I was ready.
Bed? Perfect temperature. Blanket? Wrapped around me like a cocoon. Book stand? Custom made, mounted to my right so my dominant hand stayed free.
Free for important duties.
My left hand was already beneath the blanket, gently patting my beast. Warming him up. Letting him know the feast was about to begin.
But a true warrior never enters battle unprepared.
I ran through my checklist.
Box of tissues? Check. Hand lotion? Check. Protein bar for post-session recovery? Check. Trash bin within throwing distance? Check. Phone switched off and faced down? Check.
No distractions. No interruptions. Just me, my beast, and fresh poison.
I turned the first page with my free hand.
Let the ritual begin.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
One hour passed.
One fucking hour.
I stared at the ceiling, my soul leaving my body. Then I looked beneath the blanket.
My dick was dead.
Not sleeping. Not resting. Dead.
The same beast that would leak at the mere mention of thighs. The same soldier that stood at attention for even the trashiest smut. He laid limp in my left hand like a corpse.
I looked closer.
'Is he... glaring at me?'
He was. My own dick was cursing me for feeding him this garbage.
"Sorry buddy," I whispered. "I didn't know."
I got up from the bed, completely naked, and grabbed that piece of shit book.
RIIIIIP.
Tore it right in half.
I walked to the trash can. The same trash can where countless tissues had met their end. Tissues filled with the evidence of my dedication. My passion. My art.
And I threw that book right in there with them.
It didn't deserve a place on my shelf. It didn't even deserve D rank. This was below D rank. This was negative rank. This was "find the author and castrate him" rank.
The first few chapters made me want to vomit.
No smut. No spice. No lemons. Just... worldbuilding.
Page after page of boring ass worldbuilding.
But that wasn't even the worst part.
That world didn't have sex.
Let me repeat that.
That. World. Didn't. Have. Sex.
The citizens lived without pleasure. Without desire. Without lust. They walked around like emotionless robots, completely unaware of what they were missing.
And baby making? Some bullshit called "bonding" where couples just... slept together for a while or something not mentioned in those chapters. No details. No mechanics.
Why?
Because some god got pissy.
Probably got rejected. Probably got laughed at for his size. Or maybe some goddess told him he finished too fast. Whatever the reason, the pathetic bastard cursed his entire world for it.
'Imagine being that petty.'
I grabbed my cock tightly.
A dark thought invaded my mind.
'What if this happened to me?'
What if my hormones vanished? My testosterone? What if I could never get hard again? Never feel the rush? Never experience the satisfaction of a successful session?
My life would be over.
I would be a walking corpse. A shell of a man. Dead inside with a dead beast outside.
Curse was too small a word for that.
I felt genuine sympathy for those poor citizens. Living without ever knowing what they were missing. Never feeling pleasure through intimacy. Never experiencing the joy of—
'Actually, no. Fuck them. They're fictional.'
I shook my head.
Coming back to reality, that novel was so trash that even yuri was better. And I hate yuri. Two girls going at it with no dick involved? What's the point? Where's the penetration? Where's the—
'Focus, Zarix.'
I clenched my fist.
"Curse you, author. Curse you, mystery girl."
That bitch at the bookstore. She recommended this garbage. She smiled at me like she knew something. Like this was some kind of joke.
"Tomorrow," I muttered. "Tomorrow I'm going back there. And I'm getting my revenge."
A brutal revenge.
A revenge involving her bent over that counter. Skirt lifted. Whimpering apologies while I—
'Calm down.'
I sighed and laid back on my bed.
'How the hell am I supposed to sleep now?'
Then everything changed.
White light flooded through the windows. Blinding. Overwhelming. Way too bright for nighttime.
I raised a hand to shield my eyes, squinting through the gaps in my fingers.
Something was coming.
Something big.
Something metallic.
'Is that... a fucking plane?'
The nose of an aircraft smashed through my wall.
CRAAAAAASH.
