Extreme Sex Quest 8

Obligatory explanation: A quest is a collaborative story of sorts, where I, the Game Master, write the story that you, the audience, decide on via voting on the prompts that I put through each post. Each post that, on its own, is the result of previous votes.

The votes this time are:

1 foot 2(3)=6

2 feet (7 votes)

Smash that pussy (All the votes)

Well, well, well. You guys have chosen…an extreme option. Well then.

[X] Two Feet Donger

[X] Smash That Pussy.

What did you know about Athena, really?

The first time you met her was when you showed up to Squire under your now-wife. Athena was smaller then, given her relative youth of 6 years of age, but she quickly attained her great size in just a few years. It was more than normal horses took, something you noticed even then, but Alastar horses were, well, different.

Stronger. Faster. Braver. Bold. More Intelligent.

All the things that made a horse ideal for a knight were something the Alastar family bred for. Everyone knew that. So, of course, there’d be a price to pay. And, as things went? A slower development was a fairly benign price.

She was emblematic of your experience, as a whole really, because your enchantment with her and your mentor would start to slip as she started to reveal more of herself and you…of you.

You hated your wife, but you were only wary of Athena. Because, as much as the former used her authority to molest you, Athena only used her seeming innocence to…molest you.

Hmmm.

As much as your former mentor forced herself on you, you only had to be wary of Athena lest she…forced herself on you.

The point is, Athena the mare was LESS successful at it!

But as she showed you her wet sticky pussy, already engorged with blood in a clear sign of Equine Heat, you couldn’t but wonder why you ever bothered.

Your cock fills with blood and, as good as you are at packaging it inside of your pants, you have no choice in the matter now. With a pained grunt you push your trousers down.

And let your two feet cock out.

The horse shutters in a very human way as your ridiculously oversized cock bobs up and down in the air, already bubbling pre-cum from its cock slit. It was, in your opinion, a gross tool of reproduction, far outsized for its purpose and absolutely mislocated on a futa, let alone a woman.

You would have loved to have a man instead of a wife, because if you didn’t it meant that your Mentor was right and that you WERE attracted to her, after all. Ironic, then, that you were now married to her. So what did it matter now?

Athena smelled like sex in a pot, the equine arousal hitting you in spots that you didn’t think possible. Her tail swashed back and forth, sending more and more of that scent towards you as it girated like a fan.

And you? You could not hold it. You could not stop it. Primitive as it was, animalistic as it turned out to be, Athena offered herself to you, seduced you, and you? You put your hands in her huge horse ass and put your nose near her pussy.

And then you took a long drag of her reproductive aroma.

“Oh GODESSES!” your testicles lurge and you shot a little but of pre-cum into the ground. She was ripe. She was ready.

She would, divines willing, bare you foals.

You put your feet on top of her calves and, such was Athena’s strength that she didn’t even budge as you climbed her rear. Your shaft pressed against her crotch tits as you came to a level with her ass, and pulled your hips back as much as you could.

Your glans, just like the rest of your cock, was vastly outsized as it slid up until it was covering Athena’s horsey lips. It was the sized of a child’s head, a spongey plunger that no one should have a reason to covet.

And you stabbed it into Athena’s equine pussy.

Athena whined in pleasure as the mass and muscles of her waist and back made her pussy be TIGHT. You had to fight to expand her depths as you slid your cock inside of her, and your own reproductive drive DEMANDING that you get to her inner-most parts.

Her pussy juices lubed your cock, and your spongy head scraped at her insides as your wide shaft unerringly sought out her uterus.

A normal horse’s dick, you knew from talking to breeders, was 20 inches long. You? You were 6 inches beyond that. A normal male horse would get pretty far.

You squished your glans against her cervix before you could slap Athena’s ass with your hips.

“Always trying to pull out my dick,” you growled as you drew back.

And battered on the equine door.

“Always trying to seduce me, even back then,” you accused Athena as your hands clenched her ass so hard that your knuckles went white, and tried to punch a hole into her reproductive chamber.

“Always t-t-trying to get me to fuck you!” you shout as you withdrew once more.

Only to violently clash against the entrance to her womb.

“Well, you win!” you yell, “So here!”

“Get,” you hiss through your teeth as you swing back for another thrust, “Pregnant!”

And then you thrust inside of her with all of your strength once more. Despite being a two ton beast, despite having a supremely durable and strong bod, despite literally being as healthy as a horse, her equine cervix met your glans one last time.

And lost.

