Leveling up, but not sleeping

Strictly speaking, a Pumpkin-Head doesn't really need to sleep, though there are times where your body goes dormant. That said, you're capable of doing so if you set your mind to it, and you can even dream in that state. You hoped that with all of the recent pleasant stimuli, this time around, you might have a dream that was a little bit better than the old ones, where you were surrounded by faces you knew and beaten to a pulp for spellbooks.

That life seemed so far away now. In just a few short days, you'd not only met and befriended adventurers-- your old foes-- but also, monsters so rare and powerful that you'd never considered catching a glimpse of them before. A werewolf! A vampire lord! You'd even met this game's equivalent of a god and perhaps murdered them, though you thought that **** probably wouldn't be any more permanent than the ones adventurers tended to experience. All-in-all, everything was coming up you.

You even had a nice bed to sleep in! Bathory might still be engrossed in her schemes to take control of your castle and cult, but for now, she was willing to let you have the best suite in the castle. It still needed some sprucing up and you were sure she'd get to that in time, but for now, it had a large bed, suitable for flopping down your pumpkin along with the huge mass of wriggling vines you called your new body. You were used to your head feeling like it was about to split open, but right now, it felt okay. On the other hand, your body felt like a big knot of aching joints. It was a good ache, the kind that a laborer might associate with a day of hard, productive work. Of course, yours mostly ached from wrestling a werewolf and fucking two high vampires, but hey, that was good work in its own way.

With the lights low and the growling of your new werewolf house-mate too far away to bother you, you began to drift into a surprisingly peaceful slumber...

... Only to be awakened by the sound of the door creaking open. That door's creak was going to have to be fixed too!

Unfortunately, you couldn't really afford to roll over and hope whoever was there went away. If it was Lupus again, the last thing you needed was to let him get the drop on you and throw you around like a chew-toy again. If it was Bathory here to challenge you to another sexual contest, then you were game for that challenge as well, even if you were a little achy.

To your surprise, three figures entered, one after another. They were all dressed in lengthy black capes, covering their entire bodies down to their feet, but you knew they must be friendly, because they were each wearing one of the pumpkin-shaped cosmetics on their heads. With the hoods drawn up and the pumpkins bobbing there, it looked almost as though they were fellow Pumpkin-Heads. The first sight that betrayed their true identity was the large swell at the chest of the right-most one... that had to be Evilward under that cloak.

Weren't all three of the gods "AFK," as they called it? That should put their bodies here into a dormant state, right? Maybe whatever Winnifred did caused their behavior to mess up again and now they thought they were supposed to stand around your bed at night? That wasn't going to make it easy to sleep. You'd be horny all night, even if they wore those big robes.

The robes wouldn't remain a problem for much longer, as the three approached in unison and shed their garments, allowing them to fall in a pool of black fabric at the foot of the bed. You liked the look underneath a lot better... Winnifred, Evilward, and even Pike were all dressed in nothing more than stickers in the design of pumpkin faces. Those things were a dime-a-dozen as far as Halloween cosmetics went, but they'd found ways to use them cosmetically, placing one over each nipple and between their legs. Even after the pumpkin bikinis, it was a little strange seeing your face look back at you from such a surface, but it was also hard to complain.

The ones on Evilward's chest bounced uncontrollably, making it hard to meet their eyes, as she approached you with a swagger in her walk. "Your cult has come to perform our nightly duties, Master," the ordinarily standoffish woman announced; with a sultry smile on her face, she allowed one finger to trail the appetizing, chocolate-colored curvature of her body, running from her breasts down to rest just above her shaven groin.

Nightly duties? Had you asked for something like that? I mean... you'd thought it, but you didn't think they'd buy into it, even if you'd demanded it!

Thankfully, your intelligence was your one best point and it didn't take long to put together what had brought them here: whatever Winnifred had shared between the three of them was causing them to behave in a new way. She'd said "anyone who uses it will become a devout cultist." Well, when she'd said it, she'd probably butchered the lines, since she had something like a speech impediment that you were still trying to figure out.

The Winnifred left here spoke very plainly, approaching on hands and knees across the bed. "Master... Allow me to prove myself as your most devout servant~" she cooed, already running her bare fingers across the increasingly rigid surface of one of your vines. That one wasn't one of those you thought of as your dick, but you were uniquely capable of making it a dick if that's what she wanted!

