Created Wednesday 27 April 2011
In the near future, electronic gaming is indistinguishable from real life, and has absorbed TV, film and porn making into a single industry.
Rebecca and Sasha are sword wielding, world champion professional players and the idol of billions – including one very special s&m loving hacker.
Suddenly the two girls find themselves trapped in a hacked game in which they can really die, and turned into virtual sex slaves. Unhampered by the limitations of real life, they are subjected to unlimited punishment and adventure.
They have to find a way to escape or die – or become SMGamers.
The last Orc arched back in a spray of green blood as one of the blades of Rebecca's double bladed staff slashed through its thick scaly throat, the blade and staff moving so fast that it was just a propeller-like silver and black blur. It's heavy, faintly reptilian and armour covered body crashed to the ground as she flicked the blood off of her blade with a practised movement of her wrist before retracting the blades into the body of the staff with a dramatic flourish. Four short, claw-like blades evenly spaced around each end of the staff meant that it was still an extremely deadly weapon even with the main blades sheathed. She did a quick check to make sure that she didn't have any injuries. In the heat of combat it was common not to feel fairly severe wounds, especially due to her extremely high hit points, and it would be embarrassing to discover that she was leaking a trail of health points like a newbie.
This greatly intensified the sensations shooting like fiery sparks from her clit, and Rebecca's fingernails scrabbled at the counter top as if she were trying to ease an itch. It was also extremely titillating, and her hips made small jerking motions in an uncontrollable response. However, the steady friction of the birch against her clit soon became irritating, and then achingly uncomfortable. She mewled softly as he increased the force he was using, almost slapping at her clit over and over, and it became distinctly painful, in a sore, aching kind of way. Her clit grew even more rigid, as if it was determined to be punished by the slapping twig. No one had ever treated her clit like this before, nor had she ever considered allowing anyone to do so. The closest she had ever come was when a lover forgot to shave before giving her head, and she would normally put an end to such irritation very quickly. Instead, here she was actually offering her clit for mistreatment, and it was strangely exciting. She had always been stimulated by challenges, no matter how strange or dangerous, and the threat of pain had never deterred her. The challenge of keeping her clit outstretched, almost daring this unknown man to hurt it, actually felt good. It made her feel alive. She refused to be beaten by the fear of pain or her natural desire to protect that most sensitive part of her body.