PLAN B

[LazyAJ]

That kind of thinking's all well and good until someone wants to write big, muscly, amazonian, futa-cock, salamander women. Then where will be, B? Where will we be?!

Tychris, I guess.

Oh no Br'er Fox, don't throw me under that muscular salamander lady! Anything but that!

 

[B]

Updated Astraea with 5,600 words! This finishes her intro, does her appearance screen, and most of this update is a single talk topic that recaps BQ2 (even if you didn't do it) and expands on the lore. Also updated the free version up to the Appearance screen!

What use would Matiha have for an ordinary rock that’s been enchanted with an out-of-date spell?

“That’s the wrong question,” Astraea says, pointing her index finger at you. “The first question you should be asking is: who would have the longevity to take advantage of Vodo’s long-lasting application?

… [pc.isBimbo|You dunno.

“Nareva, [pc.name],” Astraea says patiently. “|Nareva. And, if Matiha’s aging had stopped, then Matiha herself.

“Correct. ]The second question is: what is the one advantage that Vodo has over modern enchantments?”

… [pc.isBimbo|You dunno.

“It’s that Vodo has no upper limit,” Astraea answers for you.|[pc.isMage|You’re really digging into your previous research for this one, but… it’s that… Vodo doesn’t have an upper limit, if you remember correctly. Its power is theoretically infinite, if you wait long enough.

“That’s correct!” Astraea says, gently clapping her right fingers against the butt of her left palm. From anyone else, it might seem like a derogatory gesture.|She has you at a disadvantage. You’ve been paying attention, but this one hasn’t come up in conversation.

“It’s that Vodo, as a spell, doesn’t have an upper limit,” she explains. “If you’re willing to wait long enough, then whatever it is you enchant could store an <b>infinite</b> amount of power.”

You’re starting to see how a witch like Matiha might be interested in something like that.]]

“And the final question,” Astraea finishes as she lifts three fingers into the air. “Why do you think Nareva had a common rock enchanted with Vodo in her personal vault?”

[pc.isBimbo|… You–

“It’s because the enchantment is almost as old as she is,” Astraea answers for you. “And therefore…?”

Uh… it’s… it’s a really, really strong rock?

“Correct.”|Because it’s been sitting around long enough to hold enough power that a god would take interest in it.

“And if a god wants it,” Astraea finishes, “then imagine what <b>anyone</b> could do with it. Especially someone with magical aptitude like Matiha.”]

“So, Matiha has a Narevan artifact that’s holding several century’s worth of power within it. There is vanishingly little she can’t accomplish with the stone. Her power would have been on par with Nareva’s – a god’s.”

“But here’s the thing,” she continues, crossing her arms and tapping her right bicep with her left fingers. It sounds like she’s drumming clay. “Vodo is an ancient spell. The best scholars and magicians across many, <b>many</b> generations couldn’t find a way to improve it. If we could enhance Vodo so that its accumulation was faster, or more efficient, or both, then it’d be an especially powerful spell in the modern world. But nobody could figure out how. Everyone always thought that it was as perfect as it was ever going to get.”

From the way she’s speaking…

“Right,” Astraea nods, her eyes locked onto yours. “Matiha found a way. She figured out how to improve it.”

What does that mean?

“[pc.isMage|As you know, ]Vodo works by taking the energies from the miasma surrounding us and channeling it into whatever was enchanted with the spell. You enchant something with it, then just leave it sitting around, and over time, it’ll suck the power right out of the air to store it in the object that has the enchantment.” Astraea lifts her hand and stares at it, flexing her fingers. She makes a tight fist, then relaxes her digits, looking at her own palm as if she doesn’t recognize what she’s staring at. “I can’t explain it any better than ‘she pointed the rock at me, and then, I could feel the magic getting torn from my body.’ Matiha had found a way to not only improve Vodo, but to <b>weaponize</b> it.”