The first time you fucked Alama, she broke her cervix herself and that took significantly more time then this. But you were so hopped up on sex pheromones, did you shattered through Athena’s in half the time.

“OH FUCK!” you moan as your glans invades her uterus and rubs against all of that soft pliable flesh.

“Eeeigh!” Athena whines loud enough to make your ears tingle, her knees shaking and froth coming out of the corner of her lips.

But she still managed to keep standing as you withdrew back, having to FIGHT to get your cock out of her greedy cervix.

Only to slam it in once again.

The final time.

Your testicles clenched so hard that it hurt, sending loads so huge into your prostate that you felt bloated. Your cock expanded under the deluge of human DNA making it’s way all through the mare’s womb.

Until they were deposited in the place that could use her equine ovum to make abominations before the Goddesses.

You smash into her ass and make it part for your hips, doing so again and again as you let her pussy milk your futa cream. Soon enough, the pressure from your loads awash back around your shaft. But the depth of Athena is so deep that it doesn’t make it back out into your lap.

You cum your brains out. You cum until your testicles are empty and you still try to cum. You orgasm all that you have and more into this HORSE, and, only after 5 minutes of constant cumming, do you finally climb out of Athena.

Pulling your cock out of her puss.

The horse sways from side to side as if she were drunk, your seed managing to seep out of her pussy and slide down her breasts.

“I-is that good?” you ask, breathing hard as you can’t quite believe what you just did, “Are you finally going to leave me alone?”

But Athena is looking at you with absolute lust.

She huffs, of course, and starts to unsteadily walk away, but its clear that she us humoring you now that she got what she wanted.

Now that she knows that she only needs to present her pussy to you to get bred.

By the time you brought water back, Athena was already in the building, napping on the old hay floor of the abandoned building. She didn’t even raise her head when you presented your wife with the bucket of water, but you could feel her eye following you all the same.

“How was it?” Alama asked as she took the water and started boiling it right away. She wasn’t bothered at all that you STUNK of her horse.

“...amazing,” you begrudgingly allowed, trying and failing to be bothered either.

Alama hummed, allowing you to save some dignity as you sat on the only bedroll that your wife had bothered to extend.

Given you were married, it went without saying that you would be sleeping together, after all.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” you, in the end ask her as she slips into the covers with you, “Sharing me with an animal?”

“The goddesses will forgive me,” Athena kissed your forehead.

“Sisters share things, after all.”

And with that, she goes to sleep, ignoring your questions and pleads to elaborate.

Your honeymoon, for the rest of the trip, isn’t with your wife…but her horse.

You fuck Athena when she is filling randy…or when you are. She digs into your crotch with her snout and you, well, let her suck you off. You enjoy her pussy and crotch tits when your libido gets too much, and Alama, despite how horny she herself is, seems to be fine with this.

There are things you don’t understand about this, about her and Athena, but she is maddeningly cryptic as you enter her lands and are faced with a choice:

How do you tackle the Centaur bandit problem?

[] Go to one of the affected villages. Perhaps you’d be able to gain information about Centaurs from their victims? (Peace Route)

[] Ride around where they are set to be until you come across them. Two knights alone might be a bait too juicy for a band of them to pass up. (Violent Route)

[] Write-in

Extreme Sex Quest 4

This is late by literal hours, but I hope you guys will forgive me. Next post will be up on the 15th of next month.

[X] Getting Married. You are not the eldest but you are a futa and so, male or not, the propositions have flooded in. You’ll have to deal with this one way or another. [X] The knight you were squired to, Lady Alma of Alastar. Your teacher, your trainer and, for one brief moment, your lover. That last part isn’t a good thing. (You are not part of her retinue anymore, yet she wants to hold on to whatever connection that she can.)

-and found your mentor, the “honorable” Lady Alma of Duchy of Alastar waiting for you there.

“What are YOU doing here?” your words were out of your mouth without preamble, without any of the respect that should have been there from your part. Something that should have been unthinkable, under normal circumstances, but she wasn’t your mistress anymore and you weren’t her squire. You weren’t her responsibility and she the one whose every word you had to follow.

You weren’t out in the world following in her footsteps, polishing her armor and her weapons. Taking care of her things, servicing her horse and….servicing her.

Your squireship ended under bad terms, but the thing hanging from your legs stopped it from being the end of your aspirations. You were going to be a knight. You WOULD be a knight.

So why was she here?

“Can’t I see how my cute Celly is doing?” the older woman asked, her hand being brought to her chin as her lips pouted. She surreptitiously pushed her chest out, making you notice that she wasn’t properly covering it. After all, you could see the top of her tits.

