Re: The Glorious Championship! [S3G5] [Round Two: The Kestalvian Rainforest]
09-21-2011, 05:21 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by TimeothyHour.
The Hedonist did a spit take.
It was quite a spit take, too, considering that, at the time, he was drinking sex-flavoured million-year-old wine from the finest vineyards in the universe. Under any other circumstances, there was no chance- absolutely none- that The Hedonist would’ve spit that wine. It was fucking sex-flavoured.
But this. This. This deserved a spit take of this magnitude. A second battle? Consisting of an entirely gender-swapped cast of his championship? It was too good to be true! Imagine all the make-out possibilities, the romantic self-dinners! The hedonistic potential was too great to miss out on! He would claim this second battle for himself. He already had so many plans.
The hedonist floated up from his throne made of a thousand undulating women, and generated a scrying panel from midair. Oh, there they were, Caiolinn and Gaurinne and Etiyra and Gabrielle, those glorious female bodies, so sleek and feminine and sexy. He just had to have them, they would be his, forever his…
Tenderly, he made sweeping motion across the surface of the screen. With his power, he would bring them here, and they would experience the power of an eternity of ecstasy. He would bring them into his universe, and they would be his playthings, completely dominated by his presence, his power! Yes, he would bring them, here and now!
And at that exact same moment, another hedonist, one more curvaceous, one more jiggly, tried to do the exact same thing.
And for a moment, the multiverse rumbled as a million universes collided into each other.
~~~
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU, I'M MAKING A PLAN," said two Etiyrs in two realities. <span style="font-family: Courier New">“AND I’M SO FUCKING AMAZING THAT I’VE ALREADY COME UP WITH IT. THIS IS WHAT WE’RE GONNA FUCKING DO-YOU BETTER LISTEN UP YOU HORRID ENGENDERED ABOMINATIONS. ARGH, POINT ME TOWARDS THEM AND DON’T BE A SHIT."</span>
The two Gabes in two realities pointed their Etyirs at the gender-flipped Calieans and Gaurinns, which the two Etiyrs promptly clacked at.
“SO THIS IS WHAT WE’RE FUCKING DOIN’. I THINK I’VE FIGURED OUT HOW TO KILL THAT COCKSUCKERMOTHERFUCKER CONVOLUTIONDICK. IT’S LIKE REALLY STUPID AND CONVOLUTED BUT WE’RE TRYING TO KILL SOMETHING STUPID AND CONVOLUTED SO THIS’LL BE LIKE A METAPHORICAL STAKE UP ITS METAPHORICAL ASS. SO, FIRST WE’RE GONNA-"
And then they collided with genderflipped versions of themselves that suddenly decided to occupy the same space as them.
Needless to say, when Captain Theophilus Mandragan XII, the Scourge of Orion then decided to descend upon the unsuspecting contestants immediately afterward, and when he had finished his long-winded introduction and paid enough attention to actually give a damn about his surroundings, he was confronted with a mess of bodies, tangled and arranged in rather… compromising positions.
And for once in his life Theophilus Mandragan XII was more interested in sex than he was in plunder.
And all the while, the silent scream of a paradox grass holocaust filled the forest, rumbling earth and time and mind.
~~~~
The Hedonist had a migraine. What the fuck just happened?
His female counterpart in the room was thinking the exact same thing.
They simultaneously lifted themselves off the gold plated floor, and confusedly looked around the room, all the while muttering, “What the fuck?” over and over and over.
And then they looked at each other, right in the eyes. The sound of jaws dropping to the floor would be heard for miles if not for the fact that they were both incorporeal.
“What?” they both said. “No. Fuck fucking no, I’m the only freaking hedonist. You’re a fucking imposter!”
They took the next moment to awkwardly point at each other accusingly for a few seconds. The silence was deafening.
At this point The Tormentor kicked down the Hedonists’ front door, much to their horror.
“My Ent-wood gold-plated door! Why would damage such a priceless-”
“I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR DOOR YOU IGNORANT PIG!” he said. The grandmaster was covered in smeared lipstick and dried blood. For once, his creepy, composed demeanor had completely evaporated. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO. TELL ME NOW. TELL ME NOW.”
“I-we- um, well there was a, and um…” The Male Hedonist nervously mumbled, which was soon finished by his female counterpart. “We wanted each other’s contestants.”
“Well, great. Juuuust great,” The Tormentor grumbled. “Because I’ll be honest and say that you caused one hell of a clusterfuck. Especially considering-”
“OHHHH TORMENTOR,” a rather feminine voice echoed from outside the hall.
