One Precious Night

Precious

Gabe fucking dammit.

Why is life like this?

lol what a question.

I’m not talking about heaven or hell or whatever we’re doing here. Just life. You work so hard to make up for your fuck up. You try to be clever, make these plans, be useful, and in a flash you get fucked.

Litterally.

Gabe’s goons, his servants were wrapping me up for him. Dressing me in these divine silks, with these ridiculous proportions.

I’m telling you this halfling must have a spine of steel, cause I hadn’t been in a bra my whole time here. These freakish melons bolted onto my chest just defied gravity all on their own.

Let’s face it, I got fucked.

This is my monologue so I can bitch a little right?

I’m three feet tall, and almost as wide. I’m disgusting. Just a platform for heaving tits and jiggling ass. Sometimes I’m tempted to describe my body as childlike, but it’s not, and it’s not womanly either, it’s grotesque.

The Roman’s didn’t do any of this shit.

There’s no appreciation of the human body with this piece of art. No careful sculpted curves, or curls, or sharp points. It’s just pure frat boy TnA.

At least I’m not green. At least least I remember who I am.

Others have it worse, no doubt.

But that doesn’t mean I didn’t get fucked too.

And strangest of all, despite all of that, Gabe chose me over the only one of us who didn’t get fucked, to get fucked!

I’m serious! Have you seen Lana? She’s a goddess! Those beautiful tan feet! Gah I probably would have been thinking of her and Gabe all night!

Bleh, if it wasn’t her and GABE!

What can I say? I’m just not into the guy, and the reasons are myriad.

Too bad.

The Christmas goose has been dressed and Gabe expects to stuff me.

So it goes.

This is much of human history, or at least my understanding of it. Powerful men dragging powerless women into beds, and no one sheds a tear. Except for the woman.

Not that I’m crying.

Not me, I’m a tough bitch.

I walk out, head held high, servants, cheering waving swooning. They all say I’m sooooo lucky.

He’s handsome sure, but they never saw him soullessly watching our games, mind half on us half on oblivion.

Gabe was a man with no lust for life, just for the girls under his power I guess.

Thus me, thus now, thus all of human history.

I used to date whoever I wanted, you know. A lot of women were beaten, starved and jailed so I could do that, so i did it a lot.

I’m not a jealous person. Which opens up so many wonderful possibilities. There were times I was almost in a harem! This is easier for me, I think. In some ways.

But is it easy for anyone?

I don’t think so.

And not him either.

He greets me at the dining table, dressed to impress in a black t-shirt and jeans. No servants bothered dressing him up for me, and I should drag him through the mud for bringing that raggedy ass on a date with me.

But I’m scared.

“H-hey. Llllong time no see.” I mumble, twisting my fingers and looking at anything but him.

“You look good.” He says, fucking frat boy.

Call him a frat boy, take him down a peg. Don’t hurt his feelings but don’t just… march to the sacrificial altar. “This looks good.” I say waddling towards the table at the center of the room. A table burdened with a feast fit for me.

The halfling can eat. I mean that’s it. I don’t really have any memories, or mood shifts like the other players, but I do get hungry. I guess you don’t get a body like this by accident.

He concedes that the meal does look good, but baby boy I’m already gone. I’m crawling into my humiliating hobbit high chair and getting to work. Roll in gravy, into bowl of buttery mush, into mouth, and my other hand is already pouring me a drink.

He gets the hint that there isn’t going to be any left for him if he lets me go on, so he sits down and goes to town too.

We eat and we talk and we belch, but it’s all real ‘aww shucks you caught my hand in the cookie jar’ type stuff. I can’t look at him he can’t look at me and the food is so fucking good. There are these Brussel sprout things that are charred and seasoned and so good, and also fuck it. I eat the whole bowl. If he wants me he can have these nasty ruffage farts too.

We’re kind of talking about the drama of the day. He’s worried about Jasmine, and mad at Night, and I’m just sick to my stomach worried about myself.

I’d never been scared of sex but I’d never been dragged to a king’s bed either.

“Yeah.” I say some other stuff too, but none of it offers much more value than “yeah.” I don’t even know why he’s talking to me, my minds in that bedroom.

Actually it’s easy to guess why he’s talking, yammering on, but it’s not really helpful for me to analyze him like that. I’m not Freud.

The why of Gabe doesn’t matter. Just the how. Just make me alive again.

That’s also the way of the world for ten thousand years, women using powerful men for their own means.

Don’t ya just love it though?

This morning I sell my soul to the guy, and tell him I’m willing to do anything for him. Then he turns it on me that same day.

Why don’t nazis ever get karmic justice like this?

Welp, the foods gone.

And now the plates.

And now the servants are milling about waiting for us to leave so they can clean.

And now we’re going to the bedroom and yadda yadda yadda sex.

Ugh...

Only I can't Yadda Yadda this shit away.

He unwaps me like a sausage, or I guess a present, and starts having the time of his life with my breasts. I 'm just laying there shaking, not happy, and he notices and gets all wounded, fucking fuckboy, and I'm just so angry I can't keep it down anymore. "Why?" I finally said, damn near raising my voice at the boy.

