Better than I do... it's my own fantasy (Pink Trigger's Power >299)

I thrust myself desperately between Gretel's thighs, grunting slightly as I did. I wanted to get a reaction from her... some kind of reaction! Amazingly, she was just clutching the sheets and watching me with a pitying expression. Why pity?! Don't you see this is what I wanted, Gretel? This is what my readers and I call a "win route." I've got you on your back, in a strangers bed, making love to you between those plump schoolgirl thighs of yours. When it's finished, I'll decide whether I want to cum into your panties or just release it all over your breasts!

So why are you giving me that pitying look?!

"Hey... You said this was an erotica, right? And this is your victory? Once this victory is achieved... you'll die, right?"

Yes, duh. I'll die. You've probably seen it happen a time or two on your way here. Someone will barge in and throw me out that window. A goat will pick me up and tear me in half. That witch will come in and stomp me on the dick with her high-heels so hard that I die. It could be anything.

"You sold your soul to the witch... just for a chance to have your way with women? There are ways to get laid that don't cost your mortal soul, you know..."

Of course I know that! Growing frustrated, I left the girl's thighs and tore open her uniform jacket. When I saw her white shirt underneath, I pulled that open too, ignoring the agitated frown on her face, then stuck my dick between her surprisingly massive breasts. My balls and shaft both rubbed against her desperately. Do you think I could get this in real life?! Do you think an eighteen year old nerd girl with huge boobs is going to let me titfuck her in real life?!

"It's not about that either... Your magic has embellished it a lot, but in the end, all you were doing was writing smut. My question is: why this island? Why these people? Why make the site of a gruesome unsolved **** your playground for this sort of thing?"

I bit back my rage as I slid up her body, now rubbing my balls against her chin as I stuck my cock into her protesting mouth. Her hands reached back to brace herself against the backboard... her talk was no match for the surprise of the taste of my penis and precum. I rubbed myself in there as hard as I could, hoping to release my load, when suddenly, two stakes shot up from the bedposts. They didn't kill me... they only pierced the wrist sleeves of my jacket and pinned me to the upper part of the bunk-bed. Ha ha ha... Now's the part where you kill me, huh, Gretel?

Gretel spat over the side of the bed into a wastebucket, then wiped her mouth with her shirt's sleeve, coming away with my precum and pubic hair as she moved it. "In a way... But rather than killing your spirit, I actually need to inherit it."

Ah... Hm? I don't understand at all any more.

"Player... If this story was really an erotica, you'd be running all over the island, letting out your semen, then going back the next day to do it again, and again, and again. Why do you always die?"

I die because... I'm dead? Not quite that... I die because the witch told me I had to. The witch told me that the price for playing this game is that I would die by midnight... Not just that, I'm not allowed to be loved either. Quite a predicament for a man of love such as myself.

Ange sat up in the bed, taking the time to rebutton her shirt as well as she could with its broken buttons and straighten her tie. "That witch is just another magic embellishment, isn't she? Why is it really necessary to die? I think I've finally figured it out..."

It's... I can't be happy in a scenario like this. That makes sense, right? These lovely people all died, their lives stolen from them, and God knows why. I'm taking advantage of them, again and again, while calling it 'love.' In that situation, why should I be allowed to be happy...?

"Exactly. If I may... allow me to use the Blue Truth. If you will, then I will lay out everything. Your spirit will finally be at rest and furthermore, I'll inherit your spirit, so that your story can continue to live on and grow. But know that in doing so, I'll destroy this ghost of yours completely... you can no longer be a character in this story. Or, you can retreat into those shadows you love so much... you can find Beatrice again, die, and continue to 'live' as a specter, enslaved to your own magic."