The front of the plane broke apart on impact. Debris flew everywhere. And the wheels. The massive landing gear wheels came rolling straight toward me.
Straight toward my dick.
'NO. NOT THERE. ANYWHERE BUT THERE.'
Time slowed down.
I saw my life flash before my eyes. Every session. Every conquest. Every page I had painted white. All of it meaningless if my beast was crushed.
In a burst of pure survival instinct, I yanked myself upward and spread my legs.
WHOOOOSH.
The tire bounced right beneath my sack. Missing by inches.
'Holy shit. I'm alive. My dick is alive. We made it—'
BOOOOOOM.
The plane exploded.
Fire. Heat. Pain.
My entire house was engulfed in flames. My skin was burning. My lungs were filling with smoke.
'This is it. I'm dying.'
But if I was going to die, I wanted to die with honor. Like a true warrior. Standing tall. Beast fully erect. A monument to my legacy.
I looked down.
My dick was limp.
Completely dead.
That stupid novel had killed him so thoroughly that even facing death couldn't revive him.
'Are you fucking kidding me?'
This was the most dishonorable death imaginable. Naked? Yes. But with a soft cock? Pathetic. Shameful. A disgrace to gooners everywhere.
I closed my eyes.
The pain faded.
The heat disappeared.
Everything went dark.
I opened my eyes.
Fire.
But not the burning kind. A fireplace. Warm. Cozy. Expensive looking.
'Where the hell am I?'
I looked around. I was in a room. A fancy room. Everything screamed royalty. The furniture. The decorations. The craftsmanship.
'Don't tell me...'
High ceilings. Medieval design. Fantasy aesthetic.
'I transmigrated?'
I transmigrated into some High Medieval Fantasy world?
'Am I a prince?'
My mind immediately went dark.
'If I'm royalty... I can fuck every maid in this castle.'
The fantasies started flowing.
'Tax collectors knocking on doors. Husband can't pay? No problem. Send the wife to the prince's chambers. She can work off the debt on her knees.'
'Debt forgiveness programs. Very generous. Very hands on.'
I was already planning my reign of degeneracy when—
"Ahhh...!"
A voice. Female. Pained.
'The fuck?'
I followed the sound, walking through the hall. The walls were covered with portraits. Ancestors, probably. Old people in fancy clothes trying to look important.
'Fifty of these ugly bastards? Who approved these paintings? The artist should be executed.'
SLAP.
My thoughts were interrupted.
CRACK.
"AHHHN...!"
The sounds were getting closer. Louder.
I reached a door. Slightly open. Unlocked.
I peeked inside.
And my eyes went wide.
A man laid on a massive bed. On his right, clinging to his chest, was a gorgeous woman. Maybe early thirties. Wearing a silk nightgown. Her fingers traced circles around his nipple.
On his left was another woman. Older. Late forties. A milf in every sense of the word.
But the main attraction?
An elf girl.
Completely naked.
Positioned on all fours in front of them like furniture. The man's legs rested on her hips, using her as a footstool.
Her ass was bright red. Covered in marks. Handprints. Whip marks. Her back was the same.
She was breathing hard. Trembling. Barely holding herself up.
Her pussy was convulsing with those breaths.
'Did I miss some deepthroat action? Damn.'
The man raised a whip.
CRACK.
"AHHHN...!"
Her body jolted. The woman on his chest giggled, still playing with his nipple.
'Oh. So it's bondage stuff.'
I felt something stirring well technically not felt it was just my mind and the instincts I have fed it from its whole life.
Pleasure.
Excitement.
My hand instinctively went down. Reaching for my one eyed snake. Ready to witness live lemons for the first time in this new world.
My fingers found it.
And froze.
'It's... small.'
Too small.
Way too small.
And it wasn't waking up. After witnessing this scene. After seeing a naked elf getting whipped. My beast just laid there.
Dead.
I looked at my hand.
Small. Soft. Tiny fingers.
A child's hand.
My heart dropped.
"What the hell is happening?"