Lewd Futanari Succubus Ch. 47

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Synopsis: An old man dies, torn by regret. Due to his high karma, he has “near-limitless possibilities for reincarnation”. He chooses to reincarnate in a fantasy world as a voluptuous futanari succubus with big tits and an irresistible smile.

Erotic fiction that contains: Futanari/Dickgirls, Genderbending, Futa on Female, BDSM, Nymphos, Masochistic characters, Threesomes, Orgies, Facefuck, Deepthroat, Dom/Sub, Taken by Monsters, Corruption, Game elements, Lots of Depravity, etc.

“That’s a relief!” Beatrice said in response to Number Twenty-six’s declaration of killing intent. Although she was already no stranger to taking a life, it somehow was easier to come to terms with killing another when she knew that they had the same intention.

Proactive self-defense? Beatrice wondered how her mind rationalized when and how it was fine to take a life, even if she was the one who arranged the circumstances for such a situation. Even back in the Shadow Woods, surely a solution could have been reached for dealing with the murder-rapist bandits without acting as the judge, jury, and executioner. And yet, Beatrice acted without hesitation.

But there was no time for such moral dilemmas right now–Beatrice was about to tango with her first opponent in these Games.

“Relief? Did I hear you right?” Number Twenty-six asked in disbelief, astonished and insulted by Beatrice’s easygoing demeanor. “What’s with that carefree, daydreaming attitude? You’re taking this way too lightly.”

“Same goes for you. Or did you forget that of us four only one person is supposed to survive?” Beatrice pointed out. “Even if you kill me and your wife wins her fight, you’d still have to fight each other to the death.”

“You’re worrying about the wrong thing,” Number Twenty-six said.

“Oh? And what should I worry about?” Beatrice asked, preparing to fight as she sensed an approaching end to this conversation and saw her opponent slowly change his stance.

“About what I’ll do to your body for insulting my wife!” Number Twenty-six shouted and interlocked his fingers. “Power of Body!”

Number Twenty-six suddenly bulked up. His muscles grew in size and density as if he compressed two months’ worth of weight training into a single second. And he wasn’t done.

“Leg Double-up!” the man shouted. A moment later his leg muscles grew even bigger, pressed against his skinny pants, and tore them up in several places as the leg muscles worthy of a track cyclist could not be contained.

The next second, Number Twenty-six sprinted toward Beatrice with a battle cry, one hand in front of him, the other at his hip. The moment he was within range, he unleashed a powerful punch aiming it right for Beatrice’s solar plexus.

The punch connected perfectly.

Huh? Beatrice looked down, past her breasts, at the straight muscular arm that still pressed the fist against the skin of her abdomen.

“Huh?” Number Twenty-six blinked twice.

-30 HP

“That’s it?” Beatrice asked.

“WHUOAH!!” Number Twenty-six jumped back, flabbergasted at what just had transpired. He landed several yards away from the big-breasted bimbo that just took his all-out attack as if it was a punch of a child. With his glasses sliding off his nose, breathing heavily, the man tried to figure out what was going on as cold sweat formed on his forehead.

Beatrice looked at her poor, confused opponent while replaying in her mind what just happened. Nothing at all, really. Even though the succubus saw the beefed-up man charge at her at full speed, and could comprehend that he charged at her at full speed, it somehow felt like she had to patiently wait for him to reach her.

Even as the clenched fist flew directly at her, Beatrice kept changing her mind whether to simply step aside or to deflect it, or to catch it or to break his arm. In the end, the attack seemed so underwhelming that Beatrice could not conceive a reality in which it could possibly do any serious damage. So, Beatrice decided to simply take it head-on to gauge the maximum damage an undefended attack such as this could do to her.

Just thirty Health Points? Beatrice brought up her Information tab.

Information

Name Beatrice

Age 18

Class Succubus

Level 18 (22%)

Health Points 485/500 (+0.88/sec)

Arousal Points 73/279 (+0.01/sec)

Stamina Points 190/190 (+0.48/sec)

Physical Attack 17

Physical Defense 22

Magic Attack 19

Magic Defense 34

Speed 17

Not even a tenth of my total points! And half of it is already regenerated!

