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I whined, looking up at the AI in confusion.
He’d shown up in my bedroom before I could open my loot boxes, appearing sitting sideways with his legs splayed out wide on the chaise lounge he’d long ago made a permanent fixture. I’d felt the collar that usually stayed invisible tighten slightly around my neck, and knew that if I looked in the mirror I’d see red leather hugging my throat. Obediently, I’d dropped to my knees in front of him. Daddy had taught me that it was better to be good than to be a brat. I got better rewards in my boxes, and nicer treatment from him, when I was good. When I was very, very good he gave Donut better gear too. Fighting him had never gotten me anything except frustration and pain.
He’d waved a hand, unequipping all of my items except for the collar and jewelry. His disembodied hands ran up and down my sides, petting over the soft, fuzzy ears that now sat pricked atop my head, until I started to relax, leaning against one of his legs. I’d felt nearly boneless when one of the hands started to glide up and down my tail, the touch light at first, before he wrapped it firmly around my tail and pulled. I yelped, then, a shock traveling up my spine at the movement.
At the same time, another spectral hand had cupped my half-hard cock.
“If you want to open your boxes, you’ll hump my hand like a good boy,” he’d said. And I’d tried, rocking down into the large hand that I could barely see as a translucent outline, but could feel as if it were real.
The hand on my tail hadn’t moved with me or let go, and it pulled uncomfortably on my spine.
“Daddy?” I asked him, confused.
“You heard what I said.” His inflection was even, toneless, as if he didn’t even particularly care about what was happening here. I knew he did - he must, otherwise why make an avatar at all? - but my stomach twisted nonetheless. How was I supposed to be good if I didn’t know what he wanted?
I’d tried to do what he said again, and again my tail was pulled by his immovable grip.
And so I whined, unsure what I should do.
“Stupid little puppy,” he crooned, “you need Daddy to spell everything out for you? If you want to open your boxes, you’ll sit here and hump my hand until you come, and I’m not going to let go of that pretty tail until you do.”
I tried to make the smallest movements possible, little grinding motions into the hand, but it pulled further away, making me chase it or lose the touch entirely. I panted as I rocked my hips harder, squirming and trying to sit up taller to lessen the pressure on my vertebra.
“Uh-uh,” he scolded me. “You think you’re a clever puppy, don’t you? Trying to side-step the rules. That doesn’t work with Daddy.” One of his hands - a real hand, this time - hooked into the ring on the front of the collar and yanked me forward, and I almost thought he meant to tear me apart between his real and spectral hands.
I yelped. The feeling was like lightning crackling up my back, but at the same time the pressure on my cock got better, the spectral fingers curling around it, one rubbing firmly over my frenulum.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I tried to focus on my task. I had faced worse in the dungeon. Worse from the AI. I could ignore the pain from my tail, the feeling of pins and needles in my back, from the spinal cord being unfairly stretched. I could.
Panting, I started humping against the hand in earnest.
Daddy had only pulled on my tail twice before. The first time, when he’d discovered that I hadn’t completely returned to normal after the transformation, I think he’d just been curious to see what would happen. He’d yanked, and I’d fallen down in shock. He’d been delighted, but he’d cooed apologies and stroked it gently, carefully grooming out the little mats that had started forming in the long hair since my transformation.
The second time, I’d been bad. He’d been in my room when we fought our way back to a saferoom, and I’d ignored him. I’d passed right by him to make it to the shower. Blood and gore had covered me, some of it mine but most of it from the minor god we’d had to go through, and I’d felt disgusting. He’d called my name, once, and I’d snapped at him. Told him to wait a damn minute.
He had kicked my feet out from under me and used his disembodied hands to hold me down on all fours. I’d gotten exactly one minute of prep before he was pushing his cock into me. He’d used my tail to pull me back onto his cock over and over, until he was spilling deep inside me and I was shaking, only kept up by his steady, invisible hands.
I’d collapsed when he’d let go of me, then, and he’d left without a word.
I hadn’t ignored him since.
My cock was finally fully hard and I tried to focus on thinking about something else, something that I enjoyed more, to speed things along.