 

[BlackAion]

Im surprised no one caught this but there is a small disconnect between Berwyn with Large cock Dominant scenes and all of Berwyn with large cock other scenes. The dominant scenes explicitly describes Berwyn has having smallish balls while in the submissive scenes and even the appearance he is described as having fairly large if not outright head sized balls.

 

[LeDoraggo]

Im surprised no one caught this but there is a small disconnect between Berwyn with Large cock Dominant scenes and all of Berwyn with large cock other scenes. The dominant scenes explicitly describes Berwyn has having smallish balls while in the submissive scenes and even the appearance he is described as having fairly large if not outright head sized balls.

You could argue that someone performing more "dom" leaning activities would have more oportunities to empty their balls that someone performing more "sub" leaning ones
Then again, might just be a simple oversight

 

[BlackAion]

I am told on discord that the sex scenes DID in fact have different authors with the intention that everyone would get their own ideal scenario for Berwyn. So there was definite miscommunication. I posted this in bug reports.

 

[B]

Updated Astraea with over 20,000 words, more than doubling its previous wordcount! This finishes all of her talk scenes; it does all of her therapy scenes; and it dips its toes into the sex scenes.

Read at https://patreon.com/TheLetterB

You tell her that, whenever you’re upset about something, you have a big list of things you can do that helps you get your mind off it. You figure that a big ol’ brainiac like her is gonna go to her room and crack open a book and do some studying. And that’s great, if that works for her! But magic is what got her in this sour mood in the first place, so maybe doing something physical will help calm her down. Like eating. Eating helps you calm down. Or having a nap. Sometimes, you wake up in a bad mood still, but at least you’re not grumpy because you’re tired. If there’s a friend nearby and they have the time, you can play a game–

With a sudden burst of energy, Astraea [pc.heightRange 0 66|turns toward you, bends over, hooks her hands underneath your armpits, and effortlessly lifts you into the air. She spins and presses your back against the nearby wall, pinning you between it and her|turns toward you, grabs you with both hands by the collar of your [pc.upperGarment], and spins you both, slamming your back against the nearby wall and pinning you between it and her]. The suddenness of the motion, and the impact you make, put you in a short daze.

“You may be a vaunted guest within the palace, [pc.name], but I’m not in the mood for your antics this time,” she growls. The heat of her breath washes against your collarbone, sinking down underneath your top. Her voice is low enough that only you can hear it. “I’m going to speak the language you know best, [pc.name]. If you <b>really</b> want me to ‘feel better’, then you can put that running mouth of yours to better use.”

Oh.

… Hell yeah.

“It’s not the result we wanted, naturally,” the doctor says as he scribbles notes onto his pad. “But we weren’t anticipating a perfect result. I know you’re tired of hearing it, Astraea, but recovery isn’t a binary process, and like an injured soldier relearning how to walk, easing your body into relearning how to properly handle magic is all a part of the process. You just need to have patience.”

“Doc[ast.bq2||tor],” she suddenly snaps, whipping her head towards him with such ferocity that her hair swishes across her shoulders. “My <b>patience</b>–”

The doctor remains nonplussed by Astraea’s sudden aggression, and the moment their eyes meet, her energy deflates and her body relaxes. He’s not her enemy, and she knows that. But her emotions got ahead of her.

The infirmary falls deathly silent as Astraea lowers her hackles. The strength suddenly leaves her body, and her fingers fall slack – and the rock in her left hand drops, clinking against the floor. She looks down in surprise; she hadn’t intended to do that.

“It’s just,” she says somberly. Her throat catches, causing the last syllable to come out higher than she intended. “I don’t know how many more times I can wake up in the morning and not recognize my own hands. Or look in the mirror and see someone else.”

The doctor remains silent, then turns back to his pad and writes something else. “I know we’ve discussed this in the past,” he says before finishing his note and looking up at her. “I can schedule you with the palace’s counsellor, if you’d like.”

She pauses. She considers it. The sound of her breathing through her nose fills the ambience. “No,” she eventually decides. “With the state of the world today, there are more able-bodied fighters in the palace’s retinue that need more immediate attention. My dysphoria doesn’t stack up against someone else’s trauma.”

