---Tuun’s perspective---
I make my way through the ruined temple, doing my best to avoid getting transfixed by the light and colour of my torch flame.
I feel the weight of my lootbags and try not to get too excited by the amount of money I’ll have once I get back to a town and sell off the valuable items I’ve acquired here!
I still need my wits about me for the moment!
I’m instantly proven right as I round a corner and see a pack of five goblins.
I drop my lootbags and switch my torch to my right hand, drawing my crossbow with my left and loosing a bolt which catches the biggest, nastiest looking one in the head.
The other four are immediately aggroed and begin charging at me.
I cock my crossbow with the edge of my torch hand and loose a second bolt, felling another.
Before they reach me, I drop the crossbow and draw a long, needle thin rapier.
I slash across the chest of the first to arrive, causing a shriek of pain from him!
I redirect the tip into the chest of the second.
Sliding between his ribs, it punctures his lung. He gurgles and quickly falls down.
The wounded one and the final one fly at me in a volley of ferocious knife attacks, all of which I manage to dodge or parry.
I see an opening and slash across the throat of the uninjured one.
He falls and, now able to concentrate entirely on the wounded one, I make short work of him!
Panting, I pull out a cloth and clean the blood from my blade before sheathing it.
These guys would have been a problem for me when my level was lower!
I pick up my crossbow and holster it back at my hip before picking up my sacks of loot.
“Sorry, boys…” I shrug to the bodies of the goblins “…had other things planned today beside being turned into your breeding slave(!)”
I walk on and soon find myself at a great opening overlooking a bright, green, grassy steppe.
The world looks so amazing in colour! I wish I could see like this all the time… definitely miss having four hands though!
I extinguish my torch and stow it in my inventory.
Taking hold of the long rope I climbed in on in my left hand and my bags in the other, I effortlessly abseil down from the masoned overhang, through free space, to the ground, 20m or so below.
I touchdown with a graceful knee bend and immediately begin swinging the rope to try and dislodge the grapple.
It comes down and I manage to catch it before it hits the ground.
I turn to pick up the lootbags… and only then do I see him.
There, half my height again and looking the best part of a tonne in mass… stands a man!
From the waist up, his broad, deep, mostly bare, light skinned, muscular chest looking as if it was sculpted from marble!
His crossed arms look powerful enough to snap iron!
Two long, fluffy ears protrude from the sides of a red and black, plumed Corinthian helm, out of which peer two stern, disapproving, emerald eyes.
A portion of a thick, red beard is visible through the gap in his visor
From the waist down, however, he takes the form of a powerfully built warhorse, with a coat the same colour as the beard, ears and helmet plume…
The only clothing he wears besides the helmet is a strap across his chest, keeping a thick pauldron in place at his shoulder, and a padded skirt around where his two halves join.
Across his withers is sheathed a gigantic sword, its blade inches thick and well over a metre long! That thing looks like it weighs substantially more than I do!
At his left hip is coiled a cruel looking whip!
I put on a friendly smile and open my mouth.
---Victor’s perspective---
The black haired Human puts on a fake smile and says “Good Sir Centaur!… What an unexpected pleasure… I was just…”
“Trespassing…!” I spit, my avatar's voice much deeper than my own “…on my people’s ancestral lands, stealing…!” I gesture to her bags and then up at the dungeon she just exited “…from one of the sacred places under our stewardship and, little doubt, MURDERING whatever poor waifs happened to be taking shelter in there and you deemed to be an…” I snarl “…inconvenience to you!”
“Now, Sir Centaur, I’m sure you’re a reasonable… individual… I’m certain we two can come to an understanding! You see, I’m Daphne Silvercreste… the daughter of the Archd…”
“I care not one whit for your family name, nor whatever arrogant little Human nobles were your dam and sire, girl!” I boom, disdainfully “They should have done a better job in teaching you the consequences of your actions… because, now, teaching you that lesson has fallen to me!”
I advance on her, my hooves clopping against the stones.
Lightning fast, her rapier is in her hand and pointed at me.
