against your will. It is simply how the human mind functions.

My point is thus. I am surrounded by huge fucking sluts that constantly want to have sex. No matter how strong my spirit is, no matter how strong my blocks of purity and chastity may be, my environment consumes me. My blocks are replaced. My mind brainwashed. To remain yourself in a differing environment is like trying to remain a proud block of salt after being dropped in the ocean. The human mind is not built for it, and I do not have the iron will to close myself off from the slutty fucking elves pawing at my dick.

I see them now as I walk down the wooden road down Koh'rin; I see the tree elf women pausing their work to sniff the air, despite not having ever seen me. I see the double takes. I see the women who turn around and walk my way until they realize I have begun sprinting specifically to avoid them. And I'm not even surprised by how they are drawn to me. This is just how the world is to me now. It's a matter of course, like a red apple.

Friedrich Nietzsche has an oft-quoted line that goes like this: "Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster... for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.” The quote has become something of a joke, I think, because he uses the examples "monster" and "abyss." Those words conceptualize evil, and draws to mind vampire hunters, or those challenging arcane knowledge. But it never meant anything that grandiose. It never meant to conjure images of fantasy and exaggerated evil so strong that everyone missed his point. What he meant was something much more closer to this:

"Beware that, as you strive to be yourself, the world will strive to change you... for when the slutty elves gawk at you, you too will gawk at the slutty elves." - Malcador the Hero

......

And so it came to pass that I was standing in front of Dakka's Magic Emporium, boner straining against my pants with anticipation. I had to get out of elf city. If I spent one more fucking week here I wouldn't want to leave. I would be changed forever. I would go to, fucking, some human civilization on business and just be hurt and confused when everyone wasn't trying to get in my pants. I had to get out. I had to get out while I still had a fraction of my pure identity still in me.

I considered myself something of a rational person, and I tried to follow a mantra, wherein I asked myself the following questions frequently to stay on track: "Why are you horny, and why do you think you're horny?"—I tried to be self-aware at all times and notice whenever I was horny, so that I could consciously act against the horniness. But I was increasingly finding myself not questioning my horniness here in elf city. For it is a sad rule that whenever you are most in need of your art as a proud nofapper, that is when you are most likely to forget it.

Enough stalling. It was time to fuck Dakka.

I strode up the steps of her tree feeling equal parts elated and uneasy. On the one hand, Dakka was extremely hot. On the other hand, it felt like I was almost having too much sex. I had gone from avoiding Hilda's sweaty grasp to fucking her, getting a blowjob from a princess, then striding immediately to what was essentially a dark elf fuckbuddy. This really did feel like overkill; I decided to stay in Koh'rin a bit to train and prepare for the dwarf hold, not to fuck every named woman in quick succession.

Okay. I'm going to rush to grind Natural magic as high as possible, then we're gone. No more fucking elves after this. Stay strong, Malcador.

Upon reaching the top I found Dakka's store more busy than it had been the previous times; she was speaking to a customer over the counter, and there were a few others milling about, all dark elves. I leaned against the door and waited. It seemed to me the chad thing to do would be to wait for her to notice me rather than start waving or something. And so I did.

A minute or so passed before she glanced away from the customer at the counter and saw me. She balked for a second, then hurriedly said some words to the customer. He looked confused, but she wasn't patient enough to wait for him to understand; she grabbed his arm and started dragging him to the door while calling out to the customers. This time, it was loud enough for me to hear.

"Everyone out! We're closing early!"

"B-But I haven't paid for the books y—"

"OUT!"

She literally threw the guy out the door, and everyone else shuffled out as fast as they could, intimidated by the intensity of her voice. She then turned to me.

"You scum. You couldn't even wait until business hours were over? You had to make me damage my reputation like that?"

"I mean, I didn't make you do anything."

She scowled. "It's about the implication. The blackmail you have over me and your presence alone speak volumes, even if you pretend they don't."

For the record, as a reminder, I had no blackmail over her whatsoever. She was just pretending, which meant I had to roleplay in turn, to make her happy or whatever.

I nodded. "I'm glad you understand. Now, I have reason to believe..." She held up a hand, cutting me off.

"Wait. Let's go somewhere more private, in case someone overhears."

I shrugged. She walked off, and I followed after, wondering if she had a torture room in own tree for just this occasion. One might use this opportunity to wonder just how much sex elves have, but it was important to remember that the high elves basically made combating the slutty nature of elves to be their primary political platform (veiled behind the more blatant racism against humans). Humans were rarely ever allowed in the city, with our party being allowed only due to Rose's political connections, to my understanding. Most of these women, including Dakka, had probably never even seen a human man before. Their usually dormant instincts just kicked into overdrive the moment they saw or smelled me, apparently. It would be funny if it wasn't so tragic for everyone involved.