“-fuck. How did she find me? Right, she’s me. Of course she would know where I went. Ok, fuck. Do you have anywhere I can hide?”
“You kicked down my Ent-wood door,” was the unanimous reply.
The Tormentor’s "unanimous reply" was a fucking middle finger, dammit. And then within an instant the grandmaster’s composure had resolidified, if not a little too quickly.
“There you are!”
The Tormentrix leaded against the exquisitely crafted door frame, fondling it like it was a stripper’s pole, or one of the giant golden dicktrees of Libidica 9. Her voice sounded like a too-young hooker, and considering her appearance consisted of blood, tentacles, and a fuckton of lipstick, she looked like one too. All in all, she was a horrible, terrible monstrosity everyone feared to behold.
It’s not that surprising, therefore, she was massively turned on by a horrible, terrible monstrosity like the Tormentor.
“Hello, dear,” The Tormentor said, a big, creepy smile on his face. You could tell it took all of his effort to not recoil in revulsion. “We’re going to get everything sorted out very soon. The Hedonists here will help me- won’t you, Hedonists?”
You could practically hear them nodding frantically.
“Good. Now, we’re going to-”
“Come on,” the Tormentrix said, rolling her eyes, “Don’t you want to have a little more fun?”
Suddenly the tentacles surrounding her were suddenly all holding about a thousand knives each. You could just barely- barely- see the tormentor twitch.
“Yeah, uh, not right now. We can have one more little ordeal as soon as we get this all fixed up.”
“Alright, alright, whatever.”
The thousand thousand knives disappeared, and any other man in the universe would have breathed the most colossal sigh of relief in the world. The Tormentor cleared his throat.
“Alright, so, everyone. Obviously there’s been quite a mix up, and we’re gonna need to fix it before one of the big wigs like The Fool find out and try to get us evaporated or something stupid like that. But just once -just this once, dear god- , we’re gonna need to work together. Because if anyone finds about this- ANY of this- you’re going to wish you got evaporated. I’ll make sure of it.”
Silence. After a few moments, The Tormentor clapped his hands together, and a thousand glasses appeared on his thousand eyes.
“Alright then. From the calculations I’ve made, the entire multiverse hasn’t been affected with this -I’m making a term up because this has never happened before- Torment-event, but a few of the neighboring grandmasters may have been afflicted. This includes me, obviously, The Charlatan, who hasn’t noticed because all the gender-bender energy was scooped up by one of his contestants, and The Spectator, who might actually have an idea on how to reverse this because really I have no idea where to start.”
The Tormentor clapped again, and the spectacles went away.
“So, obviously, what we have to do,” he said with a smile. “Is call her up. Or, should I say, call him up?”
~~~~
The Convolution was so pleased with this turn of events. So many males and females in one place, already all tangled up as if in the throes of that constant passion. It was so easy, oh so easy, to just nudge them in the right direction. Really, it was a lot of fun. One of the wackiest orgies it had ever experienced. And boy, did The Convolution love wacky.
It saved a few lines and actions that it wanted to remember or try to cause again with future iterations. Things like “Oh my god, this is my first time, and I’m doing it with myself.” and “HOLY FUCK HOW ON EARTH DO YOU DO THAT WITH A TYPEWRITER.” The Convolution particularly treasured “Um, c-could you make a… well, a dildo. Out of your hand. Please.”
Man, it was great. But The Convolution decided it would be best if it left, it had other things to do, and it didn’t particularly want to be there when they got back to their senses.
Besides, The Convolution would always be with them now. Deep down, in their hearts.
~~~~
Rrrrring
Rrrrring
Rrrrring?
Click.
“Hello?”
Somehow, it simultaneously surprised and failed to surprise everyone in the room that it was Male Spectator that answered the call. And let me tell you, he was gorgeous.
His empty eye sockets were framed with a pair of luxurious, thick-rimmed glasses that accentuated his chiseled features. A goatee- long, but not too long- adorned his manly chin like a badass crown. He dared not wear a shirt to cover his attractive, rippling muscles, so fine, so majestic.
He was swearing skinny jeans, and oh my gosh, they were the tightest, sexiest, fuckin’ amazing pair of skinny jeans that eyes could possibly behold. It was almost if his skin was made of denim, every detail of his powerful legs revealed, his massive, erect penis visible, if not for the tangle of ever changing hair that obscured such a sight not meant for Mankind. He made rhythmic pelvic trusts into the tangled mess, and you could a muffled “oooh, yes, oh god yes, ” inside of it.