“Stay back, beast!” she says, all pretence of amiability gone.
“Ah, not ‘Sir Centaur’ anymore, am I? How quickly you forget your respects when treating with the nonpliable(!)” I say, not breaking stride.
“I’m warning you!” she says, backing against the wall.
I get to the edge of her guard and reach out to pinch the tip of her sword.
“What do you think to do with this, girl? Are you intending to threaten me with an acupuncture session(?)” I sneer before pulling her toward me by the blade and bending to put the front of my helmet a mere hand’s breadth from her face “Here is my offer… relinquish the sword, relinquish the crossbow, relinquish to me whatever relics you stole from this sacred place as well as everything else you have… and I will spare you your life. Do not… and… well…” I place a hand on the hilt of my buster sword, pointedly.
The stunningly gorgeous Human girl flicks her grey eyes from mine to my sword hilt and back a few times before she answers “Alright… I give up… I surrender… take everything I have… all of it!” letting go of the rapier, which swings from where my hand holds its tip, acting more annoyed than anything else.
She pulls her crossbow from its holster and hands it to me along with a quiver full of quarrels.
“The scabbard…” I say, gesturing to her hip. She rolls her eyes and unfixes it before handing it over.
“The bags…” I say, pointing to her satchels of loot.
“You can’t get those yourself?” she sneers “They’re just on the ground! You could just reach down and take them!”
“And receive a Human dagger to the neck the moment I took my eyes off of you… I would deserve as much for being so fool as to trust a Human…!”
She sighs, bends down, picks up her bags and thrusts them at me with a demeanour that says ‘There! You happy now!’
I take her bags and deposit everything she’s given me into my inventory.
Then I withdraw a length of rope… and snatch her wrist!
“Wait! That wasn’t the deal!” she protests, attempting to yank her hand away “You said if I gave you all my stuff you’d let me go!”
“Spoiled little princesses ought to pay more attention to the deals they make!” I say in answer “I promised to spare your life, and so I am… I never promised to let you go!” I catch her other wrist and begin winding the rope around both of them “You, on the other hand, agreed to relinquish to me ‘everything you have’… by my reckoning, that includes your youth, your beauty, your body… and that life I’m sparing… you’ll be spending the rest of it atoning for your greed, girl!”
---Tuun’s perspective---
“You won’t get away with this!” I shout at the beast leading me behind him by my bound hands “When my father finds out what’s been done to me it will mean war! You think you can just take me to a town and sell me at some slave market!? Whoever buys me I can promise them ten times whatever they pay you for me to take me back home, untouched!… I was well within my rights to raid that temple! The Edicts of Valanara give salvage rights to finders of all artefacts in structures abandoned longer than 300 years! That temple’s got to be millennia old! You know, the last time there was a civilisation here!” I gesture around at the barren wastes.
I wait for a response from the Centaur with deepness and sonorous volume to his voice, only possible by having his entire (Human) chest cavity dedicated to lungs and diaphragm.
No response comes.
“Centaurs are supposed to be a friendly race! Sure, not civilised but not the kind of barbarians who run around kidnapping poor, defenceless damsels! Brutes like you will give your whole species a bad name! You really think that robbing, kidnapping and enslaving me is justice!? Don’t make me laugh! You’re nothing more than a bandit! You’ll get what’s coming to you!”
No sound returns, save the thudding of his hooves on the grass.
Running forward a few steps to give myself some slack in the line, I bend to pick up a stone and, with both arms, hurl it at his back, screaming “SAY something, damn it!!!”
He darts his upper body to one side, dodging the rock, somehow having ascertained a) that I threw a rock at him and b) where he needed his body not to be, to avoid getting hit by it, in spite of the fact that his senses should be blinkered by his helmet!
I suppose, he might have heard it, with his long, fluffy ears out like that?
He turns to glare back at me and yanks the rope to pull me forward. I hit the ground and the wind is knocked out of me.