All this time, as Beatrice continued to level and make gains in her stats, it never seemed like she made substantial progress in her character’s combat power. But now that Beatrice looked back to her few combat experiences in this world, she single-handedly wiped out four opponents, and while her last opponent overwhelmed her in raw power, she still ended up besting Konya travesti him. And Steve was no grunt either, but a unit leader of a powerful organization in this city.

And since Beatrice’s fight with Steve, she gained six more levels and made several noticeable upgrades to her wardrobe which boosted her stats considerably, even without the cloak that Beatrice left with Ember.

When Beatrice took all that into account, as well as the fact that she entered a fighting event whose sole purpose was to exploit the desperate, what hope could her first no-name opponent of these Games even have against her?

_

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck!? Number Twenty-six’s mind raced as he watched what little damage he managed to do to his masked big-breasted opponent heal right before his eyes. His attack was meant to–if not outright kill the demented cock-gifting corrupter of women–at the very least rupture her diaphragm, bashing the air right out of her and rendering her completely powerless. Instead, he watched the tiny bruise–that was barely more serious than a hickey–dissipate in a matter of seconds.

Meanwhile, seeing with her own eyes the results of her “test” play out in real-time, Beatrice learned to appreciate just how incredible her regeneration stats actually turned out to be. What at first was a somewhat considerable annoyance when it came to the regeneration of Arousal Points, now proved borderline broken when it came to Health Points.

No matter how much I level up, the Health Regeneration continues to increase along with the additional Health Points I gain from each level up, Beatrice analyzed. The regeneration speed is not affected by the additional Health I gain from items, but even with the bonus Health… From zero to full HP in under ten minutes!

Unless I fight an opponent that can repeatedly dish out serious damage, I will be favored to win any battle of attrition. And that’s without any serious investment into my Combat Craft! Beatrice was pleased with how quickly her arsenal of potential combat tactics expanded. And while some would foolishly consider stalling strategies cowardly, something within Beatrice enjoyed watching the shock in her opponent’s eyes turn to despair. Who wouldn’t despair if they saw their best efforts erased in seconds? When their life was on the line? A fighter with his spirit broken is already defeated.

Beatrice made mental notes to check with Ember and Samantha for armors with a very specific stat: additional Health Regeneration. Beatrice wanted to find out how far it was possible for her to push this regeneration angle.

“Is that restoration magic?” Number Twenty-six asked Beatrice. Apparently, his line of thought went very similarly to Beatrice’s.

“Do I have any reason to tell you?” Beatrice asked in return.

“Don’t take me lightly!!” he screamed, adjusted his glasses, and went into his combat stance again.

“Alright, I won’t! If you tell me your name!”

“A-are you making fun of me!?”

“Guilty as charged,” Bearice confessed. Anyone who is even remotely genre savvy or at least familiar with basic story structures would know that–usually–unnamed side characters are as low on the threat level as they can get. And while this was not one of those roleplaying campaigns her colleagues used to run, Beatrice was inside her wish-fulfillment world. And sensing any danger from her current opponent evaporating, Beatrice was simply being cute. As if finding out her opponent’s name would suddenly make him stronger!

“I swear I’ll make you regret this if it’s the last thing I do!!” Number Twenty-six screamed even louder as a reddish aura manifested around him. “Berserker’s Spirit! Defense for Offense! Reckless Assault!”

Number Twenty-six kept shouting Skill names and different auras manifested around him, one after another.

Ah, there was a name for it! Beatrice tried to recall the term for when characters temporarily increased their stats in role-playing games. Meanwhile, Number Twenty-six charged at Beatrice for a second time with double the fury and, more importantly, double the speed.

Unfortunately for Number Twenty-six, all this accomplished was that Beatrice didn’t feel like she needed to wait for quite so long this time around for her opponent’s attack to reach her. Still, if the speed increased, the damage must have increased as well, Beatrice concluded. The impact that speed has on kinetic energy is as basic as it gets.

Beatrice did not have any intention of willingly letting herself be damaged for a second time, especially by a stronger attack. Beatrice activated her [Sharp Claws] passive, effortlessly sidestepped Number Twenty-six’s straightforward attack, and slashed at the exposed, vulnerable arm, aiming to cripple her opponent’s attacking power.

“GHUAAAAAAAAARGH!!!” Number Twenty-six screamed as he grabbed his bleeding arm and fell on his knees, Konya travestileri next to the several severed pieces of his forearm.