“Hello, Spectator,” The Tormentor replied, his toothy grin not skipping a beat. “It seems as though you’re already aware of our… situation.”
There was a long pause before The Male Spectator replied. All the while in this dead time, he was thrusting his hips, over and over, to the beat of the Nnn Tzz Nnn Tzz thumping in the background.
Finally, he replied.
“You know,” he said. “I didn’t expect my female counterpart to be into bondage as much as she is. Ah well. Live and let life, I guess.”
The Tormentor was quick on the reply. “I suppose, but if you could, Spectator, we need your help-”
“Please don’t interrupt me when I’m talking,” he said with a shrug. He thrust into his female counterpart even harder for emphasis. “I don’t enjoy it.”
“…”
“Anyway, yeah, I know why you called me, and yeah, I know how to fix this problem. I’m fucking awesome like that. But no, I’m not going to help you right now.”
“But-”
“Don’t fucking interrupt me.” A muffled groan came from offscreen.
“Anyway,” he said, giving The Tormentreix a seductive wink all the while, “I’m going to help you… eventually. First, I want to go fuck some more people. Maybe The Fool? She always came off as sort of homosexual, y’know? I can finally get some action with, well, him, I guess.”
“If the others find out about this, they’re going to kill us all.”
“Is that a threat?” The Male Spectator collected a single drop of sweat that had appeared on his brow and drank it. He drank it like a man. “’Cuz I’m sort of in the mood for a fight, y’know?”
“I could totally beat you in a match. I can just see your skin peeling off,” The Tormentor replied with his ever-present grin. “But no, I’m not particularly interested right now. Maybe later.”
“I thought so.”
Another long silence. More pelvic thrusts. More Groaning.
“Anyway,” he continued. “This is what I’m gonna do. When your fuckin jungletimes timechaos round is over, I’m gonna help you out of this mess. Nothing happens between grand battle rounds, anyway.”
“In the meantime, I think I’ll go see how many Grandmasters I can put on my dick at once. Cya.”
click
The Hedonists stared at the screen for a long while, before voicing a word that pretty much summed up the conversation altogether.
“Fuck.”
The Hedonist did a spit take.
It was quite a spit take, too, considering that, at the time, he was drinking sex-flavoured million-year-old wine from the finest vineyards in the universe. Under any other circumstances, there was no chance- absolutely none- that The Hedonist would’ve spit that wine. It was fucking sex-flavoured.
But this. This. This deserved a spit take of this magnitude. A second battle? Consisting of an entirely gender-swapped cast of his championship? It was too good to be true! Imagine all the make-out possibilities, the romantic self-dinners! The hedonistic potential was too great to miss out on! He would claim this second battle for himself. He already had so many plans.
The hedonist floated up from his throne made of a thousand undulating women, and generated a scrying panel from midair. Oh, there they were, Caiolinn and Gaurinne and Etiyra and Gabrielle, those glorious female bodies, so sleek and feminine and sexy. He just had to have them, they would be his, forever his…
Tenderly, he made sweeping motion across the surface of the screen. With his power, he would bring them here, and they would experience the power of an eternity of ecstasy. He would bring them into his universe, and they would be his playthings, completely dominated by his presence, his power! Yes, he would bring them, here and now!
And at that exact same moment, another hedonist, one more curvaceous, one more jiggly, tried to do the exact same thing.
And for a moment, the multiverse rumbled as a million universes collided into each other.
~~~
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU, I'M MAKING A PLAN," said two Etiyrs in two realities. <span style="font-family: Courier New">“AND I’M SO FUCKING AMAZING THAT I’VE ALREADY COME UP WITH IT. THIS IS WHAT WE’RE GONNA FUCKING DO-YOU BETTER LISTEN UP YOU HORRID ENGENDERED ABOMINATIONS. ARGH, POINT ME TOWARDS THEM AND DON’T BE A SHIT."</span>
The two Gabes in two realities pointed their Etyirs at the gender-flipped Calieans and Gaurinns, which the two Etiyrs promptly clacked at.