In all truth, Madam Alma wasn’t ugly. At 5 feet 8 inches, she was even rather tall, giving her extremely meaty thighs a lot of distance to display themselves. You knew from past experience how many scars those had, and how ample the muscle ran in them. Muscle that was slim but defined in her arms, making her shoulders stand out almost like pads. Her tits were twice as big as a clenched fist, which was impressive for someone who trained for combat every day. These, too, had scars going through them.

Her face round, her nose was a button and her lips were full and blossomed. Her eyes were as purple as her hair was, indicating the interspecies blood that her ancestress had rightfully claimed from one of the many vile races, and shined as she looked at her. You knew, too, that her drapes matched her curtains from bloody personal experience.

“That’s Celia to you,” you spat, “And your gallivanting in my home, resting your arse against my mother’s desk. I expect a serious answer, Madam Alma.”

Your ex-mentor sighed.

“You were so much cuter when you were younger,” she tapped against her chin.

“Yes, working under someone like you did my maturity wonders,” you reply, “The reason for not throwing you out, please.”

At that, the knight snorted.

“Your sister allowed this meeting,” she told you.

“Morrigan did WHAT?” you almost screamed out. Being the second-oldest daughter, you were, in many ways, a spare. One of about 8, now 4. Squiring you was a way to get you out of the running for the Harlocke fief, to give you the means to service the kingdom and still be productive. It appears that was not insurance enough for your eldest sister.

“She came to me personally and asked me to be here,” the older woman sighed as if she were doing a favor, “Didn’t even have to pull any strings for this.”

“Mother would never allow this,” you seethed.

And at that, she smiled.

“I am to conclude what we began and officially take your oaths,” Alama said with a pleased smile, “And, wouldn’t you know it, you have a sword at your side! How wonderful!”

“I should skewer you with it,” you hissed.

“Oh, but you already have,” she chuckled, making you consider heavily the consequences of becoming an outlaw by killing a woman who apparently had guest rights, “But let’s put the past behind us! With your oaths comes a new live, full of opportunity and relationships!”

“...get on with it then,” you, in the end, say from within clenched teeth as you pull out your sword and offer it hilt first.

“You always were so obedient,” she notes as she takes your sword, “But, hmm, I am supposed to give you a slap before this.”

“Do it then,” you raise up and offer your cheek, “But know that this will be the last time you touch me.”

“Oh, but that just wouldn’t be very fun, now, would it?” she chuckles, “How about we make this more exciting?”

“Either slap or cut me down, bitch,” you reply, “Otherwise, I will try to kill you, consequences or not.”

The threat, such as it was, didn’t produce the result that it should have. That it would have if you didn’t have a pair testicles and dick above your puss.

Alama immediately flushed, and her eyes became welcoming. She looked at you as if you had asked her to fuck, and her breath quickened to the point that she was almost drooling from her mouth.

It reminded you of some hot knights underneath a tent, with a finger in your mouth and a hole in your-

No, no.

You would not be turned from your purpose.

“Oh, but then you would just let me go to waste, wouldn’t you?” she rhetorically asked.

“I’d feed you to the dogs,” you assured her.

“We’ll work on that,” she promised.

“You’ll knight me or die!” you all but screamed. She laughed.

“What will you swear on?” she asked you, finally getting to the matter.

“My fief and my Lady mother,” you reply. It was traditional to swear yourself outside your family to avoid loyalty problems, but Harlock county was big enough that your mother could shunt you off to a far off corner if need be. Meh, it wasn’t like you planned on staying here. No, you would be out there, doing as a knight did and Questing!

“Ooooh, there is a problem with that,” Alama said and you almost jumped her then and there, “Here, a missive from the Lady.”

You all but snatched the note from her hand and rushed through the whole thing.

“This is insane,” you say outloud.

“It’s what I was told to give to you,” Alama shrugged.

“Morrigan must be behind this,” You groused.

“I would never dare to cast aspersions upon the Harlocke heir,” Alama aired herself.

Because here, in the note that you were given, hidden behind courtly language, was a clear ultimatum.

Your first Quest, if you were to Swear yourself to your mother, was to seek a spouse and begotten a line of your own.

“I-I-I haven’t even talked to mother about this!” you groan.

“Well, Cely, if you like I can help you out with that,” your ex-mentor puts a finger on her bosom and runs it down her tits, making your eyes track her finger, “I am quite single as you well know and, well, we are already acquainted.”