In any case, Dakka took me to a... well-furnished bedroom? With a carpet, nice bed, and... no torture implements from what I could tell. Huh.

She scattered some rose petals on the bed, then turned to me. "Well, human? Spit it out. Why are you here?"

"It's to my understanding that you have a tree elf locked in your basement."

"I'll never tell you, scum." She spat.

"Oh no. I guess I will have to torture you," I said flatly. I really wasn't good at roleplaying. Elves were good at staying in character no matter the context, at least.

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Dakka began stripping off her armor. "Sickening. It's always the same thing with you humans. We elves will never know peace from your evil."

I leaned back and watched as she stripped. A light stream of juices was already trickling out of the crotch of her leotard-esque chest plate, and once it was off I saw the tightly fitting silk undershirt she wore beneath her armor. No panties, though, and once the shirt was off I saw the familiar nude form I had seen before. She had muscular abs, but not too muscular, and they served to emphasize her firm yet sizable boobs. Her pink nipples (already erect) contrasted beautifully with her brown skin and filled me with a hunger, like the urge to lick up the strawberry on top of a piece of chocolate cake.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

She turned to move to the bed and I got a full look at her bare ass and legs. Her ass was definitely her most noticeable feature; it was massive and perfectly heart shaped, like two gigantic melons stuck together. Her hips swayed seductively as she walked, which seemed to be on purpose to me. She climbed onto the mattress on all fours like a dog, thrusting her ass in my direction.

"Well? Do your worst, scum. Make my hell end quickly."

I walked over to the back of the bed, and as I approached she began swinging her ass side to side, like a dog wagging its tail. The juices leaking from her pussy were spraying across the room, splattering both the carpet and my face. Now this didn't seem like it was on purpose; it was just pure instinct, the compulsion to sway one's ass provocatively to seduce a mate. And consider me seduced. There was not a man alive who could see such a perfect, swaying ass and not go to town.

Upon climbing onto bed myself the first thing I had to do was grip her ass to stop the swaying, which felt comparable to stopping a dump truck with my bare hands; I felt my wrists crack and almost break from the sheer momentum of her fat ass. Her ass was more supple than expected, with it having a nice bounciness that stopped my fingers from sinking in too deep. I took a second just to appreciate the sensation and give a few squeezes.

"Ngh! Human scum, treating me like a toy... Hurry up! Do what you're going to do! Hurry!" She pushed her ass against my crotch and rubbed, her bare cheeks putting warm, incredible-feeling pressure against me. I took a moment to lower my pants and unveil my hard dick, earning a gasp of breathy delight from her. I said elves were good at roleplaying, but that lasted exactly until the dick was out.

For a minute I played with her, rubbing the entrance to her sopping-wet pussy with the tip of my dick but not actually inserting. She groaned with displeasure and kept pushing her ass against me, trying to dig it inside, but I avoided it each time. I heard mutters of "Despicable..." and "Torture indeed..."

Eventually, I showed mercy. I pulled my hips back and gave one powerful thrust inside, my hips hitting her springy ass so hard I actually got bounced back a bit. Juices squirting from her pussy and she let out a beastly moan, throwing her head back with her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Her tongue was hanging out, and as I started to thrust repeatedly, she started to pant and moan constantly. She had transformed from an elf to a beastly animal in the blink of an eye; she couldn't even speak comprehensible words now if she wanted to, I would bet.

Which was strange.

Look, maybe now isn't the time for some monologuing, what with me actively in the process of pounding a dark elf from behind while squeezing her ass and listening to the sweet symphony of her breathless moans, but this whole thing seemed strange somehow. Surely not even an elf would react like this to some simple thrusting... Okay, maybe they would, but consider Hilda. She lost her goddamn mind and I had only thrust a single time with her. It felt like women, including Soh'fia during her blowjob, were experiencing literally brain-shattering pleasure just from coming in contact with my dick, to the point that me actively thrusting like this being enough to actually break their mind, considering how Dakka went from roleplaying to "gibbering moans" in the span of literally seconds. Something was up.

"Check Status," I said idly while pounding my hips against Dakka's fat ass.

General Information Attributes Skills Name Malcador Name Value Name Level Species Human STR 546 Sex 100 Sex Male DEX 482 One-Handed Blades 58 Age 18 AGI 428 Dodging 42 Class Hero (Level 9) END 428 Athletics 40 HP 856/856 (4.28/sec) INT 375 Cursed 27 MP 750/750 (+3.75/sec) WIS 375 (more...)