“SO THIS IS WHAT WE’RE FUCKING DOIN’. I THINK I’VE FIGURED OUT HOW TO KILL THAT COCKSUCKERMOTHERFUCKER CONVOLUTIONDICK. IT’S LIKE REALLY STUPID AND CONVOLUTED BUT WE’RE TRYING TO KILL SOMETHING STUPID AND CONVOLUTED SO THIS’LL BE LIKE A METAPHORICAL STAKE UP ITS METAPHORICAL ASS. SO, FIRST WE’RE GONNA-"
And then they collided with genderflipped versions of themselves that suddenly decided to occupy the same space as them.
Needless to say, when Captain Theophilus Mandragan XII, the Scourge of Orion then decided to descend upon the unsuspecting contestants immediately afterward, and when he had finished his long-winded introduction and paid enough attention to actually give a damn about his surroundings, he was confronted with a mess of bodies, tangled and arranged in rather… compromising positions.
And for once in his life Theophilus Mandragan XII was more interested in sex than he was in plunder.
And all the while, the silent scream of a paradox grass holocaust filled the forest, rumbling earth and time and mind.
~~~~
The Hedonist had a migraine. What the fuck just happened?
His female counterpart in the room was thinking the exact same thing.
They simultaneously lifted themselves off the gold plated floor, and confusedly looked around the room, all the while muttering, “What the fuck?” over and over and over.
And then they looked at each other, right in the eyes. The sound of jaws dropping to the floor would be heard for miles if not for the fact that they were both incorporeal.
“What?” they both said. “No. Fuck fucking no, I’m the only freaking hedonist. You’re a fucking imposter!”
They took the next moment to awkwardly point at each other accusingly for a few seconds. The silence was deafening.
At this point The Tormentor kicked down the Hedonists’ front door, much to their horror.
“My Ent-wood gold-plated door! Why would damage such a priceless-”
“I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR DOOR YOU IGNORANT PIG!” he said. The grandmaster was covered in smeared lipstick and dried blood. For once, his creepy, composed demeanor had completely evaporated. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO. TELL ME NOW. TELL ME NOW.”
“I-we- um, well there was a, and um…” The Male Hedonist nervously mumbled, which was soon finished by his female counterpart. “We wanted each other’s contestants.”
“Well, great. Juuuust great,” The Tormentor grumbled. “Because I’ll be honest and say that you caused one hell of a clusterfuck. Especially considering-”
“OHHHH TORMENTOR,” a rather feminine voice echoed from outside the hall.
“-fuck. How did she find me? Right, she’s me. Of course she would know where I went. Ok, fuck. Do you have anywhere I can hide?”
“You kicked down my Ent-wood door,” was the unanimous reply.
The Tormentor’s "unanimous reply" was a fucking middle finger, dammit. And then within an instant the grandmaster’s composure had resolidified, if not a little too quickly.
“There you are!”
The Tormentrix leaded against the exquisitely crafted door frame, fondling it like it was a stripper’s pole, or one of the giant golden dicktrees of Libidica 9. Her voice sounded like a too-young hooker, and considering her appearance consisted of blood, tentacles, and a fuckton of lipstick, she looked like one too. All in all, she was a horrible, terrible monstrosity everyone feared to behold.
It’s not that surprising, therefore, she was massively turned on by a horrible, terrible monstrosity like the Tormentor.
“Hello, dear,” The Tormentor said, a big, creepy smile on his face. You could tell it took all of his effort to not recoil in revulsion. “We’re going to get everything sorted out very soon. The Hedonists here will help me- won’t you, Hedonists?”
You could practically hear them nodding frantically.
“Good. Now, we’re going to-”
“Come on,” the Tormentrix said, rolling her eyes, “Don’t you want to have a little more fun?”
Suddenly the tentacles surrounding her were suddenly all holding about a thousand knives each. You could just barely- barely- see the tormentor twitch.
“Yeah, uh, not right now. We can have one more little ordeal as soon as we get this all fixed up.”
“Alright, alright, whatever.”
The thousand thousand knives disappeared, and any other man in the universe would have breathed the most colossal sigh of relief in the world. The Tormentor cleared his throat.
“Alright, so, everyone. Obviously there’s been quite a mix up, and we’re gonna need to fix it before one of the big wigs like The Fool find out and try to get us evaporated or something stupid like that. But just once -just this once, dear god- , we’re gonna need to work together. Because if anyone finds about this- ANY of this- you’re going to wish you got evaporated. I’ll make sure of it.”
Silence. After a few moments, The Tormentor clapped his hands together, and a thousand glasses appeared on his thousand eyes.