The one wild card here, you realized, was Pike. You'd only had a few encounters with her you'd consider something like sexual, and usually, she showed a level of reservation that the other two lacked. Specifically, she was the only one who'd avoided fucking you so far; the closest she'd come was jerking you off with her gloved hand, and that was all for science, you seemed to recall. Her body was smaller than the others, less burdened with womanly assets, but her roguish charm and friendly demeanor had taken you right from the start! It would be a lie to say you hadn't thought about wanting to give her a roll in the Halloween hay bails when the chance presented itself.

Now, even she was approaching around the side of your bed, wearing that same eager grin on her face and rubbing her undercarriage with two tan fingers. The sticker was already beginning to displace a bit with the moisture from her womanhood. A tuft of brown pubic hair peaked tantalizingly from the spot where the glued-on censorship had come off.

You wanted very badly to give her a little rope-burn with your tentacle between her legs and pull that sticker off in the process! However, another part-- an increasingly empathetic part-- argued against it. After all, this wasn't really Pike. She'd been holding back for a while now-- if she'd wanted to fuck you, she would have. If you filled her full of your amber honey-stuff now and she woke up sticky when her god returned, how would she react? In the best case, maybe she'd be just as happy as everyone else you'd pumped the goo into so far, but in the worst, you could burn a bridge with no hope of rebuilding it. With some hesitation, you shook your head, indicating that she needed to drop the vine she'd already grabbed up and begun to line up with her vaginal crevice.

The girl's freckled face turned somewhat dejected and her pointed-and-pierced wood elf ears drooped slightly, indicating disappointment. "Why, master? I only wish to serve..."

This was getting tricky. Did you need to juggle the feelings of both god-occupied Pike and unoccupied Pike at the same time? Winnifred finally seemed to have her god and her body on roughly the same page. Evilward... well, not quite, but Evilward had proved already that you'd do in a pinch. Pike, however, seemed so disassociated with this version of herself, you couldn't override the feelings of her god to service the cultist now.

However, using your pumpkin-headed ingenuity, you managed to come up with something that you thought might satisfy both of them. You cleared the closest thing you had to a throat, trying to ignore the feeling of Winnifred smacking her lips and tongue on one side of your hard, shiny head and Evilward whacking off your tentacles with two hands. "If you, as a cultist, truly wish to satisfy all of my carnal needs, then take heed! I am the kind of cult leader who enjoys being watched! Please, sit to one side and pleasure yourself as you please," you suggested. Pike couldn't be mad about something like that, right?

"I hear and obey, master," she complied, biting her lip and smiling as she swiped the sticker off of her groin with a quick pinch of her fingers, then did the same with the one covering her right nipple. In no time at all, she was going to town on herself. The feminine fingers on one hand explored the area between her legs, below that slight brown bush, while the other fondled her freckled, meager breast, pinching the exposed nub excitedly.

Later, you'd have a talk with Winnifred about the behavior of your followers, but for now, you deserved a treat, right? You'd worked hard today! Nothing wrong with everyone showing you the proper appreciation!

With enthusiasm matching that of your newly reprogrammed cultists, you wrapped one vine between the massive asscheeks of the Sheriff and began stroking it back and forth, with the tip playing at her clit beneath the sticker. One of the other tentacles found Winnifred's soft, pink lips and parted them open, giving her something much more tantalizing than a gourd to suck on, as honey-flavored goo began to ooze out of the tendril immediately. Both of the slick, green tendrils did their work expediently and fervently, rewarding you with the aroused moans of both of your two cultists. You knew what Winnifred and Evilward's moans sounded like at this point and, frankly, hearing them come out differently than usual was a little awkward. Winnifred was ordinarily somewhere between unbearably excited and trying to put on a face. Evilward was ordinarily spitting words like bile like she hated your guts, even when she was riding your equivalent of a cock. Right now, neither of them displayed any of that, simply submitting themselves to the pleasure granted to them by what was essentially a giant wad of writhing, honey-soaked dicks.

