Worthy Core

 

Tizzy's week had gone from bad to worse. As she collapses onto the bed in her small, private room at the Lucky Bastard, she takes a moment to reflect on just how screwed they might all be.

Sevastion had always been a problem. Whether it was because of how his grandmother had taught him magic or something inherent in his personality, he had always been a little...off. Too intense, too unpredictable. His sister Yulia had been similar, but not quite to the same degree, and had helped make the man easier to deal with at the least. But after she'd died along the way, fallen in battle during their adventures, the man had only gotten worse. It wasn't just the fact that he continued to act as if he was still holding conversations with his dead sibling, but that he also wasn't talking with anyone else at the same time, meaning no one really knew what he was thinking or planning.

It had been annoying before, and now there was no telling how much damage he'd done. Having checked with the Rainlander soldiers who guarded the mountain trail, and other Challengers who'd been out that morning, it was obvious that the man had snuck into the dungeon. He had also not come out again, as far as anyone could tell. While Tizzy would have rated the man as being at about Expert-tier ability, and had been working on a cover identity based on that, his magic was much more along the lines of a supporter rather than a frontliner. Going into the dungeon alone? Honestly, the imp wasn't sure the man could beat BB alone, let alone Lollyp.

So assuming he'd gone into the dungeon and died, what did that mean for their mission? That's the worry that's currently eating the scout alive. He hadn't gone through the official process of being reincarnated into the dungeon, so as far as she was able to find out the dungeon should have only learned his skills and not his memories. Was that sufficient enough to break their cover? For now, Prince Thaddeus had put a hold on anyone doing any dungeon delves for a few days, just to wait and see if there was any sort of reaction from the dungeon, the Association, or anyone else.

Which means that Tizzy is currently sitting in her room with not much to do, and a lot of stress to manage. As she's sometimes prone to doing, the small woman begins to talk to herself. "Gahhh, they better not blame this on me. I was just answering questions, I'm not anyone's boss! This is Prince Thaddeus's problem, not mine!" Having said that, she rolls over on the mattress and chides herself. "Not that this is his fault, either. Sevastion was always a nut! It's not the prince's fault that half of his recruits are lunatics."

"...Not me though. I'm normal."

Nodding to herself, Tizzy rolls back over and faces the door to her room, which is securely closed and locked. The night stars are shining through her window, and it seems reasonably sure that no one would be coming by to bother her for the rest of the night. Most of the group weren't even staying at the inn, and the rest were still trying to make it less obvious that they were working together with Tizzy, just to help keep their cover identities separate.

"...Left the materials for making more mana-converters with Linda, and I'm kinda tired for making enchanted gear right now anyways." She looks over at a stack of books sitting on the nightstand, purchased from a local shop or the Association's supplier. "...Gone through all of those at least once or twice. Damn, shoulda picked up one of those romance novels while I was grabbing stuff. Guess I could...make my own romance for the night, though..."

Narrowing her eyes, Tizzy quickly hops up and pulls the blinds closed on the window before listening at the door to make sure no one might be in hearing range. Just to be sure, she quickly casts a silencing spell on both the door and window, just to ensure the soundproof nature of the room. Once that's done, the mystical scout faces the center of the room and casts an illusion. A very complex illusion. One of her favorites.

And one no one had ever, ever seen her cast.

As Tizzy looks up, Prince Thaddeus looks back down upon her, a beatific smile on his face. "Tizzy, there you are. You're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."

Tizzy smiles, but rather than respond she rubs her chin for a moment. "...Mmm, nah, used that one last time. And not really in the mood for it tonight anyhow. Try...Derogatory Mode." A wave of her hand casts a modification to the illusion, imparting her will and intentions onto it, and the false prince's face turns into a sneer.

"You little imp slut. You've fucked it up again, haven't you? Typical Barrelbottom behavior. I can always rely on you to be unreliable."

Listening to the illusion's insults, the half-imp closes her eyes and shudders before muttering to herself. "Fuck, why is this so hot? ...I'm normal. I'm the normal one."

"'Normal' is an aspiration for a failure like you. One almost thinks you want to be punished. And you know what the punishment is, don't you?" Tizzy nods without speaking, and the prince continues. "Then get to it, you half-size whore."

Licking her lips, Tizzy reaches out and begins to undo the man's pants. It's ironic, she thinks to herself, as she often does at this point. The ability to create an illusion with not only tactile sensation but the ability to provide some level of actual physical force would be considered the achievement of a lifetime for most of those in her line of work. Arcane barriers, sound generation, light manipulation, even mental manipulation, all woven together to form a nearly perfect replication of an actual person.

And she's never shown it off to anyone because she developed the technique in order to suck more dick.

In fact, her body moves on autopilot to such a degree that by the time Tizzy's mind stops wandering, self-critiquing her illusion work, she realizes that the prince's dick is already in her mouth. The taste...the taste is a little harder to replicate, she admits. For one, she's never had the opportunity to taste the actual Prince Thaddeus, and so she's had to base it entirely on a handful of experiences with other humans. For another, there's no way for her to physically reproduce taste, and so the effect is entirely within her own mind. That makes it...slippery in a way, like a dream, easily modified if she loses her concentration.

Considering that it's rather difficult to maintain concentration as the prince places a hand on her head and begins to guide her motions, and the fact that it'd never be accurate even in the best case, Tizzy had given up on realism. Instead, her eyes practically roll up in her head as she works her tongue along as much as the surface of the shaft as possible, because this dick is delicious.

"This really is what you're good at, isn't it? The only thing, really. That's the real reason I keep you around, Barrelbottom - you're the best cocksucker in the party."