“Alright then. From the calculations I’ve made, the entire multiverse hasn’t been affected with this -I’m making a term up because this has never happened before- Torment-event, but a few of the neighboring grandmasters may have been afflicted. This includes me, obviously, The Charlatan, who hasn’t noticed because all the gender-bender energy was scooped up by one of his contestants, and The Spectator, who might actually have an idea on how to reverse this because really I have no idea where to start.”
The Tormentor clapped again, and the spectacles went away.
“So, obviously, what we have to do,” he said with a smile. “Is call her up. Or, should I say, call him up?”
~~~~
The Convolution was so pleased with this turn of events. So many males and females in one place, already all tangled up as if in the throes of that constant passion. It was so easy, oh so easy, to just nudge them in the right direction. Really, it was a lot of fun. One of the wackiest orgies it had ever experienced. And boy, did The Convolution love wacky.
It saved a few lines and actions that it wanted to remember or try to cause again with future iterations. Things like “Oh my god, this is my first time, and I’m doing it with myself.” and “HOLY FUCK HOW ON EARTH DO YOU DO THAT WITH A TYPEWRITER.” The Convolution particularly treasured “Um, c-could you make a… well, a dildo. Out of your hand. Please.”
Man, it was great. But The Convolution decided it would be best if it left, it had other things to do, and it didn’t particularly want to be there when they got back to their senses.
Besides, The Convolution would always be with them now. Deep down, in their hearts.
~~~~
Rrrrring
Rrrrring
Rrrrring?
Click.
“Hello?”
Somehow, it simultaneously surprised and failed to surprise everyone in the room that it was Male Spectator that answered the call. And let me tell you, he was gorgeous.
His empty eye sockets were framed with a pair of luxurious, thick-rimmed glasses that accentuated his chiseled features. A goatee- long, but not too long- adorned his manly chin like a badass crown. He dared not wear a shirt to cover his attractive, rippling muscles, so fine, so majestic.
He was swearing skinny jeans, and oh my gosh, they were the tightest, sexiest, fuckin’ amazing pair of skinny jeans that eyes could possibly behold. It was almost if his skin was made of denim, every detail of his powerful legs revealed, his massive, erect penis visible, if not for the tangle of ever changing hair that obscured such a sight not meant for Mankind. He made rhythmic pelvic trusts into the tangled mess, and you could a muffled “oooh, yes, oh god yes, ” inside of it.
“Hello, Spectator,” The Tormentor replied, his toothy grin not skipping a beat. “It seems as though you’re already aware of our… situation.”
There was a long pause before The Male Spectator replied. All the while in this dead time, he was thrusting his hips, over and over, to the beat of the Nnn Tzz Nnn Tzz thumping in the background.
Finally, he replied.
“You know,” he said. “I didn’t expect my female counterpart to be into bondage as much as she is. Ah well. Live and let life, I guess.”
The Tormentor was quick on the reply. “I suppose, but if you could, Spectator, we need your help-”
“Please don’t interrupt me when I’m talking,” he said with a shrug. He thrust into his female counterpart even harder for emphasis. “I don’t enjoy it.”
“…”
“Anyway, yeah, I know why you called me, and yeah, I know how to fix this problem. I’m fucking awesome like that. But no, I’m not going to help you right now.”
“But-”
“Don’t fucking interrupt me.” A muffled groan came from offscreen.
“Anyway,” he said, giving The Tormentreix a seductive wink all the while, “I’m going to help you… eventually. First, I want to go fuck some more people. Maybe The Fool? She always came off as sort of homosexual, y’know? I can finally get some action with, well, him, I guess.”
“If the others find out about this, they’re going to kill us all.”
“Is that a threat?” The Male Spectator collected a single drop of sweat that had appeared on his brow and drank it. He drank it like a man. “’Cuz I’m sort of in the mood for a fight, y’know?”
“I could totally beat you in a match. I can just see your skin peeling off,” The Tormentor replied with his ever-present grin. “But no, I’m not particularly interested right now. Maybe later.”
“I thought so.”
Another long silence. More pelvic thrusts. More Groaning.
“Anyway,” he continued. “This is what I’m gonna do. When your fuckin jungletimes timechaos round is over, I’m gonna help you out of this mess. Nothing happens between grand battle rounds, anyway.”
“In the meantime, I think I’ll go see how many Grandmasters I can put on my dick at once. Cya.”
click
The Hedonists stared at the screen for a long while, before voicing a word that pretty much summed up the conversation altogether.
“Fuck.”