“Mental health isn’t some kind of competition, Astraea.”

“It’s not,” she agrees, “but I didn’t spend years of my life locked in my room studying just to crumble at the sight of a mirror. I’ll… survive. I can put up with it.”

The doctor curls his lips inward, his eyes narrowing. You know that look – it’s the look of someone who isn’t sure if they believe the person they’re speaking to. From the way she’s reacting to her perceived repeated failures in therapy, Astraea could be on the verge of a breakdown. You’re pretty sure you’re making the same face.

“Well,” he says with a languid sigh. “I can’t make you take a treatment you don’t want to take. But the offer is there if you ever change your mind.” He turns his back to you both as he makes for the infirmary’s dedicated apothecary. “That’s enough for today. Remember to do your exercises. I’ll speak with you again tomorrow, same time.”

It’s rude to stare and all, but you can’t help it. Astraea’s shirt barely covers her tits, themselves each the size of your head, much less her set of washboard abs that are so defined, you could grate ice on them. Her kilt does a modest job of concealing her bulge, but there’s simply not hiding the beast it’s containing. If she crosses her legs even just a little bit off-center, its tip would slip from the underside of the fabric.

[ast.bq2|Astraea, naturally, notices your staring, and she does nothing to dissuade you. In fact, her left hand goes to her abs and scratches them, her fingernails raking across the whole set of six in what is a wholly unnatural motion for scratching an itch, but it does the job of keeping you engrossed. “You know, I was just thinking,” she says, turning her head to one side and pretending there’s something interesting to look at in her personal library. “It’s true that I want my old body back and all, but… you know… I wouldn’t mind enjoying some, ah, extracurricular activities with it until my magic is back to what it used to be.”

Playing along, you ask her what sort of ‘activities’ she was thinking of.

“Oh, you know. The usual.” She rotates her wrist non-committedly. “Sports. Exercise. Cardio. Lots of cardio. The kind that you do with a partner.”

[pc.isBimbo|You don’t know what ‘cardio’ is, but you’re keeping up with the rest of the innuendos. ]

 

[IraMorti]

Hey B random question about Agni, she has this scene in the Wayfort where she offers to make you breakfast, is it just a one off scene that doesn't lead to anything... it reads like it supposed to have a continuation but is it just just a one off?

 

[valk42]

go to the kitchens and enjoy flame grilled meat off of her body

 

[IraMorti]

go to the kitchens and enjoy flame grilled meat off of her body

Are you being serious? I tried waiting on the kitchen tile before it's the one below the barracks tile, do you need to wait a certain amount of time?

 

[valk42]

i am being for real, i don't remember the exact time window but show up during it via moving back and forth and it fires

 

[B]

It's been a minute and life had me distracted, but I updated Astraea with 33,000 words, more than doubling the document's size! All the sex scenes, PLUS extra content - Astraea has a friend that likes to watch, and you can choose to invite her.

This completes her content! Astraea is finally finished. You can read her entire document on my Patreon for a fiver! I'd post a link but my post usually gets flagged for spam if I do - you know where to find it, surely.

The question goes in one ear and out the other. You’re a little too focused on Astraea’s body – the muscles, the curves, the cock the size of your arm. Even at rest, her body looks like it’s wound up tight, ready to spring in any direction. A cock like that could push itself into anything. You could think of one or two places it could fit…

[ast.idona|Somewhere off to the side, you hear a light, girlish giggling. ]“[ast.bq2|Sure thing|As you wish],” Astraea hums. You didn’t realize you said anything. That last thought was just supposed to be just that, a thought. Did you say that out loud? What <b>did</b> you say?

Despite your cock-shock, though, you’re not exactly complaining or resisting when it comes to whatever it is that Astraea has in mind for you. Her hands come down on both of your shoulders, and she, surprisingly gently, pivots you both, so that you’re standing where she stood and vice-versa, with your back to her bed, width-wise. “Turn around, now,” she says; her tone is soft and gentle, almost motherly, as if she was about to put you to bed rather than… whatever it is she’s about to do.