Tizzy pops off of his tip, blushing as she asks him a question. "Better than Cogswell, prince?"

"You wish

you knew what Linda and I get up to when you're not around. But you should stop worrying about her and start focusing on me." The hand on her head pulls Tizzy forward once again, but this time the prince's cock slides its way up her face and it's his balls that land in her open mouth instead. She immediately gets to sucking on them, even as drool and other fluids begin to smear themselves across her face. Much of it's even real, considering it's her own saliva to begin with. The prince releases a sigh of pleasure, but it doesn't change his artificially generated mood.

"Gods, look at how you love it. Why did you even volunteer to be my scout? Wouldn't you rather serve as my concubine? Your only responsibility being to warm my bed every night? Or the mornings...or the afternoons." Tizzy doesn't respond, but one of her hands slips its way into her pants, which is answer enough for the illusion. "Or maybe it's not just me you'd like? Perhaps I should assign you to be the free-use toy of the entire party?"

"Ooooh fuck. One of these days I really need to get up to running more than one of these illusions at once."

The raven-haired prince frowns at her, as she'd pulled back for a moment to make the comment. "I didn't tell you to speak, slut. Perhaps I should work to make sure you're properly gagged, this time!" He punctuates his point by placing his cock back between her lips, and then pulling her head down upon it until her nose is buried in his crotch. She coughs and sputters at the sudden move, but it's not entirely unmanageable - she'd never be able to deepthroat the actual prince, she's pretty sure, but an illusionary cock is only as large as she needs it to be. In this case, it's now just large enough to fit comfortably snug within her throat, blocking her air but not causing her too much physical discomfort aside from that.

Of course, the difficulty level ramps up slightly when the prince grabs onto her head with both hands and begins to facefuck her fully. The phantom phallus slides easily in and out of her well-practiced mouth, but half of Tizzy's attention shifts from the rigid organ and instead to her own needs. Barely able to support her own weight as her legs lose their strength, Tizzy begins to go at her sopping cunt with both hands while the illusion holds her up. Her right rubs furiously at her clit while the fingers of her left quickly thrust in and out of out of her hole in an uncoordinated yet effective technique. What little conscious thought she has left considers that she probably should have made sure her pants were fully removed before she got started, because with the amount of wetness coming out of her right now she's pretty sure she's going to need some serious laundering done tomorrow.

That thought dies when the prince seems to reach his limit, and without warning the pulsating cock begins to deposit its load directly onto her tongue. Not down her throat, but rather into her mouth intentionally, as Tizzy had made a few...modifications. If the taste was entirely up to her and her mind, then why not improve on it? And so it is that the sticky fluid filling her cheeks now has the same taste as a sweet pastry icing Tizzy had once enjoyed.

If her illusions could provide actual nutritional value, Tizzy would suck this dick for every meal and twice for dessert.

She takes her time tasting it, running it across her tongue and slowly swallowing, before admiring yet another benefit of illusionary partners: they didn't grow soft. "What a cumslut. You enjoyed that, didn't you? Seems I need to punish you...further..."

"Oh no, don't do that! I'll do better, my lord!" Tizzy's words are belied by the manner in which she crawls onto her bed on her hands and knees while pulling off her pants, before pressing her shoulders down and wiggling her ass in the prince's direction. "Please don't ruin my tight little hole..."

Yet another benefit of illusionary partners: they didn't critique amateurish roleplay skills.

"Ruin it? Woman, you'll be lucky if you can walk tomorrow." The man steps up to the side of the bed, lining up his ever-ready dick with the cunt still drenched from Tizzy's earlier attentions. Despite her best efforts, the scout hadn't cum yet...but that lasts for approximately one and a half more seconds, as the moment Thaddeus plants his hands on her hips and pulls her back onto him, the imp finds herself shuddering in climax.

"Ahh! Oh fuck, my lord...you're too big for me...ah..."

"Too big? Nonsense. For a cock-hungry whore like you, your body is nothing more than a sextoy, is it not? I imagine I could find one of those local minotaurs and invite them to have a fun evening with you - or should we send you back to that realm with the centaurs? Would one of them finally sate your need for...hard. Pounding. Dicks?" The prince emphasizes each word with an extra-strength pull on her waist, and it's only Tizzy's control over her illusions that keeps her from being literally impaled by the impressively-sized human. That doesn't mean she doesn't feel his full length, however - with a little mental manipulation of her own mind, the mage is able to ensure that she feels every single inch of the crafted illusion sliding into her, even if that would be a good two or three inches more than her body can actually fit.

The pounding continues on for another fifteen minutes, time filled with quite a bit more slander and numerous accompanying orgasms, but eventually Tizzy can feel herself tiring out. It's not just the physical activity, which would be hard enough, but trying to maintain a complex and tangible illusion at the same time is also draining her mental energy and her mana. So eventually, she gasps out and gives the illusion his cue.

"Ah, just - just don't cum inside! It's not safe!"

"Your punishment is not yet complete! You'll always be a fuckup, Barrelbottom, so I think it's fitting that your punishment be a lifelong one! Prepare to be bred with my royal bastard!"

"Nooooo..." Tizzy rubs her clit with the last of her energy as the illusion throbs inside her, and a mixture of both real and imaginary fluids begin to spill down over her fingers. One final climax finally exhausts the woman and the illusion disappears in a sudden pop, leaving the still-shuddering bottom half of her body to collapse onto the bed. She lies there, gasping, her bed and fingers a mess, and before she passes out the scout has time for one last self-affirmation.

"I'm...I'm the normal one..."