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> Bluff, In which Ghat must defeat a Corwid using his wits
d2r
post Aug 11 2013, 06:35 AM
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From: St. Andrews, Scotland
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How y'all doin'. So after writing my previous story, I was browsing and saw this gem.

QUOTE (Carlos Bordeu @ Jul 19 2011, 09:44 PM) *
[...] I would love to see someone go through the challenge of making some hot Animasta fan art. ;)


I knew at once that I had a mission.

However, I can't draw. So I wrote, using my previous story as a jumping point. In the end, it wasn't "hot". Far from it. But I suppose it fits better that way.

So, with my sincere apologies to the Zeno Clash dev team...

***

NOTE: Contains some risqué humour and oblique sexual references. Also violence on par with the game itself. Consider yourself warned. Or tantalized, you pervert.

***

Bluff


He hadn't been awake for an hour, and already Ghat had gotten in a fight.

This time it was with one of the Corwid women; the one called Animasta. Manic even by Corwid standards, she shrieked with laughter as she attacked. Her face and upper torso was concealed by a large metal helmet, forcing him to focus his attacks against her unprotected lower body. Her only other clothing of note was a truly filthy skirt of fur from some unidentifiable animal which covered her waist, and a metal boot over her right leg.

“Hiyaa!”

She slashed at him with a roundhouse kick that would have cold-cocked him if he hadn't ducked out of the way. Seeing an opportunity, he quickly moved close in, grabbed her shoulders, and drove his right knee into her stomach as hard as he could.

She made a gagging noise and doubled over. Something white and bilious drizzled forth from the holes in her helmet, and Ghat realized with a grimace that the force of the blow had made her throw up inside it. The reek of the vomit quickly reached his nostrils and made him gag. Then again, Animasta smelled so bad already that it was more or less an improvement. Not that he smelled any better – living in filth was part and parcel of being a Corwid of the Free. Although he supposed there might one day be a Corwid who decided that he would be clean. And that would be what he'd do.

Such a compulsion was unlikely to end well, and he sincerely hoped nobody would take such an idea into their heads, for their sake.

Animasta staggered back a few steps, then collapsed to the ground and lay still. Presumably she'd passed out. One more trophy for him, he supposed.

He got to his knees and leaned down over her, trying to decide which piece to take. The helmet was out of the question – too bulky, and after seeing her puke in it he really didn't feel like trying to take it apart. Nor did he care to find out what her face looked like at this point. Maybe he could detach part of the boot...

Without warning, she breathed in sharply and grabbed his wrist. Before he could decide whether to pull it away or to drive his free hand into her stomach, she'd guided it up her leg, across her chest and under her armour to feel her...

“Ch'kak!” he said after a disbelieving second, and tried to wrench his hand free. But she held stubbornly on, keeping his hand right where it was. She cackled again, but this time her laughter was much softer in tone. Perhaps it was some terribly perverse attempt at being seductive. It occurred to him that this, whatever this was, might be what Animasta did.

She leaned up and attempted to slide her free hand into his pants. He grabbed her wrist and held her hand away – perhaps a little slower than he should have. It occurred to him that the last time he'd been with a woman had been some three or four moons ago – with Deadra the night before he'd left Halstedom.

Kek – was he really thinking about this?

All thoughts of claiming his trophy forgotten, he shoved her away and attempted to rise. But she was fast – especially for someone he'd battered into unconsciousness less than a minute ago. She grabbed his legs and tackled him, tripping him up and bearing him to the ground, and then quickly climbed up and straddled him. His right arm was pinned beneath his body, and she grabbed his left and held it to the ground.

“Get off me,” he snarled, “You crazy tef.”

She giggled in response, and headbutted him. The force of her helmet cracking into his skull left him dazed, and he stopped struggling for several seconds while he tried not to black out. When he came to, she had him firmly pinned beneath her and was using her free hand to reach into his pants and fondle him. He remembered Deadra doing the same...

No. This was not happening.

He considered his position. Both his arms were pinned – one beneath his body, and the other held in an iron grip. Animasta was straddling him with one hand in his pants, giggling, and appeared on the whole to be doing her best to rape him. If he intended to prevent that from happening, he realized, he'd have to play along with her for long enough to get her to drop her guard and let him work his other hand free.

He stopped struggling for a moment, and then leaned up to kiss her stomach. It tasted like a hideous combination of ammonia, vomit, sweat, and dirt, but he did his best to force down his gag reflex and act like he was enjoying it. She made a disturbing noise that was half laugh and half moan, and he felt her grip on his left arm loosen slightly – but not enough for him to escape. And his other arm was still pinned beneath his body. He considered putting his tongue in her navel, but the thought of what might be in there was enough to dissuade him from trying it.

He realized he'd have to respond to the hand in his trousers if she was going to buy into his performance enough to let him free his arm. He screwed his eyes shut and mentally replayed several of the more memorable scenes of his last night with Deadra. Soon he heard a satisfied giggle from Animasta, and the grip on his arm loosened further. He took a chance, and tried to move his left hand over to stoke her thigh. She let him do it, and released her grip on his arm, trailing the hand across his cheek as he continued to run his tongue across her stomach. One free.

She leaned backward and made another eerie moan-giggle that sent a shiver down his spine. He leaned forward to continue kissing her stomach, making enough space for him to pull his second arm free. She made no move to stop him – Animasta, the poor crazy tef, had evidently bought into his act enough to believe he seriously intended to lie with her. He put the other hand on her hip, and felt her run her free hand through his hair.

He actually considered going through with it for a moment. It had been a long time since he'd been with a woman. He could probably deal with the smell if he tried, and the helmet meant he wouldn't have to see her face. And it wasn't as though taking multiple lovers was uncommon in Zenozoik – in point of fact, it was more or less the norm – so he wouldn't really be betraying Deadra if he did. Then he considered the ugly possibility that he might end up getting her pregnant, and thought better of it. These woods were no place to raise a child, and he had no intentions of being a father for a long time yet – and certainly not with Animasta.

As a result, she had managed to work him free of his trousers, and was busy trying to remove her ragged skirt, when he drove both hands hard into her stomach. She gasped and toppled off of him. Before she could regain her feet, he'd struggled upright and was off like a shot, sparing only a moment to snatch up his trousers before sprinting away as fast as he could. Behind him, he could hear an outraged shriek, and an attempt to run after him, but he'd winded her and she was too slow to keep up. Within a minute, he'd managed to lose her in the woods.

After he was sure he'd left her behind, he stopped, put his trousers back on, and sat wearily down against a tree. He found a piece of fruit growing nearby and idly munched on it.

“Ch'kak,” he said to himself again. “Crazy woman.”

As he was finishing the piece of fruit and looking around for another, he suddenly realized he'd never managed to take a trophy from her. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Ah, kek. Maybe next time.”
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