He booms “Justice is not ‘banditry’ simply because you do not agree with it, Human! You know nothing of my people and it shows! the Edicts of Valanara do not apply to that temple because they require the structure to be on unclaimed, wild land! There is civilisation on this steppe, NOW, even if you do not recognise it! I would welcome the chance to ride down whatever Human army might attempt to come to your rescue. As would my brethren! Finally, I have no intention of selling you to anyone! Now, get up… and hold your peace, lest I decide you need to be gagged!” before turning back around.
Sullenly, I stand back up and start walking.
He wants me to ‘hold my peace’? Fine! I’ll be niiiiice and quiet! Almost like I’m not here at all(!)
I spend the next few minutes saying nothing and walking closely enough behind him that the rope trails on the ground from the slack.
Surreptitiously, I bring my fingers to the knot between my wrists and begin working it loose.
---Victor’s perspective---
Something’s… not… right…
I turn around to see that what I’m leading along, at some point, became nothing more than a length of rope!
I cast around and see a speck, off in the distance, moving fast away from me.
“Son of a…!” I curse, rear up on my hindlegs to swivel my massive body in that direction and gallop that way!
By comparison to how fast my four hooved legs eat up the distance on this grassy steppe, the girl barely seems to be moving!
She looks around, hearing my approach, but there’s nothing to be done save to keep running.
I pull alongside her, to her right, and, with a mixture of irritation and impressed amusement, say “Greetings, princess(!) Where exactly do you think you’re going? By my count, you’ve still got an entire lifetime you owe me!”
Then, I yank back the pommel of my giant sword, at my right hip, causing the scabbard to swing forward over my left, whacking her in the back of the head in a way that definitely would have concussed her in real life!
She falls forward, arse over tit, and comes to rest in the grass, groaning.
I turn and walk to stand over her.
“You are cunning, princess… for that I commend you! Even if all you’ve actually succeeded in doing is receiving a head injury and proving to me that you need to be bound more thoroughly(!)”
I bend down and, withdrawing several more coils of rope from my inventory, begin the work of tying her legs to one another.
Rolling her over, I bind her arms behind her and tie them tight, feeling a tiny pang of disappointment as I reflexively reach for a second set of arms that isn’t there!
I fish in one of her pouches and find a cloth, covered in orange blood… I briefly consider using it to gag her… but decide that’s just a step too far! I find another (clean) cloth which I wad into a ball then pull out a length of silk scarf from another pouch.
I roll her back over and bring the wad to her mouth.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Wait… no… stop… don’t gag me…please that’s-mmmnmhmff…” she protests, weakly as I shove the cloth between her lips, stuffing it down to utterly fill her mouth.
I hold it there with my thumb as I say “Just be glad I’m kind enough not to use the rag slick with the blood of your victims, Human! You’ve proven to me that you can be trusted neither to keep quiet nor when you are quiet!” and draw the scarf between her lips, cleave gagging her, then around her head again in an over the mouth gag.
“Just one more finishing touch…” I say, tearing her shirt open to expose her period accurate bra analogue, some lengths of cloth wrapped around her in such a way as to push up her stunning breasts!
“There… a pretty sight now that you can’t run, can’t talk and have your chest exposed for any passers by to see(!)” I say, lifting her onto my back, just behind my buster sword.
---Tuun’s perspective---
“Mmmph! Mmm nnng nrrvm vumnh hmmmnuh! Hnnguh nnnghn bhgmuh! Ummvm mh mmmhgm!” I burble senselessly, continuously and indignantly through my gag, having recovered from the virtual head injury and being rightly outraged by being slung over the Centaur’s back with my shirt ripped open and carried like cargo while we canter down the road…!
“MMMPHH!” I shriek as I receive a harsh smack to my shapely Human arse.
“What part of being gagged made you think I was interested in continuing to hear your noise, girl?!”
Not wanting another spank (yet) I keep quiet as we approach an ominous looking craggy mountain at the edge of the steppe.
My platform becomes somewhat diagonal as the Centaur begins climbing a narrow path up the mountain.
I don’t get much of a view, facing the wall, but, then again, it might be for the best not to discover I’m acrophobic while tied up on someone’s back, being carried up a mountain and forced to look out over what may be a drop of hundreds of metres(!)