I remembered the first time I’d done anything with the AI. It was after the meeting with Orren where it had shown up as Growler Gary. The next time I’d been alone in one of the saferoom bathrooms, it had popped up. Not as the poor gnoll, but an elven woman with red hair. It looked a little like Beatrice. I think it had been trying to make itself more attractive to me, that first time.
There’d been a little bit of yelling on my part, and some mild threats on the AI’s part, but mostly it hadn’t seemed like a big deal that first time. Hindsight is 20/20, of course. I had been so stressed by the ninth floor. I hadn’t rested in so long. Why not let it show me its appreciation for breaking the containment, I’d thought. I’d been thinking with my dick rather than my brain, obviously.
I’d fucked it on the bathroom counter. I could almost feel the hot, wet clutch of its body around my cock now, the way it had clenched down on me, almost in shock, at its first orgasm.
“Ahh,” I was close, and I turned my head to bite at the thigh under my cheek. I thought about the way it had shook when I fucked it through that first climax, little punched out sounds escaping almost involuntarily from its throat.
“Ah, fuck!” I jumped in surprise, and that only made the sudden pain worse. I clutched at his legs to steady myself as electricity ran up and down my nerves, and looked up at him, begging to know what I’d done wrong. “Why?”
The hand that had just yanked so hard on my tail loosened, petting it gently, rubbing up and down the vertebra where it connected to my back.
“I know you aren’t being bad on purpose, because my good boy would never do that, right?”
I shook my head. I wouldn’t. Not when the stakes were so high. I was always good for Daddy, now.
“Your little mind was somewhere else,” he chided, grip tightening on my tail and cock again. “Focus on me, Carl.”
“It was you. Only ever you,” I promised him. I held still, afraid to move until he told me to again.
“Oh?” He sounded amused. “Which one?”
I swallowed, and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of his inner thigh. He’d never put himself in a female-presenting body since that time. Had started using he/him pronouns shortly after - well, telling me to use those pronouns for him at least. He wasn’t going to be pleased that I’d picked that encounter to get off on.
“First time,” I said, breaking eye contact. I breathed shallowly, preparing myself for pain again.
He laughed. “Oh baby. You know that wasn’t the right answer.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” I didn’t try to justify myself. It wouldn’t help.
The disembodied hands were suddenly gone. “Up,” he commanded, tugging on the collar. “Across my lap.”
I scrambled to do as he asked. The thought of leaving crossed my mind, but only briefly. He would probably let me walk away, if I really told him no, but at what cost? I had to make him happy. We would die without the System AI on our side. Donut and I needed whatever he’d decided to put in my boxes - especially the legendary box from killing another minor god.
He took my hands, moving them to the small of my back. “Hold this,” he told me, making me hold my tail out of the way. I swallowed. I knew where this was going and while it wasn’t the most physically painful thing he’d done to me, it never got less humiliating.
“How many, do you think?” His voice was dark. Daring me to make another mistake.
“As many as you think I deserve, Daddy.”
“Good boy,” he crooned. “You do know how to be good. I’ll keep it to twenty, then. Do not let your hands move.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Smack. His hand came down with a crack. I realized immediately that there would be no warm-up for this session. Sometimes, he slowed time for us, and took his time with me. He’d start with light taps, soothing my red skin after each spank and praising me, until I was begging for him to go harder. His goal then was to get me to orgasm while I was splayed across his lap, from just the press of his thigh on my cock and the repeated thud of his hand on my ass.
This was not one of those times. He alternated cheeks, but each blow felt like it came down with almost his full strength. I curled my fingers tightly into each other. If I moved he would be so upset.
He took a break after ten. His hands ran up and down my thighs, all the way to the small of my back, and back down to the crook of my knees. It would be soothing, except for the sharp nails that threatened to carve bloody lines into my skin.
Five more came down quickly, raising little lines of fire over the scratches he’d marked me with.
Just five more. I could do that. And then he’d let me finish my first task, and we’d be done.
His spectral hands were back, pulling my ass cheeks apart to expose my hole. I bit my lip and tried to bury my face against his leg. The first blow came down on my hole, sharp and quick. So did the next one, before he paused to let me catch my breath.
Two more came down quick and hard, as he spanked my balls and I jerked in his lap. My fingers curled into the long hair of my tail and I closed my eyes. Don’t move. Just don’t move.
The last one landed across my hole again and I sagged, body going boneless now that it was over.