“Ah!?” Beatrice took a step back, taken aback by the brutal amputation that she inadvertent ended up performing.

Eh… Oops? Beatrice looked at her long, sharp, blood-drenched claws, and could barely hold herself back from apologizing for causing such unwarranted, needless suffering. And as the succubus watched the auras around Number Twenty-six evaporate faster than they appeared, she remembered, Buffs!

_

Should I just put him out of his misery and get this over with? Beatrice wondered as she stood a couple of feet from her bleeding, screaming, one-arm-less opponent. The other duel of her so-called “bracket” was not over either. Beatrice looked at the duel between the snake lady and Number Twenty-five.

Mere minutes ago, Number Twenty-five had the snake lady’s temporary cock in her ass, and mere minutes later one of them would be dead. She still must have the dick I gave her! Beatrice remembered. I wonder if that makes it more difficult for her to move? Must be weird, right? But it certainly didn’t look that way. If anything, Number Twenty-five had more and more trouble keeping up with the snake lady’s speed.

What’s wrong with her? Beatrice wondered when she realized how tired and winded Number Twenty-five had gotten without even doing any serious damage to her opponent. Number Sixty-six isn’t even moving that fast! And yet, despite the snake lady not even exerting herself in dodging the incoming attacks, Number Twenty-five’s attacks seemed to land further and further from the intended target.

Number Twenty-five struck the rocks beneath where her opponent stood a second ago, sending pebbles into the air and damaging her own wrist. Her leg swings flew across the air, creating a refreshing breeze for her opponent. Not a single attack came even close to the promising start when Number Twenty-five took control of the dagger. The same dagger that after all this time still did not have a single drop of blood on it.

The dagger! Beatrice remembered and looked at the four-eyed milf’s wrist. Even through all of the milf’s indiscriminate–bordering on desperate–movements, Beatrice saw it clearly enough: the rot and blisters that spread from the putrid bite wound. Oh, so their fight is over too, Beatrice concluded when she realized the true state of their fight.

Whether it was some Magic Skill or literal poison, the result was the same. The more that Number Twenty-five moved, the more the poison spread, and the weaker she became. Number Sixty-six was literally stalling and waiting for the poison to do all the work for her. And why wouldn’t she?

Healing over time versus damage over time, huh? Beatrice couldn’t help but draw a parallel between her own possible stalling strategy and the snaky lady’s. Which would win out? Beatrice saw a blister pop on Number Twenty-five’s wrist, causing her to drop the knife from the sudden pain while yellowish pus spread further across her hand, infecting more skin. Yeah, fuck that! That was Beatrice conclusion concerning the contest between two effects over time. No way in seven hells am I letting that infectious snake near me!

“Argh!” Number Twenty-five grimaced in pain and grabbed her wounded wrist, finally acknowledging the wound that she must have had noticed before. But the moment she touched the festering wound, she screamed in pain as more blisters popped from the slightest pressure on them. She let go of her hand, but already too late. A mix of pus and bleeding skin and flesh tore from the rotting hand and stuck to her healthy fingers, connecting them to the original wound by slimy, bloody, odorous threads of mucus.

“You… What did you do!?” the milf screamed tearfully, picked up the dagger into her left hand, and in a fit of rage charged the venomous Number Sixty-six. The latest attack was even more embarrassing than the ones before it as the pain and poison took their toll on Number Twenty-five.

Without saying a word, the snake lady jumped aside, easily evading the attack. Number Twenty-five changed direction to follow-up her attack when–in the corner of her eye–she finally saw her husband, lying on the ground, grabbing his bleeding arm.

“Baby!!?” Number Twenty-five called out to her husband and stopped her offensive.

“You noticed it just now!?” Number Twenty-six lashed out at his wife as if she was to blame for his predicament. That’s when he saw his wife’s rotting hand. “What happened!?”

“I… That animal bit me!” She pointed at the hooded snake lady who was more than happy to let her opponent converse and waste more time. Beatrice could relate as she too was fine with simply standing by while Number Twenty-six bled out.

“P-Peter… It really hurts!” Number Twenty-five whimpered tearfully. She walked toward her husband, keeping her festering Travesti konya hand close to her chest while the wound spread to her forearm.