“Never,” you say, “Never!”

“Really? But I would let you do whatever you wanted and go wherever you pleased,” she chuckled, “You know I know people. I know what’s coming. You don’t HAVE to start out from nothing. You could be at the head of your own retinue, leading the charge into your enemies.”

“All you would have to do is fulfill your husbandly duties to me,” she said, her eyes smoldering again, “From the start to my ending.”

You simply glared at her.

“Think about it,” she told you, “Hmm, otherwise?”

“Otherwise…” she hummed, “Otherwise, well, I suppose you could swear yourself to me.”

“Isn’t that the same bloody thing!” you yell.

“Your knightly duties wouldn’t extend to my bed,” she promised, though you didn’t believe her, “And I AM my mother’s heiress. Why, the old girl is just dying to meet you!”

That sends shivers down your spine.

“I could swear on honor and the Queen,” you swallow in your throat. It was the oath that knights that had no prospects made. The ones that only had their sword arm, their horse and their armor to their name. It was the oath of knights that had nothing else.

Not that they couldn’t sweat to someone else to later, but you clearly would not have your family’s backing unless you made acquiring a family your first goal either way.

“You could,” Alama allowed, “But, hmm, call me soft-hearted, because I think I might be able to convince your mother and, hah!, your sister that you don’t need convincing to fulfill your familial duties after all.”

“What would you have me do?” you growl.

“Three favors,” she raised a hand with her index and thumb fingers curled, “Three favors from you and that will be all.”

“Oh, then you can just ask me to swear myself to you, marry you and still have something I can’t say ‘no’ to afterward!” you rolled your eyes.

“I’ll tell you what I want, and you can pick which three favors you want to do,” she tried to mollify you, “But if you are so worried about it, agreeing to either marry or swear yourself to me will be off the table.”

“...and what are the favors then?” you ask.

“Nu-ha-ah,” she waves a finger, “Agree to them first, and I will list them for you.”

“So what will it be?”

[] Swear on your mother and fiefdom. (Your first Quest will be to find a wife…or extremely less likely a husband.) [] Swear on your mother and fiefdom AND marry Alama. You hate this bitch, but if she is willing to let you do whatever you want…(First Companion get and it’s your wife! But you’ll only be able to select Quests that allow you to fulfill your marital duties.) [] Swear yourself to Alama. So long as you don’t have to touch her again, it’ll be fine…right? (Go straight to choosing quests. Limited to the Quests Alama wants to give you.) [] Swear on the Queendom and Queen. (You literally start out with nothing…but you can do whatever you want.) [] Agree on doing Alama three favors. (You will have the backing that you need, and you get to select the Quests that you want, but you will have to do Alama three favors along the way, no matter what.) []...go and complain to Mother. If the missive is legitimate, you will NOT be able to change her mind and might get on her bad side besides. But perhaps there IS something you can do.

Extreme Sex Quest 3

So, this is how things were:

Peasant 1(1)+1(3)=4

Middle Class 1(1)+1(3)=4

Noble 1(1)+1(3)=4

Priestess 1(3)=3

Elves 1(3)=3

Centaurs 1(3)+2(3)=9

Minotauress 1(1)+2(3)=7

Bearwomen 1(1)+1(3)=4

Wolfwomen 1(1)+1(2)+3(3)=12

Pantherwomen 1(3)=3

Owlwomen 1(1)+1(3)=4

Sharkwomen 1(3)=3

Believe it or not, the voting info is sometimes slightly different then the visible poll and these are the results. I am not sure why, but I can make the Excel file available to anyone who wants to count themselves.

But yes, Peasant, middle class and Noble all tied. Rather then make an extra poll as a tie breaker, I used a random number generator and Noble won. So, these are the winners:

[X] Noble

[X] Centaur

[X] Minotauress

[X] Wolfwomen

So here we are. The following marks the end of the Character Gen and the start of the Quest proper.

Extreme Sex Quest Characer Gen 3 end/Quest start.

[X] Noble [X] Centaur [X] Minotauress [X] Wolfwomen

That’s right. You were, are, a noble. A brazen daughter of Queens. A drop of blood in the pure well of those born to lead, born to fight, born to conquer, those who stand against the path of womenkind.

You rule the land, going out and rescuing fair gentlemen from the grasp of dragons. You are take back the night, raiding and taking the men from other races as your rightful spoil. You make mak sure that your sword-arm is strong and that your lance is accurate. You make the interloper keep to his business and keep the adventurers from getting ideas about the proper way of things.