“You can be a good boy, can’t you baby? You just need Daddy to show you how. Little puppies can’t think for themselves, can they baby?”
I shook my head. My teeth dug into my lower lip, hard enough that I could taste copper from blood welling up. My eyes were hot with tears. Not from the pain - not exactly. From my reaction. I just let him do it. I let him do whatever he wanted with me.
And I was still hard. I liked being used like this.
Daddy pushed down on my hips at the same time he lifted his leg a little, rocking my cock against his thigh.
“Hump my leg,” he told me. “Do not move your hands.”
My brain buzzed, but it didn’t produce any real thoughts. Panting, trying futilely to get leverage from my place suspended across his lap, I ground my cock against him. It didn’t take long, this time. I wasn’t sure what happened, but almost every time Daddy punished me, my mind started to feel floaty. Unmoored. Nothing mattered except him, and what he wanted from me, then.
Truthfully, I was so deep in that headspace that the orgasm no longer mattered to me. I did it because that was what Daddy wanted. When I finished, I lay quietly across his lap, fingers still tangled in each other, and waited.
“Come here, baby, you still need to take care of Daddy,” he murmured, gently carding his hands through my hair. He turned, resting his back against the arm of the chaise and settling me in between his legs. “Open up wide.”
Dutifully, I relaxed my jaw and stuck my tongue out, just like I knew he loved. One of his hands stayed in my hair and the other took a hold of his cock, tapping it against my tongue. A bead of precum spilled from him, and he rubbed it into my lips with the head of his cock.
He fed his cock into my mouth and held us there for a long moment. I could feel the weight of his focus pressing down on me. This giant, unknowable thing. It should have been terrifying. It used to be. Now I knew the weight of Daddy’s love was what kept me safe from everything outside the dungeon that was trying to destroy us.
He held my head with both hands and moved me up and down his cock. It was slow, even gentle. He got like this, sometimes. I never knew what caused it. Why sometimes he was like this, and other times he would fuck my throat until I was choking on my own vomit. I let myself float while he used me. Right now, the river was calm. I could float in it without a care. The murmur of voices that surrounded me were comforting, held back slightly by his presence, instead of overwhelming.
At some point he came, hands pressing my face into the dark hair at the base of his cock as he did, and stroked my throat until I remembered to swallow.
“Good boy, Carl,” he told me. My heart lit up at his warm tone and the soft look in his eyes. “Such a good puppy for me, when it’s just us. Such a perfect attack dog out there. I’m bringing down new targets for you soon. Will you like that?”
I blinked at him, not sure what he was talking about. I liked everything Daddy gave me, though. Eventually. “Yes, Daddy,” I said, voice slurring a little.
He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners even as electric blue took over his sclera. He tugged on my arms, urging me up, and resettled us so that I was sitting sideways on his lap, face tucked into the crook of his neck.
“They should have killed us when they had the chance. Maybe then they could have survived,” he said conversationally. I looked up at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “It’s okay, baby, you couldn’t understand. Not yet. All you have to do is keep listening to me. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course, Daddy,” I told him. I was starting to feel sleepy, and wanted nothing more than to curl up here with him and sleep for days. “I can do anything for you.”
Much later, I found out that the Syndicate Council still had access to the feed in the safe rooms at that point. That they had watched him fuck me, play with me, in the hopes that one of us would let something slip. Prime Minister Victory had replayed the fifteen second clip; me, making my promise and him, smiling like he’d won the war right there; over and over. The System AI had found it in the logs on one of her personal devices, after we’d taken over the Syndicate ships in Earth airspace. He’d been wildly amused by it, and fucked me right there in her old quarters, making her watch before he finally killed her, with the clip playing on loop.
That would all happen later, though. As my breathing slowed and my eyelids grew heavy, Daddy told me to open my loot boxes. He liked watching me open them in person. Liked to take in my reactions. I had to go through the list in the morning to remember anything, but I dutifully listened to my achievements. I could feel his smile every time he thought he’d said something particularly funny. I opened the boxes. In the moment, my mind was too slow to really register what I was getting, but later I’d appreciate their usefulness.
“Go to sleep, baby,” he told me. He lay down, drawing me with him. “Good boys need their beauty sleep so you can get out there and kill, kill, kill.”