"Why what?" He asks, all innocent with that boner tenting his pants.

"Why did you pick me, when this fucking morning I stood there and told you I wasn't ready?"

"You think Lana was?"

"Just answer my question."

He takes a deep breath, then sits back, looking heavy. "Let's grab some desert." He says after a moment.

"And a conversation too." I say, relieved to not have him pawing at me anymore. I redress, acting like the silk is some kind of armor against him. I could make a straight up potato sack look risqué.

We return to the dining room in a heavy silence, and screw me that place is already filled with sweets. "Now this is a reward." I say, not knowing where to begin.

A servant approaches me with a cup full of something creamy, and I chug it down, moaning as I do. Whatever that stuff is I want more it's thick, and sweet, but kind of buttery. I think it's a kind of custard, and it's warm and it makes my whole body warm, and my head swoon. Alchohol?

I don't know, but I'm excited. I move to the table and start grabbing bites and noshing down. Gabe's watching me from the doorway, arms crossed. "Don't you want any?" I ask, mouth half full.

"I'm afraid to get my fingers in there." He laughs

"No I should slow down anyway." I pant, and lean against the table. My head really is swimming. Was I breathing during all that eating? I pop a few more chocolate balls in my mouth, and realize my forehead is dripping. "I feel hot." I say dabbing my forehead on my sleeve. "Oh fuck." I grunt, and pull my dress off of my breasts. My nipple are sensitive. These fat fucking chocolate kisses thick a as a candy bar, they can't even touch silk without electrocuting my pussy. My dripping pussy, I can feel it dripping down my legs. "What's happening?" I groan.

"I think I'm ready to talk about why I chose you." He said, approaching me.

"What did you do?" I gasp and press myself against the table but didn't make myself any room.

Then he puts his hands under my armpits, slick with the sweat of my overheated body as he hoists me up onto the table. "A little social lubricant." He confesses and undoes his pants. I'm pressed against him and can feetlmy pussy soaking into his shirt, and I'm grinding against him, my mind and my body on two completely separate ends of the spectrum for this encounter.

"You **** me?"

"You said you needed help seeing me as a sexual being." He actually grins, and then...

"Uuuuuuuuuuh!" In he goes. I didn't offer any resistance. I was like a freaking magnetic accelerator for him, he just slip and slid right in. I'd never been that wet, and it burns. I can practically feel neurons popping in my head.

"So here's your help!”

"Uuuuuh." I wince as he starts really going. He lets me go, and brings his hands back to my breasts kneading them like dough, roughly grabbing my nipples and pulling on them, causing me to spurt more lube on his drowning dick. Not the biggest I'd ever rid, by I'm not exactly the biggest I've ever been either. When you're two feet shorter, who's complaining about a missing inch or two? "That's what this is about?" I cry, trying real fucking hard to focus on my outrage.

Real hard guys!

The table is shaking, I’m shaking! It feels like his dick is going to come out my mouth, my tits were getting tossed around, and my brain and pussy were in a communion not sanctioned by the god I know!

"You passed on Lana because I said I didn't want to sleep with you?" I was finally able to cry out, not sounding nearly as outraged as I am, and not nearly as outraged as I should be.

Then he adjusts, pulls his dick out of me. He he then grabs my legs, and pulls me back onto him. My ass slides off the table, but he's got a hold on me, and balancing on my back I'm kind of just laying there getting fucked.

"I don't know." He said giving it to me so good. "I wanted Lana, but the audience chose you. Hell if I know Precious."

I don't know what to say to that, more of this shit with the voices in his head. More of Skye's nonsense.

MAYBE!

Maybe he's lying. Maybe he's turning my pussy inside out for fun. Maybe my beach ball breasts are bouncing around because he thinks it's funny. Maybe his fragile little ego couldn't take...

"But maybe." He says after a moment of thought, or maybe just a wave of pleasure. "Maybe yeah." He says again. "Maybe we need you to learn your place, and start thinking of me like this." And by ‘this’ he means, like a fucking animal. He bends down to bite my nipple hard enough to make me yelp and cum.

He pulls me off and gently tosses me back on the table even as my pussy is still quivering and contracting. "You want this." I moan, between a lot of just normal moaning.

"Of course I do." He says jerking his cock off over me. "I'm trying to save you, remember?" Then he takes a break to fling his pearly jizz all over me. "I promised."

"This isn't what you promised." I say, just to say it. Just so I don’t betray myself. I’m hoping we'd keep going. My pussy needs it, and it’s in charge. I can be mad later, but I only have him for this night.

"What a waste of jizz." He says, ignoring me completely. "Where's Vera when you need her?" I groan and start to crawl away atop the table. I’m shoving plates out of the way, and bunching up the table cloth under my knees. "Would that be fun?" He asks. watching my ass waddle. "Switching to her when I need to cum, filling her up when I'm done using you?"

It would be.

He grabs my ankle, and gently pulls me back to the edge of the table. The cloth bunches up around me, silverware fall from the edges, and my the time he's got me back to him, I'm hiding my face, hiding my smile, and spreading wide open for him.