“Wendy…” Number Twenty-six quietly spoke his wife’s name with sadness. Spurred by her plight, he managed to get on his feet and, step-by-step, walked toward her.

“Oh, Peter!” Wendy cried out with joy when she saw her husband approach her and ran to him with her arms spread.

“Come here!” Peter spread his arms for a hug–even as more blood shot out in spurts out of the open wound of his hacked arm–and embraced his wife the second she reached him.

“Oh, I can’t stand not feeling your warmth for so long!” Wendy cried and kissed Peter’s face all over.

“It’s time, Wendy,” Peter said and looked Wendy right in the eyes.

“Oh, finally!” Wendy moaned and looked ecstatic. “Promise me we’ll kill that hooded piece of shit first!”

“Deal!”

Wait, wait, wait! Beatrice did not like one bit where this conversation was heading. The snake lady’s calm façade also showed a crack as she took a step toward the couple. But before either of them had a chance to do anything, the two lovebirds shouted in unison:

“Two For One!”

“Two For One!”

Peter and Wendy passionately kissed each other and made out while a black aura manifested around them and engulfed them both.

_

Both Beatrice and Number Sixty-six covered their faces from the sudden powerful gust of winds filled with dark energy that was also black as if to hammer home the point that whatever was happening was not good.

Did I just fall into a cliché of not finishing off my opponent when I had the chance? Beatrice hoped that her mistake would not end up even more embarrassing than it already was. But a single look from behind the cover of her arms at the source of the dark energy winds dashed all hopes of this just being some kind of strange double suicide pact.

Something strange was happening with the two figures within the energy vortex. Beatrice couldn’t tell if it was just the light and shadows dancing in the wins, but it looked like the two figures transformed and grew within the growing black aura.

“Oooh, what kind of an attack could participants Twenty-five and Twenty-six be preparing?” even the announcer acknowledged whatever was happening as worthy of attention.

The participants around the energy winds halted their fights, distracted by dark attention beacon. This proved a costly mistake for some as one beheading and one disembowelment put an end to two more careless participants.

“Tch! An amateurish mistake!” Thelicia clicked her tongue. “Keep your eyes on your enemy! That much should be common sense!”

Thelicia’s indifferent attitude toward people’s lives was blatantly obvious, however, what worried Beatrice at that moment was the strange figure that took shape in the dark vortex as the winds calmed down.

A single leg appeared first, black, covered in misaligned scales. Something took a step out of the spinning shadows, digging its giant, curved, yellowish claws of the four reptile-like fingers into the rocks.

Fuck, Beatrice cursed at the sign of things to come, yet she could not have guessed what followed. The creature took another step forward with its second leg, bringing its giant torso out of the obscuring winds. Then it took its third step with a third leg. Then a fourth. A four-legged, four-armed, two-headed, nine-feet tall monstrosity emerged from its transformation. If an orc, a dragon, and a centipede had a baby together, they would produce something prettier than this.

The creature had more claws than it would know what to do with. And many of the protruding spikes all over the creature’s limbs and back looked more like bones that outgrew the constraints of mortal flesh and black skin. Two black cloth armbands were wrapped around one of the creatures four arms. The red numbers spelled twenty-five and twenty-six, confirming that this creature was indeed some dark manifestation of the two participants.

One of the creature’s limbs missed a hand, however, it already grew several fluttering tentacles out of the healing wound. As for the hand that was disintegrating due to Number Sixty-six’s poison, instead of falling apart it calcified and grew larger than all the others, looking akin to an orc’s war hammer.

The two heads on the creature’s shoulders were the last reminder that this thing was once human. But even the heads looked barely human now. They swung at unnatural angles like puppets. Their jaws doubled in size and their teeth bore more resemblance to those of an anglerfish than human. Their tiny eyes were darker than black, and their hair now consisted of some kind of metallic braids. The fact that they still kept their glasses on their crooked noses made them even more unnerving.

WHAT. THE ACTUAL. FUCK!? Beatrice was not mentally prepared to witness something like this lumber toward her with ill intent.

One of the heads, Peter, judging by the shorter braids and an even uglier mug than his partner’s, shook rapidly and then straightened itself as if awakening from a daze. It then focused its attention on Beatrice and spoke in a deep, hoarse voice, “Now you pay!”.

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