SON OF A BITCH!

Two things immediately stuck out to me. First of all, to get it out of the way, Hilda had literally sucked a level out of me. I got a single level up in this god-forsaken elf city and the vagina of a gothic temptress sucked it right back out of me. Was my goal here not to make the numbers go up? Is my dream not power? I fell to temptation and fucked a succubus, and now the Goddess was punishing me by depriving me of my singular hard-earned level. Unbelievable. Hilda's pussy game was literally so strong she activated a move so legendary that not even Dark Souls was willing to recycle it from Demon's Souls. I guess she had gotten significantly more powerful in the process, too.

The most fucked up thing was that I could munchkin this a bit by cycling through grinding EXP and fucking Hilda in a sweaty loop of passion and blood. But that was not a reality I wanted to live in, especially since Hilda apparently came close to killing me in the process. And it would all be undone if the autosave I was expecting didn't come anyway.

The second thing was that I had silently been given a Sex skill capped at level 100. It didn't seem to be giving me any attribute bonuses, but still, what the fuck? There is a canonical lore reason for me being a sex god that can make women cum through insertion alone? Call me crazy, but I was starting to feel kind of like a piece of meat. I was being made into a muscular chad against my will, and now I was a sex god against my will. The Call of the Hero was even more unsettling than I had ever dreamed of. I thought getting one's village burned down was bad enough, but apparently it also involved your very body and soul being molded into the gigachad of every woman's dream. I never gave consent for this. I never asked for this. But now it was just who I was, whether I liked it or not.

Dakka let out an ear-splitting moan as she came for the countless time, my waist crushed beneath her ass as she pushed it against me with all her might, wanting my dick as deep as inside of her as physically possible.

OK maybe it wasn't so bad. I could hardly weep "I didn't ask for this!!!" while in the process of fucking a 10/10 dark elf babe that was in a nigh-constant state of orgasm just from having my dick inside of her. There were unsettling implications to this, and I could hardly feel proud of reducing a strong, independent woman to a slobbering cum-addicted mess within a single second of dicking her, but well, it seemed that was just the reality of this world. This fucked up, bizzaro world.

Was this world made for me, or did the world make me for it?

I put that thought out of my mind and slapped Dakka's ass, her creamy brown asscheek reddening from the blow. She shuddered in delight—dark elves were famously masochistic, and her pussy squeezed lovingly around my dick as if to remove all doubt that she didn't play into that stereotype.

It occurred to me that Sex Level 100 meant I could cum at will, and if I wanted to I could just keep pounding away at her perfect ass until the sun set, hours upon hours of the mind-blowingly good sex for us both. One of the greatest concerns troubling modern humanity was the reality that once full-dive VR recreated sex perfectly, the human species would be finished, because in that moment, we would all collectively abandon our lives to throw ourselves into a never-ending digital sex orgy. All pretenses would be lost, and as a species we would stop pretending that civilization was anything but increasingly elaborate ways to secure sex. Right now, what I was facing down wasn't the arched back of a moaning sex goddess. I was facing down the existential threat my entire species faced. I had laughed in the past that a single human man could conquer this elf city, but it was the reverse all along. These elves could end humanity with a single squeeze of their soaked, delicious pussies.

Roaring in defiance, I thrust forward one last time, for the sake of my future and the future of humanity. I unleashed a flood of cum directly into her womb, refusing the siren's song that tempted me into fusing my hips with her ass for the rest of eternity, a sweaty embrace that would end only when the last star twinkled out. My rage and defiance crashed through her cervix and drowned her eggs in a sea of virile human seed as both our brains exploded in white flashes of orgasms. I pulled back, falling off the back end of the bed, and Dakka collapsed onto the bed sprawled out like a starfish, cum gushing from her pussy as her flood of juices continued to grow the stain that was increasingly consuming her entire bed.

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Minutes passed as we both recovered from that experience.

I marked down having sex with Dakka, or any other thick as hell dark elf, as a God-Level threat. The time loop wouldn't protect me from a crippling sex addiction and obsession with perfectly round dark elf asses. I would be trapped forever in a prison of my own design, beelining straight to Dakka and going wild until Sauron himself clobbered me in the dick. Sex Level 100 was just too dangerous, for everyone involved. Lust is the mind-killer.

It was like I had said way earlier. Elves and humans should never have met. A species with physiology designed for a single sexual experience with their soul mate, and a species with physiology designed for nigh-constant fucking to ensure en-masse pregnancy. The union was simply too dangerous, especially when sex gods and goddesses were involved.

With that aside, I climbed to my feet and walked to the side of the bed. Dakka was still convulsing, her tongue hanging out of her mouth and drool staining her pillow as her ass occasionally bounced into the air, as if expecting my dick to be up there.