After you do, she steps into your personal space, and you feel her massive arms and hands gently come down onto your sides, her fingers tickling at the edges of your ribs and tracing them down your love handles. She presses her hips forward, and you feel the searing heat of her bloated shaft digging into the crevice of your [pc.ass]. [ast.sizes|After the size-comparison competition, it’s hard and throbbing, ready to go – but she doesn’t get straight to the good part. No. There’s <b>finesse</b> to do first.|It’s upright, but it’s not erect, which is hard to believe. Something that big and thick, and it’s <b>not</b> hard?]

“Sssshit,” she hisses, slamming her hips one final time against yours. Her weight settles, trapping your head between the now-sweat-slick valley of her tits. Her already-eye-watering cock gets even bigger, thicker, more rotund inside of you as it inflates with rushing fluid – and then, suddenly and forcefully, you feel [pc.vagAss|a hot, thick gush of sticky, thick fluid surging into your pussy. With how deep she is, and how much cum there very suddenly is, you’re full to overflowing by the first rope.

Astraea continues to thrust, but in smaller, shallower strides; more as aftershocks, or bodily reactions, than conscious movements. Her cum continues to gush into you with every little lurch, replacing every bit that spurts from your poor, stretched [pc.vagina] with a new, hot, fresh batch, ensuring that you’re always full to capacity. It trickles down the inside of your thighs[pc.hasBalls| and over the swell of your own [pc.balls]] before sinking onto the bed beneath you. You don’t remember offhand if Astraea mentioned that she’s viable, but if she is, you’re absolutely knocked up with triplets after this.|a wet warmth bloom inside of your gut. And there’s a lot of it: you feel your stomach filling up, despite not swallowing anything. With every pulse of her cock in your ass, there’s another surge of warmth, another pound of liquid, and your stomach gets a bit heavier and rounder purely from the quantity.

Astraea continues to thrust, but in smaller, shallower strides; more as aftershocks, or bodily reactions, than conscious movements. She’s so deep, and you’re so receptive, that your body takes it all, without a drop to spill from the union of your [pc.ass] and her cock. With her on your back, pressing you into her bed, the mounting pressure would be uncomfortable if you weren’t so delirious from the pleasure. You swallow, your brain only half-processing why, and you taste something tart and salty on your breath when you exhale. Another thrust, another pulse, another gush…]

She lowers herself gently, folding her arms so that her upper body is down, careful not to press her stomach against your back[pc.vagAss||, something you’re thankful for – you don’t need more pressure on your stomach already]. Her breathing is hoarse and dry, but the longer she takes to calm herself, the more it starts to even.[ast.idona|

With you being pressed into the mattress like this, there’s nothing else you can do but try to get some bearing of self and your surroundings. Idona is sitting in the chair still, but she’s not in a much better state than you are: her mouth is slack and her eyes have rolled upward, and possibly crossed, underneath half-lowered eyelids. Her hand has stilled, and her legs have spread slightly, giving you a somewhat-unobstructed look between them and the dark, damp spot she’s made on her own clothes. Knowing that she likes to watch, you wonder if she’s had as much fun as you have.]

“How a-are you feeling?” [ast.idona|Astraea|she] asks you.

[silly|“Haimmaggabahbgah,” you respond profoundly.|Although there are words in your head that you mean to say, your mouth instead hangs open and loose. Whatever noise that comes out is its own message, not yours.]

She lets out a self-satisfied snort through her nose as she settles. “Let’s take a few minutes,” she says.

Thankfully, you don’t need to answer that one.

“Allow me to skip to the end, [pc.name],” Idona says. She reaches forward, and her fingers hook into [pc.heightRange 0 60|the collar of your [pc.upperGarment]|the waistline of your [pc.lowerGarment]]. She gives you a gentle yank, edging you closer to them both. It’s a <b>very</b> forward gesture, but her grip is light; you could pull away easily. “Quite frankly, you’re all Astraea ever talks about. She won’t shut up about how you saved Elexis, how you addressed a threat meant for Nareva’s magehunters like Matiha. Which are accolades to be sung about by bards, for sure. But she also goes on and on about your skills as a lover.”