We eventually reach a relatively large, flat area, surrounded on almost all sides by sheer, craggy rock walls.
On the far side of the area is a cavemouth.
The Centaur says “Welcome to where you’ll be living for the rest of your life!” and pushes me off of his back, to land with a hard *thud* on the solid stone ground.
I look up at him as he fiddles with a menu for a few moments.
A cruel, evil looking, hinged collar (exactly the diameter of my avatar’s neck) and a matching bracelet (exactly the diameter of the Centaur’s wrist) appear in his hands.
They’re made of jet black metal (though absent the subtle, wavy, rippling, Damascus pattern that would give them away as durasteel) and each set with a glowing red jewel.
“You know what these are?” asks the deep voiced Centaur, leaning over me and holding up the items.
“Nnh-nnnn…” I lie, shaking my head.
Of course I know what they are… but my character doesn’t…
“This…” he holds up the collar “…is an enthrallment collar… whoever is wearing this becomes enthralled to whoever is wearing this!” he holds up the bracelet “I’m going to put this on you and, once I do, you’ll be mine… FOREVER! You’ll atone for the lives you’ve taken by giving life back! The Centaur race that you disdain as ‘uncivilised brutes’ will see its continuation through your loins! You will be the broodmare to my foals… the mother to my children!”
I act horrified and start attempting to caterpillar-crawl away from him but he catches one of his shibari knotts between my legs and drags me back by it.
“I am going to untie you and ungag you, after I put this on you, and, when I do, you are not to run, you are not to scream, you are not to speak unless spoken to and you are to do everything I say (and nothing I don’t) exactly when and how I say to do it, understood?!”
I shake my head, vigorously from side to side.
In answer, he gives a single puff through his nose and says “You know… the great thing about this is… you don’t need to understand! It’ll work, aaaaall the same!” then he places the evil devices around my neck and his wrist, making me (temporarily at least) entirely subject to his will!
There’s still one more step necessary to make this as permanent as he suggested it was but, right now, my avatar is entirely incapable of disobedience or removing the thing that’s making me so!
He ungags me, no longer needing three layers of gag to keep me quiet.
He unties me, no longer needing six lengths of rope to keep me from running.
He stands, looking down on me and commands “Up!”
My avatar stands up without waiting to give me any input.
“Undress…” commands the beast who’s just made himself my Master.
My body, again, does not wait for a yea or nay from me before it shrugs off my destroyed shirt, unbuckles my stylish adventuring boots, pushes off my fancy breeches, removes my boob bindings and slides off my panties and hosiery.
I might be imagining it but the dour Centaur looks almost like he’s smirking down at me through his helmet, for a moment!
“Come!” he says, beckoning me to him.
My feet move on their own and I find myself staring at his muscular midriff.
He bends his front legs to bring our faces level and commands “Take off my pauldron…”
My hands reach out to grasp the strap that is his only chestwear and lift it, along with the heavy armour piece, over his head, tossing it behind myself to land on the pile of my clothes.
“Take off my sword…” he instructs and my hands go to his padded kilt, unfastening it and allowing the monstrous sword to hit the ground at his side, pulling the cloth off with it.
“Take off my helmet…”
I reach to lift up the sturdy helm, off his head, exposing a face I know very well…
I’ve never seen him with quite this much beard in the real world… He doesn’t have ears that long, hair that long, eyebrows that bushy or a face quite that hard there, either. Nonetheless… there’s no mistaking who I’m looking at!
The beautiful man leans his face toward mine, his gorgeous green eyes transfixed… before he remembers himself.
He clears his throat, points to my right and says “You, first, need to be punished for what you’ve done… go and stand between those rock pillars, pull your hair over your shoulder, spread your legs and grasp the rope handles…”
---Victor’s perspective---
She walks off in the direction I pointed and I give a gasping exhale (as soon as I don’t think she’ll hear).
That was close… that was too fucking close!
