Someone's Hobby 2
Having finished cleaning house outside the game, it looked like I was about to do the same inside it.
"Oh-ho, so this is that pilotable golem."
"The finishing work on the joints is superb. Whoever built this, I'd love to take them on as an assistant!"
A swarm of insufferable mages had come pouring in, draping themselves all over the still-unvanished giant snake boss monster and the pilotable golem.
Last time, I'd thoughtlessly opened a paid Q&A just to milk donations from my viewers — and the backlash had been brutal. These people who normally only ever typed "noona" and "mamang" while broadcasting nothing but their bizarre sexual appetites suddenly started spouting every scrap of specialist knowledge the moment a mage appeared on screen.
Not the usual five-thousand- or ten-thousand-won tips, either — fifty thousand, a hundred thousand at a time, all while dropping incomprehensible physics jargon. Whether any of it even counted as a real question was debatable, but one thing had been crystal clear.
From that day on, mages had come swarming like bees to a honey pot.
"Miss Hanna! Another remarkable discovery!"
"I didn't discover anything — my party did. Our priestess was the one who actually activated that unknown device, and Roland was the one who found the passage and held the monster off."
I was standing behind my party members, making it painfully obvious I had no interest in talking, and still they came right up and sprayed spit in my face. Whether a lifetime of nothing but research had left them completely tone-deaf to a woman's expression, or they simply didn't care and bulldozed ahead anyway, I couldn't tell.
The one silver lining was that Charlotte, having finished speaking with Roland, stepped in like a middleman. Compared to the mages who'd only just arrived on the thirtieth floor, Charlotte had already been waiting here — so even as a mid-rank mage, she could talk down to these old, seasoned ones without flinching.
The Knight-type Golem should go to the North—
This golem belongs in a research lab—
If the monster's corpse is still here, the gate—
Among the material warehouses, any empty ones—
Roland clearly had no more desire to deal with the mages than I did. He whispered a few words to Charlotte and her maid, then bolted back toward the rest of us.
That kind of tedious cleanup was nothing the viewers wanted to watch either. The stream had been off for a long time already, and the camera just floated meaninglessly above my head. Stream off, adventure on pause, everyone still riding the high of combat — the atmosphere naturally slid into a drinking party.
Maybe this was the real fun of a virtual-reality game.
A complex tangle of smells stabbed at my nose and burned itself into my brain. The sizzle of bubbling oil, well-cooked meat and the sauce ladled over it, the various stews and soups brought out piping hot alongside, the sharp bite of strong liquor, and even the faintly damp sweat of adventurers drifting over from the next table.
"All right! The thirtieth floor's problems are solved — to our adventure, blessed by the Goddess—!"
"To us!"
The usual after-party at the Lucky Bastard. Hot dishes hit the table, glasses clinked and foamed. In a real restaurant the mess would have drawn dirty looks, but here it was just a little bit of atmosphere to keep the mood going.
If this had been reality, I never would have been able to binge greasy food like this in the first place.
Fried chicken with hard liquor, a slab of steak dripping butter, chops marinated to the bone. From the perspective of someone who kept her figure with regular exercise and careful dieting, this was a meal that would demand a full week of nothing but chicken breast afterward. No — eating this much might actually shock a stomach used to clean, bland food into full revolt.
"Hanna! Our mage! Finding golems left and right, handling weird devices like it's nothing!"
"You were truly magnificent, Miss Hanna!"
Marveling at the quality of the VR game and silently thanking BB Games, I chewed my way through every dish on the table while my party members got thoroughly, spectacularly drunk. They'd implemented every other sense perfectly — so why leave out the ability to actually get drunk?
I felt a little warmth, sure, but compared to the others it was nothing more than a pleasant heat in my body. Grace was already hoisting her glass high and launching into toast after toast, Katie's cheeks flushed crimson as she started rhapsodizing about the Knight-type Golem — next to them, I might as well have been drinking water.
Right. Alcohol.
Grace, thoroughly plastered, had started draping herself all over Roland's arm. The born 6-star tank didn't seem to get drunk at all — Roland knocked back something that looked far stronger than beer without so much as a wobble, then calmly started helping her up.
"Irene, um, about Katie…"
"Yes, just like last time — I'll take her to the Temple and put her to bed. Oh, and since it's Miss Katie now instead of Mister Kayden, I suppose I'll need to change the guest lodging a little."