It wasn't so awkward that you couldn't give them what they wanted, though! Before you knew what was happening, you found yourself cumming gold-colored liquid out of various vines, soaking Evilward's round ass and Winnifred's pretty, blue-eyed face in turn, then shooting more onto not just their bodies, but also, a bit onto the bare knees and toes of Pike in the distance. Doing it with Bathory had been tough but rewarding, because she was pulling you to your limits, but doing it with these girls just felt comfortable by comparison. They were moving at your pace, allowing you to dictate the tempo-- no faster or slower than you wanted. When you wagged a tendril, they turned onto their bellies. When you slid a vine between their lips, they sucked it. The two girls just kept going, even as Evilward's dark skin was brightened with translucent honey and the priestess' straight, blond bangs dripped with goo. They really were the perfect cultists...

... As it turned out, there did seem to be one critical failing here. They weren't as communicative as one might hope. In fact, when after a handful of hours they still hadn't gotten the hint, you were **** to tell them directly that you were feeling tired and ready to get some proper dormancy in before the sun rose. It appeared that Winnifred had programmed being addicted to sex into these girls, because Pike just kept masturbating on her back while the other two found new and exciting positions to stroke and suck your tendrils. Evilward plopped her heavy buttocks onto your face and pulled a tendril in and out of her mouth, while Winnifred slapped her hips up and down on top of a still-rigid tendril she'd found roughly where a person's dick ought to be. You were trapped in an endless orgasm! There was no way you could get to sleep with Evilward sitting on your head, even if you managed to get your vines hard enough so that they stopped experiencing sensations.

"Help!" you cried out from inside your pumpkin, but the voice sounded muffled. Thankfully, you couldn't suffocate, but your dream of getting to rest for a moment before your big journey was starting to seem unattainable. Rope after rope of sticky, amber goo shot out, soaking your sheets and pillows along with the stunning, hard-working bodies of your cultists.

You snapped awake, finding yourself sprawled across the bed with your head awkwardly near the center and your vines in all directions. At some point, you had, amazingly, managed to fall asleep... or blacked out! Judging by your EXP logs, it seemed like you'd managed to reap a fair harvest from all of that, enough to bring you up one level to 12, but it did start to taper off with repeat interactions, as you'd expected. It also fully disappeared at the point you'd blacked out: seemingly about 4 hours in.

Evilward, Winnifred, and Pike were nowhere to be seen now. In fact, if you didn't have the goo matted all over your bedspread, you would suspect all of that really had been a dream. The little rest you'd gotten had you feeling a little less sore now, or perhaps it was the healing power of a good fuck? The only way to know would be to try it again in the future. For science.

You spotted one figure moving in your otherwise vacant room: the Trickster, now back in her ghostly form, collecting sheets and pillows that had fallen from the bed. You watched her out of the squinted corner of one triangular eye, as she lifted one cover up to her round nose... sniffed it... then licked it, showing a ghostly blue tongue for a moment. The surprised smile on her face seemed to prove that she liked the taste as much as the others had. Well, damn! If everyone had known you were full of something so much better than spellbooks, you could have avoided a lot of pain in the past, huh?

Finally, you cleared whatever passed for your throat, then rose up off the bed. You told her she could collect these sheets too, while she was at it.

"Eep!" the Trickster yelped, dropping the laundry suddenly with a blue blush spreading across her cheeks. "I-I-I didn't mean to offend, Sir! I was just cleaning up after your orgy!"

Orgy? Well... That was basically an orgy. Yes.

"Milord, if it pleases you... I know that I cannot touch, but... if you were perhaps to have another orgy... could I be permitted to watch?" she questioned, pressing her fingers together. Apparently, the shamelessness of the situation had her feeling a little bolder. "A-And taste?"

That sounded pretty good to you, but you reminded her: if you so much as shot a rope of honey at her, she was going to poof.

"... I could drink it from a bowl! Like a dog, milord!"

Woooah! That was some kinky stuff to hear at 8:00 AM in the morning. You congratulated her on her forward thinking, though, and told her that you'd try to arrange something like that whenever you returned to the castle. The beaming smile on her face made you a little sad you were going to have to leave her to tend the place with Bathory, but the road was no place for a fragile Trickster. Today, you needed to rally the troops, then, you were forest-bound!

Though, if all three of your cultists were in their right minds at 8:00 AM and in travel-ready state after four hours straight of fucking you last night, that would be its own kind of miracle.

((Sorry I haven't had as much time to write lately, but I wanted to wish everyone a Happy Halloween! Here's some fun images I drew of the gang, if you'd like to partake: [ https://twitter.com/TMeleebros/status/1454979479835660292 ] ))