This is meant to be ‘The Enslavement of the Bratty Rich-Bitch to the Cruel Centaur’! What it is decidedly not meant to be is ‘The True Love Connection of the Lovely Noble-Girl and the Centaur Whose Heart Grew Three Sizes’(!)
Save the mushy-mushy for aftercare, Victor! Chrissake!
You can kiss and cuddle and moon and make goo-goo eyes, later!
Can’t get soft on her just because she looks like a doe-eyed, real life, goth Barbiedoll!
Right! I am an unyielding bastard with an indecipherable, yet unwavering, moral compass! Assault-happy goblins are ‘poor waifs’, Humans are monstrous destroyers, exploiters and desecraters, trespassing and archaeology(/graverobbing) are crimes worthy of a sentence of permanent sexual slavery (without trial) but enslaving someone is A-OK!
In three… two… one…
I pick my whip up off my belt and stand.
I turn to see her, exactly where I told her to be, standing with her gorgeous curtain of long, black hair tucked over her right shoulder, leaving her pristine, creamy white back (which I’m about to make very unpristine) entirely exposed to me, her legs spread wide, her arms reaching up to grasp the rope handles I made for her, above her head,
Unspooling the whip, I give it a test and hear the *swoosh* then loud *CRACK* as the tip is accelerated past the sound barrier (at least, that’s what would be making that sound, in the real world… In here, it could just be a sound effect. No reason for them to have gone out of their way to model accurate acoustic physics if a sound effect was easier…)
She winces at the noise.
I approach, letting her hear every hoof clop as I do and, periodically, dry cracking my whip.
I get to a whip length plus an arm length’s distance from her.
“Thrall…” I say, not even calling her ‘girl’ or ‘Human’ anymore, let alone ‘princess’ “…you are permitted to scream. Do you understand?”
“I understand…” answers the girl, instantly.
“When you address me, you are to do so as ‘Master’, do you understand?”
“I understand, Master.” she responds, quivering slightly.
“Good…” I say, pulling back the whip and slashing it viciously forward without warning.
She screams as a red streak mars the beautiful skin of her back.
“You are nothing but a filthy, little thief, aren’t you thrall!?”
She says nothing.
“ANSWER your Master when he asks you a question, thrall!” I snarl, bringing the whip down on her again.
She screams and says “Yes… Master! Your thrall is nothing but a filthy, little thief, Sir… and a who-o-o-o-ore!” the part she added being interrupted by whimpering from being struck again.
“Good! You are permitted to cry!” I say, followed by her immediately bursting into tears as I crack her again, asking “Humans are the lowest and most despicable of all the races, aren’t they, thrall?”
She hesitates but, unable not to answer a question I’ve asked (now that I’ve given it as an ongoing command) answers with her own question “M-must… I-I-I… an-answer… honestly… M-Master?”
I smirk “NO! You must tell me that Humans are the lowest and most despicable of all the races, thrall!”
“H-Humans… ar-r-re the…. l-lowest and most… d-despicable of all the… r-races, M-Master!”
“Good giiiiirl! I permit you to beg me to stop!”
“Please s-stop, Mas-ster! It’s s-so painf-YAAAH!” she shrieks as yet another red streak mars her back.
“You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you thrall!? This is exciting for you!” I demand with (partly) affected mania.
“Y-your th-thrall is v-v-v-very excited, Mast-ter! Sh-She’s enj-j-joying herself v-very much!” she answers, honestly.
“Is she looking forward to a lifetime of servitude?” *CRACK* To never again having free will?” *Swooosh**CRACK* “To becoming a broodmare, sex-pet, SLAVE to an insatiable, Centaur BRUTE?!” *KA-CRACK* “Does she look forward to seeing her belly swell with his seed?” *CRACK* “Does she think it’s a fitting punishment for her crimes?!”
Clearly really struggling now, my thrall answers “…T’sss…m-m-m-more….l-like a r…r-r-reward!”
I cease my whipping, smirk at her back and say “A REWARD, you say?! My, MY!!! A thief and a degenerate!!! What a lucky catch! Well, if you truly are that eager, I see no need for further delay! Come! Let us seal the pact!”