Roland rose first, supporting Grace.
Irene headed for the Temple with Katie leaning on her.
Who I was supposed to follow was decided for me without a word.
The little bed looked plainly too narrow for two people.
Normally he would have headed for his own comfortable lodgings, but today some whim had steered him toward Grace's room instead. In other words: the two of them had gone into the room right next to the one Roland had booked for me.
Of course, since I was peeping through the camera, it didn't really matter whether it was Roland's room or Grace's… but there was a psychological weight to it. Knowing that just beyond this thin wall — less than five meters away — the two people on my screen were locked in a heated embrace…
"Hehe, Rolaaand~"
"You're really drunk, Grace."
Whether it was the half-implemented intoxication or something else, my body had gone warm and flushed as I lay in bed watching the two of them on the screen. Their beautiful bodies, peeling outer clothes off each other with sticky, lingering touches, looked like they belonged on lingerie models.
A waist cinched more femininely than any woman's, swaying breasts, a full and generous rear — and crushing that feminine form with almost brutal force, a massive, heavily muscled body. The woman lying languidly on the narrow bed had nowhere to run and no will to escape; she simply let herself be pinned.
It was less a man and woman tangled together than a male pinning a female in place — an obscenely carnal sight. The same rough hands that had seized a twenty-meter giant snake like a length of rope now caressed those large breasts with astonishing gentleness.
"You're not telling me to wash up today?"
"Mm… you weren't going to listen anyway…"
"When did I ever? We just washed together, that's all."
Those light touches alone were enough to reshape her large, pale breasts again and again. Watching it, my own hand moved under the covers before I even noticed — toward my chest, which under a thin shirt had the exact same shape and feel as in reality.
Was this heat rising from deep in my body the half-finished intoxication, or was it Grace's face, melting soft and smiling?
She was an NPC, supposedly — and yet a person more human than most humans was panting on my screen. A man and woman more beautiful than anyone I'd ever seen while streaming were tangled together in sticky heat.
As I stared blankly at the display, both my hands had somehow found their way to my breasts and between my legs. Buried in the thick, soft bedding, curled up like a shrimp, I started moving my fingers without meaning to.
In time with the two people on the screen.
"Hnnnh— Roland, Rolaaand…. Honestly, I'm not a kid, every single daaay…"
"How is a man supposed to look at these pretty breasts and hold back?"
"There you go again, blaming me. You're the pervert heeere—"
The pink nipples standing stiff at the tips of those pure white breasts were so clean and lovely that even another woman had to admire them. Watching the usually composed, serious Roland bare his teeth like a beast and nibble and torment them was proof enough of how captivating they were.
Like a carnivore going for a herbivore's throat, those white teeth worked steadily into soft flesh — far too greedy and relentless to pass for a nursing child. Grateful that the streaming camera drone had an audio feed, I pressed my fingers harder in time with their breathing.
If teeth bit down on them… would it hurt more than this, feel harder…?
Every time the two figures on screen moved against each other, the pleasant warmth in my body flared into real heat. That muscled physique crushing a smooth, full female body without mercy. When the blond hair that had been at her chest slid down between Grace's legs, my fingers pushed deeper without my meaning to.
"How is it, Grace? Doesn't hurt, does it?"
"Hnnn, honestly… even calling you a beast… might be a little too kind…?"
Long white fingers clenched hard in his hair, and that solid body didn't so much as flinch. As if the grip were no obstacle at all, he pressed both cheeks against her thighs and pushed further in — and I moved the hand that had been on my chest to adjust the camera.
Those white thighs squeezed so tight his cheeks were crushed, and still he stretched his tongue out long like a true animal and lapped at her sex. The sheer lewdness of it — so completely opposite his usual self — made my head feel like it would cook from the heat just from watching.
Slurp, schlick—
With the camera pressed so close, the filthy wet sounds slammed into my ears like an ASMR stream. Clearer than any of Roland's mana-charged battle shouts, the noise seemed to violate my eardrums. When I moved my fingers the way his tongue was moving, my lower back shuddered as if it had slipped free of my control.
From the outer lips — no, from the bottom of a woman's pussy all the way up to that little bean at the top — a long, slow, sticky, relentless tongue. If that tongue, looking so much thicker than my fingers, were doing this to me… how many times better would this pleasure feel?