You are a Knight.

…for the most part.

As a futanari, confusion abounds in what to make of you exactly. Any man is a treasure, but those born to the nobility all but ensure that the noblewoman who born him had her House lauded and Risen above the rest. You? You merely had everyone tripping over their feet to make you their Squire.

It is a great source of annoyance to your Countess mother, who thinks by alright everyone should be falling over their heads to so much as get a glimpse of you, but that’s fine with you; you are by no means valuable just because you have cock and balls.

You can do things! You can fight! You can kill! You can…maybe even kidnap an elven boy somewhere somewhen and bring him back as your spoils of war? It would certainly get the church off your back.

Because, oh boy, do they like coming over to shit on it. Well, that, or lick it.

Your penis makes their fanatical devotion weird.

But all true noble daughters of the Forestan Kingdom are as burdened as they are privileged. It is in this pillar upon which the legitimacy of most Knightly houses stand and your Barony is no different. You are no different.

Except…your own responsibilities are slightly different.

Chief among them is:

[] Bearing the next heir. As the eldest, you’ll be Baroness someday. But, despite having a dick, you have to carry a daughter of your own to term in your belly. Somehow.

[] Getting Married. You are not the eldest but you are a futa and so, male or not, the propositions have flooded in. You’ll have to deal with this one way or another.

But that’s for the future. For now, you can concentrate on the big issues of the day.

Like the fact that your barony is beset from all sides by goddessdamned Beastwomen!

Oh, the Centaurs like to claim a divine origin. Because they had to be heretics on top of being abominable animals. They accuse divine Nephele of having lain with a wild Stallion and of having brought the disgusting results to term in the dark and away from prying eyes not ready to welcome “the bearers of the new cups”. As if accusations of bestiality would be enough to sway the heart of your goddess. As if any woman would debase herself so!

…even if there are, indeed, tales of peasant women doing just that when they grew desperate enough for a man.

The Minotauress claim is, arguably, even worse, with tales of goddesses commanding men to lay with Cows on the fields or the wilds. As if any such event was commanded not by their goddess, but by some evil spirits of some kind! Were there any truth to it, it would all be a lie conducted by the vile tongue of those evil goddesses at war with womenkind’s. Though, the minotauress don’t claim any divine blood on their own, they still claim a divine origin.

The Wolfwomen though? They don’t pretend to be anything except what they are. Dispoilers, thieves and rapacious fucks who take the shape of women but keep the heart of a beast. They don’t make claims about their place in the world. They don’t make suppositions about their goddesses. They don’t try to make excuses about stealing the glory of Womenkind. They don’t make excuses for being inferior barely sapient animals.

But they are there, all the same.

You are not at war. No, war is something that happens between proper races, like those between the daughters and the spawn of the divine.

This? This is merely an infestation you have to deal with.

You are not a squire anymore. You are, as you have already established, a knight. A strong woman with armor and weapons. Horses and stables. Blue of blood and red of steel.

But you have yet to properly make your oaths.

Today, you are called to your Lady-Mother’s office, at the top of the Dread Tower of Castle Harlock.

Today, you are called to set out on your duties as an adult of noble birth.

Today, you find, waiting for you, at the top of Mother’s place of power:

[] Your mother, Countess Asea. Widowe of Harlock. Ambitious Milf. (If Eldest daughter, she will want to keep you in the castle as the Heiress. If not the Eldest, it will be about your marriage prospects.)

[] The knight you were squired to, Lady Alma of Alastar. Your teacher, your trainer and, for one brief moment, your lover. That last part isn’t a good thing. (You are not part of her retinue anymore, yet she wants to hold on to whatever connection that she can.)

[] The Bishop of the whole Noche County. She can’t do anything to you. The church holds little power over you. But, oh, the proposition she has for you…(She promises you the sun and all she asks in return is a little escorting.)

[] …what is Beastwoman doing in mother’s office? No, no, wait, this is a MALE. D-did mother manage to kidnap one? (He has nothing to give and you have nothing to get. Yet he asks for things all the same.)

Extreme Sex Quest 2

Haha, fuck you Covid!

I am feeling better now, thank you guys, and I am here with the second part of this. So what won?

Male 4(1)= 4

Futanari 4(1)+3(1)= 7

Healing is Common 2(1)=1

Healing is Uncommon due to church 1(1)+3(1)=4

Healing is Rare 3(1)=3

1.) Traditional Fare 2(1)+1(3)=5

2.) Furry Fare 1(3)=3

1 and 2(1)+1(3)=5

All numbered options above 4(1)=4

And so here are the winners:

[X] Futanari

[X] Healing Uncommon, reason Church.