She releases the ropes and turns to stumble, limply, toward me.
She collapses into my arms and I squeeze her tenderly (breaking character, slightly) and whisper “You did amazing, baby! Just a bit further!” into her ear (breaking character, slightly more).
I scoop her up and carry her to a convenient rock with a flat (conveniently Centaur dick height) top.
I place her, face down, with her legs dangling over the edge, her entrancing bottom raised at the right angle of her body, the tops of her thighs framing two, wet pussy lips.
I lift my front left hoof to her left side and my right to her right.
I walk my body forward until I feel something soft and wet against the tip of my long, hard, horse cock.
I tip my upper body forward and place my palms on the rock.
Looking down to see the gorgeous, black haired woman sandwiched between the hard stone and my undercarriage I see her grey eyes are crossed.
I give her a smile… and then plunge inside her!
---Tuun’s perspective---
Ho…ly… FUCK…ing… Þóóóóóóóóóóóóóóórr!
My mind is going to break!
This is blessed euphoria!
My back is rawer than its ever been from the whipping I never would have been able to stand up to, in real life!
A pair of horse legs are pinning mine to the wall, a horse trunk is pinning me to the table and a huge horse cock is in the process of rearranging my guts! All this while I get to enjoy the view of the powerful, muscular arms ahead of me and, just beyond, the manliest, bearded face in existence looking as ecstatically blissful as mine feels (though, I’m probably actually pulling a full on ahegao, right now!)
The bearded man bites his lip and grunts. I feel his thick member pulsate.
I scream as he brings me to orgasm!
As I lie there, groaning in post orgasmic bliss beneath my lover, two notifications pop up. One in front of my face (struggling to find space between Victor’s underside and the table top) and a (presumably identical one) the same distance from his face.
{IT LOOKS LIKE YOU ARE ATTEMPTING TO ENTHRAL THE CHARACTER Daphne Silvercreste TO THE
CHARACTER Gaeth Dustmarch. DO YOU WISH TO PROCEED?}
{YES} {NO}
{WARNING: THIS STEP IS IRREVERSIBLE!}
Victor presses something on his but my vision is too blurry to make out what.
Limply, I bring my finger to the {YES} button before completely collapsing.
---Victor’s perspective---
“Everythin’ you’d hoped?” I say to the beautiful woman using my chest as a seatback as I stroke my hands over the newly appeared thralldom sigil on her naked belly, just over her womb, and we sit by the fire in my cave.
“Yes… it was amazing! But please use your normal voice!” she giggles.
“You don’t like Gaeth Dustmarch’s dulcet tones(!?)” I tease “You don’t think his deep voice is sexier than Victor’s high, nasal one(!?)”
“Extremely sexy, Victor (like being Dommed by a horny Centaur version of Christopher Judge’s Kratos) but… for the sake of my virtual eardrums!”
“Alright, I’ll stop…” I grin.
“Thank you…” she says before adding “…your voice isn’t high or nasal Victor… it’s very lovely!”
“I’ve heard what I sound like on tape! I sound like a kid from a 20th century Stateser media work, set in a ‘high school’, who’s ’bout to get his lunch money nicked then his head stuck down a water toilet while he goes…” I hold my nose for maximum effect “…‘Oh, ngo! Ngmy nnglaaaasses!”
“That’s truly just your imagination, Victor! You don’t sound like that. At. ALL! Everyone hates the way their voice sounds on tape!”
“Bet ya preferred playin’ with me while my voice was deep and booming, though!” I say, wryly.
She inhales, choosing her next words carefully before responding “I won’t lie, Victor… your Centaur voice is extreeeeemely sexy but…!”
“Knew it!” I laugh.
“…buuuuuuuut…!” she insists “…if I were given the choice between that voice and yours, for every time I have sex ever again, I would choose yours… instantly!”
“Awww… babes! That’s so sweet……… how you’re willin’ to settle like that(!)” I tease.
She scoffs and gives up on trying to convince me of the sexiness of my voice.