"Ro— Roland, waiiit… I, I'm really—"
"Pwah— It's fine. Let it all go."
Even thinking that, I didn't stop my fingers, and the tremor that had started in my lower back spread through my whole body. My spine crackled as if electricity were running up it. Forcing my fingers to keep moving, my vision flashed white.
As if Roland's words had been an order not to Grace, but to me.
Hhk— You're… going to keep going, right? …Don't tell me all night?
The shaking in my body gradually subsided. By the time my thighs felt sticky and unpleasant from the hot slick that had spilled out of me, Roland on the screen was stripping naked in front of the camera as if putting on a show.
A muscled body so defined a sculptor would have struggled to carve it so cleanly — and a cock so massive it could have passed for a secondary weapon. Even if someone made a women's toy that size, most people would probably hesitate to buy it out of sheer intimidation…
As I tormented the plump white mound of her pussy with my tongue, something floated up over Grace's slender waist. Of course — Han Se-ah's filming drone.
…Watching again?
I nearly locked eyes with the camera drone head-on, but luckily the angle meant that through the semi-transparent drone I could only see the undersides of Grace's breasts swelling upward. I gripped the thighs pleasantly squeezing my cheeks, then spoke to Grace as naturally as I could.
"How is it, Grace? Doesn't hurt, does it?"
"Hnnn, honestly… even calling you a beast… might be a little too kind…?"
After thoroughly working over her breasts, I'd kissed my way down her navel and come lower still to lick her. The main event hadn't even started, and already Grace — her brain gone soft and sticky from drink and pleasure — was needling me with a slurred tongue.
Fine. Watch if you want.
Han Se-ah wasn't crazy enough to sell a sex video of Grace and me for points on some shady file-sharing site. Even for an adult stream, no platform would let her broadcast actual sex out in the open — so in the end she was just filming for her own viewing pleasure, wasn't she?
Half out of spite, I licked up more aggressively, putting on more of a show. Ignoring the sticky honey soaking my lips, I raked my fingers again and again over that plump flesh the way you'd scratch a spine.
My usually leisurely pace turning suddenly fierce because of Han Se-ah — and the one who paid for it was, of course, Grace. Watching that slender belly flinch and roll again and again, I caught her thighs as she tried to squirm away and pinned them firmly in place.
"Ro— Roland, waiiit… I, I'm really—"
"Pwah— It's fine. Let it all go."
A female body melted by pleasure could thrash all day and never escape my grip. Her waist bucked, her strengthless legs went limp — and between the plump white folds that had been pressed shut, pink inner flesh slowly revealed itself.
Like a shell opening, the gap parted and hot slick poured out in a rush. I pressed a kiss to her thigh as she gasped haaahn—, then stood up.
For the camera that had frozen the moment Grace climaxed, I put on a show — yanking my pants down so the cock that matched this superhuman body could display its full presence. I laid that angry weapon with a heavy thud across Grace's lower belly, still twitching and spilling more slick like a broken faucet.
"I— I just need a secc… Roland?"
"Grace. I've told you before."
"What, what nooow—"
"When you do that, a man can't hold back."
"Ahh, hnnnh—! I, I didn't do anythiiing!"
Sorry, Grace. Looks like I really am a pervert and a beast.
Knowing Han Se-ah was watching us from the other side of that camera got me a little worked up. If I wanted to shift a little blame, maybe it was because so many of the noble ladies preferred to enjoy themselves in the well-tended outdoor gardens of the Cult's chairwoman.
The sudden thought of a beauty on Han Se-ah's level using me as dirty material for a furtive session of self-pleasure made the excitement almost impossible to control. At first it had bothered me — and now the arousal came first. It was a little frightening, wondering if this was how a person slid into a strange fetish.
"Hhk, hnn, you said just a secc— eh!"
I drove my hips up hard on the rush of excitement, and for all the protest in her mouth, her pussy clamped down on my cock. Those legs, made firm and strong from mountain training, locked around my waist and held me there.
Grace pressed herself tight against me, as if trying to ease even a little of the pleasure crashing over her like waves. But a woman clinging to a man who could pin a thrashing twenty-meter snake bare-handed was never going to stop me.
If anything, when I leaned down to kiss her and squeezed her breast firm, all she managed was a cute little hyeht? of breath.