[X] 1 and 2

Technically, 1 and 2 tied with Traditional Fare but there is enough interest in furry stuff for me to declare the combination of furry and traditional to be the winner anyway.

Now, as an artifact from Vore Quest, I am going to have your character be a human. A Caucasian futa human, to be exact, as that fits the Fantasy themes without giving me too many problems with the Furry ones. But as for everything else?

Extreme Quest Character Gen 2

beta by Vex

[X] Futanari

[X] Healing Uncommon, reason Church.

[X] 1 and 2

And so, you are burdened with both the capability and, some would say, duty of both male and female genders.

Though, perhaps, some would call it a blessing?

The Church certainly doesn’t. But that is perhaps because they are not wont to talk much about it. And why would they? Futanari are more rare than MEN are. And, at a population discrepancy of 100-200 women to a single man, men are rare as it is.

There are plenty of women who have been born, lived and died of old age without so much as knowing the blessed touch of a man. There are women, poor and forsaken who have turned their fortunes around simply due to the unlikely but incredible luck of bearing a son. But then, the Church calls events such as these miracles.

But what do they call you? Nothing.

They do not speak of you. They do not talk of you. Yet, here you are all the same. The world doesn’t unconditionally worship you like it would as if you were a man, but it cannot help but adore you all the same for having the capabilities of one. It does not know where to place you, so, perhaps, it’ll place you in a deep underground hole so that it doesn’t have to decide?

The church is certainly capable of that.

There is no unified faith across all species, but the goddesses are the goddesses and the goddesses are to be pacified. They contend among themselves and the mortals, showing, in turn, favor or displeasure. Ruination or salvation. In return, they demand one thing from everyone. And the price they demand is Cult.

Your worship for their pleasure.

And what does that pleasure get you? The ability to endure the world. Wounds that would not naturally heal, events that would result in maimings and, yes, even the grave are not all necessary endings. The power to heal, through servants of the gods, run strong across all the species of the world. Magic might not be an entirely theological endeavor, but even wizards who heal pay heed to the church.

Or else.

There are always weirdos in the sticks, in the wilds or in the slums of the cities offering services on the down low for prices or favors obscene. But they are out of the Church’s hands and, perhaps, that is worth the costs. But then, YOU don’t have a reason to hate the church, do you?

Not when you are:

[] A peasant, reared and brought up on the articles of the church. (Church knows about your futanari nature. Will have influence over you and will try to steer you in their direction every now and then but it will be amicable. Flexible intro.)

[] From the middle class, taught and educated by Priestess. (Church doesn’t know about you and so doesn’t have much influence or reason to care about you as anything but another woman. Discovery of your futa goodness will probably never be in your terms. Freest of all intros with the biggest pitfalls.)

[] A noble, blessed just by virtue of being born and so beyond redoubt whatever your genitals might be. But also? Burdened with expectation. (Church knows about your futa dick and can’t do jack squat about it. But you will have Noble duties and expectations to tie you down at any point in time. Intro with the least pitfalls but also with the least flexibility.)

EDIT: [] A Priestess, one for whom the Church is mother and father. (Church knows about your futa dick but it's going to use that fact to further it's interests. Very little flexibility but, perhaps, there is ultimate freedom in that?)

[] Write in, though I’ll be the one to determine the effects of the write-in. Check with me if you want to talk about it.

No one, however, is an island to themselves. Not even humanity, with its many races and variants. The goddesses of humanity aren’t the only ones around, after all.

There exist other species other than your own. Created, or misbegotten, by other deities that may or may not have womankind’s best interest in mind. Usually, the answer is “no”. But there are deities that more than one race claims as their own and worship in their own obviously wrong ways.

There are even races that try to “steal” and “seduce” your own dieties away with gross displays of brinkwomanship and loud efforts of showomanship. And it wouldn’t be so bad when it was just the Dwarves and the Elves doing it, but also goblins, orcs and even ogresses have been known to get in on it. The enemies of womankind, knowing that they can’t face against the sheer weight of human tits, attempt to steal your power from above.

They have all failed of course, Shena and Rhea were never really human goddess anyway, but more disturbing than that are, of course, the Beastwomen.