"So, Dakka. Where's the tree elf?"

"Bkljhahha...." she moaned. Not enough time had passed; her mind was still fried from the, what, fifty orgasms she had had? I didn't even know. If I counted every squeal or grunt she made I would have had to start using scientific notation to keep up.

Not really knowing what else to do, I grabbed the keychain off her discarded armor and climbed the stairs down to the bottom of her tree. Maybe the elf was just chilling or something.

It took a decent bit of climbing down, with the wooden walls turning to turn with roots running through it as I reached the basement. There was a locked wooden door, which one of the keys successfully opened. Inside was a wood elf sitting on a chair and reading a book. A chain ran from the wall to a bracelet locked around his foot.

"Damn. She actually did have a tree elf chained up in her basement," I said aloud.

He looked up from the book. "And you are?" he asked. He didn't seem surprised to see me, which made sense, given that she had hinted at using him to tutor people in treesinging. He probably had a lot of random visitors.

"Just a guy interested in Nature Magic." I sat down in a chair across from him, with a table between us. "Could you demonstrate your beginner level spells for me real fast?"

He looked me over. He looked at the door, where Dakka was decidedly not. Then he shrugged. "Sure."

He taught me Poison Spray first, then Enhance Senses, then Talk to Animals. There were no animals around, but a mixture of Poison Spray, Enhance Senses, and Create Water rapidly advanced my levels in Natural. It struck me that Enhance Senses was something you had to cast regularly, which implied Soh'fia purposefully cast it before meeting me. Though I vaguely remembered her saying something about her senses naturally getting better the more she used it? Who could say. It didn't matter.

I actually managed to get to Advanced right then and there, which surprised me more than him, really. Cursed had gone up incredibly slowly, even when training with Hilda. I got the impression that Natural was so non-combat focused that it was well suited for grinding, putting it at the exact opposite end of Restoration, which all but required the most intense of combat to really be improved (albeit indirectly).

From there he taught me Thorn Whip, Stone Skin, and Scrying. It seemed he mostly knew combat spells, in contrast to Soh'fia, who had been talking about landscapes and stuff. Scrying was an interesting spell in that you needed something belonging to them to scry them, with the larger the item the better the picture (due to latent soul energy spending time with an object gave). You also needed to have been in the presence of the person in question, such that you could get a lock on their soul. It seemed kind of like objectively worse Soul Spy since you couldn't just eat some of their hair and be done with i-... What the fuck is wrong with me? Hilda influence. Bleh.

It didn't look like I would get up to Proficient in one day, so I stood up and waved goodbye. He nodded back.

"By the way, uh... Do you want me to like..." I gestured at his chains. "Free you or something?"

He laughed. "Dak'muc is an as'ass, you know. She will track me down and kill me within a day if I ever leave. I have never met a more deadly and intimidating dark elf in my life, really. I gave up hope of escape after the first year of torture. I am just glad the muscle damage her knives inflicted recovered in full. Mostly." He lifted a leg and let it drop limply to the ground. "I advise that you do not get on her bad side. She is quick to anger and quicker to maim. A model dark elf, perhaps. They thrive due this violent, unforgiving bloodlust we other elves lack."

"Uh... Yeah. I'll be careful about that. Definitely do not want to get on her bad side. See you later, maybe tomorrow."

With that I left the room and locked it behind me. I climbed up the stairs and back to the bedroom from earlier to return the key to Dakka's pile of armor. Inside, I found that she had crawled to the other end of the bed, where she had her face resting in the pool of cum left behind from my orgasm. She was licking it up with a dumb look in her eyes while almost absent-mindedly fingering herself.

"Just returning the keys here. Don't mind me."

"Nnghuuuh..." she groaned back, lapping up more cum and intensifying her fingering at the sight of me.

I shot finger guns at her. "Later."

When I got outside of the tree, it was dark outside. It was hard to tell exactly how long I had been fucking Dakka and how long I had been grinding Natural levels, but cumulatively they totaled many hours. I began my journey back to the palace, a spring in my step. Tomorrow was going to be a good day. My obligation with Dakka was settled, and that was one less elf I had to deal with. I didn't need lessons with Soh'fia anymore, and I could slip in to see the tree elf once more after grinding my level up to get his Proficient-level spells. Hilda was getting blueballed until she could master the Soul Suck spell, which, given her despair, would take a fairly long time. Life was looking up. I could put this sex phase behind me and get back to raising my numbers. And soon, I would be leaving the elvish city entirely.

I had won. I had beaten the elves.

I just needed a bit more time before I could leave.