There’s a long moment of silence before she asks “What about me…?”
“What about you?” I ask, genuinely unsure what she means!
“How was having me as a Human?… Did you prefer it?”
I chuckle and, pulling on her long black hair to force her to look upward, I bend down to give her a Spiderman kiss before answering “Ain’t gonna lie… your Human form IS sssssssssssssMOKin’ hot…buuuuuuuut…if I was given the choice between this face and your real one, for every time I have sex ever again… I would choose yours… instantly!… Nothin’ beats the real thing!”
She beams up at me and we return to our lazy cuddling for a while before another topic of conversation comes up.
“Now that I think about it… aren’t these things like… super dangerous to have in the game?” I ask, bringing a finger to her slave collar and holding up my control bracelet.
“How do you figure?” asks Tuun.
“Well… like, imagin’ you’re a bad actor…? You see another pretty player that catches your eye… rather ’an goin’ up an’ talkin’ to ’em, tryin’ to strike up an acquaintanceship that’ll turn into a friendship that’ll turn into a romance that’ll turn into a sexual relationship (or even just goin’ up to ’em an’ tryin’ your luck with skippin’ straight to sexytimes)… or maybe you try an’ they ain’t receptive… what’s to stop you just… gettin’ a set of these and followin’ ’em ’round for a bit? Wait till their alone, pop out, clamp one of these ’round ’em and, hey presto! Instant, unwillin’, in game, sex slave!”
“The victim in that scenario could log out before anything happened, spawn back in a different part of the map and then report the perpetrator. The collar wouldn’t stay with them through the logout, preenthrallment… Logs would be checked and the perpetrator would almost certainly serve mandatory, real world, prison rehabilitation for trying something like that!”
“OK… but what if… I dunno… what if someone hacked it to stop ’em loggin’ out?”
She scoffs at that “If a person were that good at hacking, it would be easier for them to hack the game directly than to fiddle around with in game kink play items! I did my research before we started playing! It’s a solid, well built game with a responsible developer! Stop torturing yourself with hypotheticals… this is just like when you asked if there was any possibility of someone impersonating another player, arranging a CNC and directing the Dom(me) to attack the one they were impersonating! Not gonna happen! Too many safeguards! Too good a game!”
“Yeah… you’re right… I’ve just heard too many horror stories!… It is a great game!… Should thank Kas for recommendin’ it to us! You wanna play with her and her party next time we’re in comrange?”
“That sounds nice…” she says, idly, before a thought seems to occur to her “…Hey! You don’t think they use this game the way we use this game… do you?”
“Don’t worry about it… when we play with ’em, we'll turn these invisible..." I gesture to the collar and bracelet "…They ain’t gonna ask ’bout how we use this game… and we ain’t gone ask how they use it!” I smile.
“So you do think they use it to have sex?” she asks, seeming almost alarmed(!)
“What, you mean… do I think the adult woman and her adult future husband and wife who’ve been livin’ in sin for years already and’re currently separated physically by half a galaxy’s width… might, potentially, be usin’ this game (that’s got kink compatibility as onna its core sellin’ points) to have freaky (not possible in the real world) sex with eachother, to ameliorate the crushin’ weighta their separation…(?!)… Naaaaah(!) Bet nonna ’em ever even had sex(!) Bet they don’t even know what sex is(!) ‘‘Sex’ you say? Is that some sort of fish dish?’(!!!)”
She laughs “Alright, arsehole(!) Why don’t you go and hack the game to find out(!)”
“Oooooh(!) Human Tuun is sassy!” I retort, mirthfully.
“Daaaaamn right!” *snap**snap**snap* she says, snapping her five fingered hand in front of her.
“Alright, sassypants! Few more hours o’ cuddlin’, then we gotta log out cause I gotta feed Fluffy in a few IRL minutes or she’s gonna start gnawin’ on our bodies… and both of us gotta feed ourselves!”
She pouts but doesn’t complain otherwise as she says “Alright… fun while it lasted!”
“You know what you want?”
She leans her head against my chest and says “Pancakes… Do you even need to ask?”