Original Races, such as the first-born Elves, the right-born Dwarves or the Inheritor Humans have nothing to worry about the Evil-Borne Orcs, the Infestation of Goblins and the Obscene Ogress. And all the other spawn of evil goddesses. You all have multiple wars behind you to prove it. You all have multiple horrors and inflected tragedies on each of these to prove it. You have, in a word, endured.

But there are newcomers.

Animals of the wild are not any more prevalent to being blessed with the male gender then anyone else is. Yet, for the ecosystem to survive, they have to produce enough to get by. Or, at least, that’s what you all thought.

Did it never seem weird to your ancestors how women caught by wolves, bears or tigers would always render a devoured corpse yet a man, upon being disappeared by the tragedies of the forest, the desert or jungle would never turn up a single scrap? It’s not just the sapient who craves men. Animals do too. But you all mistook the fact that they never kidnapped males from other species as them not engaging in the male taking of sapient species.

When the males they sought could never be found in other animal species.

But you all should have. No goddess doesn’t bless their worshipper with the ability to lay and reproduce with any men they are lucky enough to have. Not even evil ones. But animals don’t have gods.

They shouldn’t have been able to make anything of it.

Yet they have.

The Beastwomen. The progeny of multiple generations of men caught out in the wild and bred, bred and bred for multiple generations. With daughters, grandaughters and decendants again and again until they have stolen the glory of womenkind.

Godless they were once called. But that is maybe not so true anymore. There are whispers, in the far rung parts of the realms that some of your goddess have betrayed you. There are silenced proclamations in far flung churches that humanity have failed the goddess and so they have blessed Newcomers. That emergent Kingdoms from the animal world will rise and takeover as Inheritors from Womankind.

But these heretics are rightfully burnt at the stake. And the whispers are nothing but that, rumors.

You would know, your little slice of humanity is surrounded by:

(Select up to three)

[] Elves

[] Orcs

[] Dwarves

[] gnomes

[] goblins

[] ogresses

[] minotauress (Qualify as both Fantasy and Beastwomen.)

[] centaurs (Qualify as both Fantasy and Beastwomen.)

[] Wolfwomen

[] Bearwomen

[] Owlwomen

[] Pantherwomen

[] Sharkwomen

[] Alligatorwomen

[] Hawkwomen

[] Halflings

[] write-in (Seriously, suggest something on the comments and I'll put it on the poll.)

EDIT 1: Added Sharkwomen and Alligatorwomen.

EDIT: Added Hawkwomen and Halflings.

Extreme Sex Quest 2

Beta by Vex.

First of all, my cards on the table: I spend the week with my family and so could not work on an actual story for today. But the quest I told you guys about? I could work on that, so I did. Next week, I'll make a sequel to one of my stories and do the same thing in the lead up to the winner of my next Web serial. But I will update at least once a month and will likely update it again this month. Will give you guys an exact date and schedule for it once everything has been decided.

That said, here is what I promised you:

What is a Quest?

The short answer is that is a text RPG. A communal and collective text RPG. Unlike a normal role playing game, people don’t role many characters that they individually control because this is not an individual’s game. There is only ONE character and many people will determine said character’s actions through the democratic process.

That is to say, you will vote on what they do.

As the person running the game, the traditional game master, I will detail the actions that immediately come to mind. And I will give people the chance to make their own plans and put them in the poll for said actions when they do so.

The hardest part of an RPG like this is getting your head around the mechanics of the game as these determine what you can and can’t do. But in this game? Your companion ARE your resources. In every sense of the word.

Because, you see, you are the protagonist. The nature of your birth marked you apart from everyone else and so people, society and even the world revolve around you. But not you specifically, just around the sort of person you are. And the sort of person that you’ll someday be.

The world is willing to let you go forth and do what you want but it is not willing to let YOU pay the price of your follies. Most of your suffering will be second, all just so your ambition may prosper.

Allow me to set the scene.

It’s a world of calamity. A world of triumph. A world of tragedy, successes, love and partings.

That is to say, a world of adventure.

It’s a world of fantasy, where many different species live that can nonetheless cross the interspecies gap through breeding without actually being of the same species.

It’s a world of Reverse Sexuality, when it’s the woman, and not the man, who seeks their sexual partner and cultivates their affection, or coerces them, into marriage or sex. Because what not be gotten through love, can be gotten through violence.

So it is, too, a world of violence, where many different peoples fight and kill each other for what rare resources exist among them. Men being the most important among these.