[pc.isDK|Hell yeah, she does. You’re the best mother fucker in the city. It’s only a matter of time before Idona says she wants some of you, too.|Now it’s your turn to feel the color rise in your cheeks. This city full of book-smart nerds is way more sexually liberal than you’d have guessed.]

“I want to watch,” she announces suddenly.

… That’s not quite what you were expecting.

“What? I like watching.”

 

[Nino]

It's been a minute and life had me distracted, but I updated Astraea with 33,000 words, more than doubling the document's size! All the sex scenes, PLUS extra content - Astraea has a friend that likes to watch, and you can choose to invite her.

This completes her content! Astraea is finally finished. You can read her entire document on my Patreon for a fiver! I'd post a link but my post usually gets flagged for spam if I do - you know where to find it, surely.

Yo big congrats on that! This is the perfect time to ask, will she get another bust to show off successful magic rehabilitation? Would love to see the life return to her body

 

[B]

I was hoping to give Astraea a where-are-they-now segment when the game ends, that has her in her true form: successfully rehabilitated, with her magic fully back under her own control. Which is to say, there are currently no plans for her true form bust at this time, since the end of the game is a ways off. (For the record, I sort of pictured her as a red-headed Velma)

I am, however, hoping to have Moira do a bust of Astraea in her civilian clothes - basically, the clothes that she has now, except she's wearing a too-small top that gives gratuitous abdominals and underboob.

 

[B]

Time to unveil my next project: turning Oma into a proper dragon! One that lives in a mountain, has a hoard of gold, breathes fire, the works! Of course, me being me, you can fuck her. You can choose her name and her sex.

Public doc: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1y94_xm6h-IaALDTHDcLjR0z3bIjqs3Bhj26TKPssbZE/edit?pli=1&tab=t.0

As of this writing, there is no difference between the public doc and the Patreon doc. But, naturally, all updates will be on my Patreon here: https://patreon.com/TheLetterB
If you don't want to subscribe for $5 a month, you can purchase permanent access to the doc one-time for $7.50!

“You know,” she muses, scratching at her chin as her eyes wander playfully. “Some of my previous masters had particularly wild imaginations when it came to their wishes.”

Like?

“You often had the usual, blustery types that wished for something fantastical. Reality-warping powers. Imbuing the mundane with the fantastic. Infinite life; unlimited wealth; {player wished for Immortality or Wealth|not to suggest you lacked imagination, of course|you know, the usual trappings for mortals given the opportunity for anything they could dream of].” Her eyes don’t meet yours as she speaks. “But some of them would take the opportunity to <b>experience</b> something. Something they could never, ever have otherwise.”

… Like?

“Well, some,” she says as her eyes finally meet yours. While bright enough for you to see the twinkle of [dayNight|the sun|the night sky’s stars] in them, you also see, unmistakably, something mischievous and deviant. Something knowing. “Some would ask for the comfort of a woman’s touch. And I’d give it, albeit I was…” She pauses, then, her left hand scratches at her neck, pulling at something invisible. The golden collar that she had, up until recently, worn for whole lifetimes. “Bound by the lamp to accede. I took no real pleasure or entertainment in granting wishes like those.”

“But still others,” she’d continue, “would wish for something a bit more exotic. You might be surprised by how… exploratory people get when human[pc.ra human||-like] inhibitions no longer apply.”

Her eyes narrow. “To put it plainly, they wish to know what it’s like to lay with a wolf. A horse. An anaconda. People’s inhibitions no longer apply when the wolf before them is, in fact, a person; something capable of thinking like them.”

You find yourself deep inside a hollowed-out mountain.

Above you, a hole in the mountain’s surface has been worn through, allowing sunlight to stream in from the outside. The hole is a little too smooth and circular to be completely natural. It’s many, many feet above you, with no rock wall or column for you to climb to reach it. There are no other entrances into, or exits out of, the cave. You might have fallen in from the hole, but it’s easily forty, maybe fifty feet straight up, and yet, you’ve sustained no injury.