It’s a world of magic. The impossible is possible through knowledge of strange physics that only makes sense through intuition and not analysis. It is powered by ambient energy, or by an individual’s own soul, that can’t be felt or analyzed by the unworthy. And yet, it must still be studied.

It’s a world of stagnation. Technological advancement can’t cross the gap that magic makes and so, past a certain degree, it simply doesn’t advance no matter how much time passes. That is not to say that society is unchanging, but it dances among lines, moores and FETISHES that it refuses to let go off.

It’s a world of depravity. Magic and a conditional disregard for others make some fetishes that would be unthinkable in other societies be the norm, if not the preferred choice. Because when death is not necessarily the end, and what is dreadful is appreciated like a fine wine and the horrific is something that is there to be savored.

But not as perpetrator though. No, the world longs to be a victim. The world longs to have things inflicted upon them. But for that, it needs those who would do it. Those who stand out above the others. Those who are born with no choice but to indulge it.

There are those like you.

Now, there are things that can’t be justified by these societies and invite questions. Very uncomfortable questions. But this, too, is a chance for depravity and so, ultimately, they not only exist but thrive.

Men are to be pampered. Men are to be served. Men are to be treasured and protected from all things. Women are there to seek them out. Women are there to love them. Women are there to serve them. Women are there to be spent by them.

But what of those who straddle both grounds? Futanaris, who simultaneously have both breeding faculties? Confusion abounds and, ultimately, it is up to them how they are treated.

So what are you?

[] Male.

[] Futanari There is no female option.

And finally, the world is flexible. The world is what it is but it doesn’t have to be what you can’t stomach. It exists for you to sample it, after all.

So how permanent are its sacrifices?

[] Healing is rare, and resurrection is only saved for the richest or most powerful women in the land.

[] Healing is uncommon and the church demands a hefty tithe for its resurrections, but it’s there.

[] Healing is common and the only death that really sticks is that of fairly rare dangers or circumstances. Like Dragon fire. Fuck those spiteful bitches.

[] Free health care for everyone! Only old age or sickness stands in anyone’s way of getting back to full health straight from the grave.

Luckily, people with male reproductive systems are very rare, or this world would overpopulate in a second.

But speaking of, what is it populated by? Aside from the old human race, you see.

[] Traditional fantasy fare. (Orcs, elves, goblins, dragons, etc.)

[] Furry fare. (Animal anthros, intelligent animals, taurus of all types, etc.)

[] The Occult. (Demons, ghosts, oni and other mythological figures from real life.)

[] 1 and 2

[] 1 and 3

[] 2 and 3

[] All the races above.

EDIT: Option added courtesy of Lemonbarb

[] Healing is uncommon, but only because religious authorities keep it uncommon.

Question about making a Vore Quest.

I know what you guys like. By and far, futanari is my MOST requested kink or theme. Followed by breeding stuff like pregnancy and impregnation. Altough Incest might just have beaten out.

And then there is NTR. All of which, yeah, I am DEFINITELy a fan with you guys of all of this kinks.

But I want to do some vore.

You see, a year ago, I was running this online paper RPG called a Quest featuring it. So I suppose I'll have to explain what that is. Essentially, I make a "Choose your own story" style story, but one where everyone votes on the actions of a single character. Not a single character for each one of the voters, all voters SHARE a single character. A GameMaster can use systems for this and keep track of a bunch of things, but for the purposes of making a fetish game, it would be purely narrative in nature.

Anyway, this was the game: https://aryion.com/g4/view/780440

In it, you guys would play a male character in a world of reverse sexual logic, where it was THE women who sexually chased guys, constantly wanted sex from them. Point in fact, in this one, Men were considered a valuable asset so high that women would willingly die for them, as the population demographics would be something ridiculous like a single men being born for every 100 women.

But you want to be an adventurer, even then. Well, society is willing to let you do that...but it is not willing to let you pay the price of making mistakes. Hence, you WILL have companions, whether you like it or not. And not only are they willing to die for you, they sort of want to.

Because just about every single woman you meet, will want you to devour them. All at once. Or piece by piece. It's orgastic to them.. It's HOLY to them.

And doing so provides you with benefits, as that';s the only way you, as a man can level up.

But magic exists in this world, so you could heal your partners even as you take pieces out of them.

And, hey, this way? There is NO such thing as having a cast that is too big.

They are all on the menu, and so them dissapearing is THE point.

Now, I don't have to resume the quest that I started, but I sort of wanted to make a once a month updating quest like that.

And yes, it COULD feature a Futanari MC too. ;)

So I want to gauge your guy's interest in that.