The cave’s walls have been similarly worn smooth from something other than time and the elements, to the point of being nearly glossy. The air is hot and humid; it rushes occasionally through the single room, but the wind is neither cool nor refreshing, and the air merely circulates itself in the cave rather than rush out and be replaced with cleaner, fresher outdoor air. The floor has been not only stamped smooth, but swept clean – at least, the parts of the stone floor that are visible. The cave is many, many lengths wide and long, and nearly all of it is submerged in a rolling layer of gold.

But not gold coins. Not in fabrics wreathed in gold; not in kitchenware plated with gold; not with decorative suits and armor of gold; not even with gold bars. You bend down and extend your hand, running your fingers through with appears to be gold chips – gold that had been filed down finer than nuggets, more akin to gravel. You scoop a handful of the stuff straight from the ground, letting the chips bounce along your open palm. Some are rounded and stumpy; some are more jagged and sharp. All of them have had some layer of polish applied, though some of them are due for another washing.

You look down into the divot of gold you had just dug out, and spot something discolored among the glittering pieces. Bronze, thick, with a rougher texture, but you can’t quite make out what it is. You dig some more, pushing the gold nuggets aside, cleaning the bronze thing of the mess. Whatever it is, it’s about the size of your chest. You tap at it with your knuckles. It’s solid like stone and warm to the touch, but it has a very different, granular texture to the walls around you.

The room grumbles. The gold mountain beneath your feet shifts, causing loose pebbles of gold to tumble and timber out of place, cascading like raindrops off the side of the building. The hot, stale air suddenly whooshes around you, billowing [pc.hasHair|through your hair|across your scalp] and around your effects.

You look down. The bronze thing flexes, with one edge bunching up against itself like folds of fat. It slides in one direction suddenly, and, beneath the bronze, there’s a single, silvery eye. Its dilated, unfocused pupil scans the cave’s ceiling before it spots you, and it narrows.

Okay, so, [oma.heShe] is clearly not all that happy about having some stranger inside [oma.hisHer] cave. But[pc.isBimbo|, in a rare flash of not-stupid-having], you counter that, if you were here to steal [oma.hisHer] gold… how are you meant to escape? You left yourself no rope or ladder from the hole in the ceiling[pc.hasWings|, and your [pc.wings] wouldn’t be able to generate enough lift for yourself <b>and</b> enough gold to have made the risk worth it].

[oma.name] remains in place, [oma.hisHer] eyes narrowed on you, studying your body for any flinch, any crack in your expression that might give [oma.himHer] a tell. You don’t give [oma.himHer] one. <i>Inarguable points</i>, [oma.heShe] admits.

[oma.HeShe] leans backward, rising [oma.hisHer] neck to its full length as [oma.heShe] studies [oma.hisHer] hoard from the higher vantage point. <i>You stand within the hollowed out vein of golden ore, [pc.race] [pc.name]. Every fleck you see</i> – [oma.heShe] pauses, racking [oma.hisHer] right-front leg across the surface of the gold pile, letting every stone [oma.hisHer] claws dig through bunch up against [oma.hisHer] claws as [oma.heShe] strokes a gouge through it – <i>I had personally excavated. Separated from the chaff.</i> [oma.HisHer] nostrils flare once more, but this time, it’s not steam erupting from [oma.hisHer] nose, but smoke. Clearly, [oma.heShe] knew where to get the heat to smelt the ore. <i>And added to my collection. Every. Fleck.</i>

The air hangs heavy with that exclamation. [oma.name] maintains [oma.hisHer] imperialist stance, making it clear, purely through [oma.hisHer] [silly|aura|posture] and in no uncertain terms, who here has all of the power. <i>If, after our meeting is adjourned, that even one is missing, there is no corner of this earth that a [pc.race] named [pc.name] could escape me.</i>

You gulp.