Jane flicked through page after page on his tablet, looking for answers. VR had been around for decades, but Immersive VR, the kind that required the neural uplink, was relatively new. Plenty of tests had been done to assure regulators and the public that it was safe to use. The only deaths were because of overstimulation and physical neglect, the kinds of things that the cutoff safeties were supposed to prevent. Companies didn’t want people dying in their product after all; it looked bad in the news.

Diving deeper into the research, or at least the blogs on the research that he could understand, he found some promising leads. There were a few documented cases where someone’s physical or mental state would transfer between the virtual reality and the real world. The papers called this effect ‘Bleedthrough’.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he muttered to himself, taking a big pull from his energy drink. Time had lost meaning. He had no idea how long he’d been staring at the screen.

“You find something?” Skari asked. She looked gorgeous as ever. Raven black hair that spilled down to her muscular shoulders, her lean and trim body looking quite fetching despite her wearing a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt with a video game logo. A strange look for her, given her usual attire.

He showed the tablet to the sorceress. “It says here that they found cases where people could be affected by what happened in the game. Feeling like they should be taller like their game character, or believing they knew how to fight because their avatar knew how. A kind of lingering not-rightness…like phantom limb syndrome.”

“Ah yes. A sense that your body is not quite right. There’s a word for that, you know.” There was a poisonous edge to her words, and he didn’t rush to request clarification.

“Anyways, at least there’s precedent for what I’m experiencing. And it’s a list of symptoms I need to be wary of in the future.” He reached for the can of energy drink and took another long gulp. The metal in his hand didn’t feel right. It had become warm, slippery. He looked over. It was a cock. It was her cock. Its throbbing, glistening head looked perfect. Delicious.

“Well?” she asked, looking down at him. Sitting in his chair, he was at the perfect height to just lean over and…

He opened his mouth and let her inside. He hadn’t sucked off a woman before. Or had he? His head was so fuzzy, nothing was right. Except the dick in his mouth. That was where it belonged. He placed his hands on her tight buttcheeks to keep himself steady and let her take the lead, pushing herself deeper into his mouth. She tasted like salt and musk, and he let his tongue drag along her underside to take in every inch of her length. While she pistoned back and forth with a leisurely ease, she picked up the tablet from his hand and continued to read.

“It does seem like you’re experiencing symptoms of this Bleedthrough effect,” she agreed, her breath catching for a moment when he licked a particularly sensitive part of her tip, “But overuse of anything for long periods can cause negative effects. It might be best to reduce your time spent inside the machine. I and the others in the Planet of Perils will be there when you wish to return. I think we work well together, y’know?”

Jane nodded, though stopped when he realized that meant he wasn’t pleasuring the cock in his mouth properly. As way of apology, he cradled Skari’s sack with his hands, gently teasing them and massaging the orbs to induce production of his imminent reward. She increased pace, humping herself into his open mouth and using him for her own gratification. Precum spilled freely down his throat, lubricating it further. The sorceress’s shaft twitched, and he could feel her clench back.

“I’m close,” she said breathily, “Where do you want it?”

Without thinking, he pointed at his face. Getting covered in her thick cream sounded absolutely wonderful to him. For some reason, cum was on his mind. Her cum? His? His mind was so cluttered, it was hard to get the thoughts right. Thankfully, Skari could take the lead on this one. She pulled herself back and, with quick and efficient strokes, finished herself off.

“Here you go, slut,” she said, then groaned with wild abandon as the first jets of sorceress spunk pattered against his forehead. The second shot glued his right eye shut, while the third covered his cheek on the opposite side. He grinned with facile glee as the last few weak spurts landed against his lips, allowing him to lick up the rest. Jane opened his mouth obediently to clean off any leftovers on her cock, making it gleam with his saliva.

“Mmm…thank you~” he said, the world melting around them.

She cupped his cum-covered face in her hand, lifting it to meet her gaze. “See? I told you we work well together. Now go on, Jane. I’ll see you soon.”

***

A harsh, cacophonous wailing snapped him up to a standing position, catching his feet from under him, then sending himself and the chair he’d been sitting in tumbling to the ground. He landed in a heap of limbs and plastic, mind still two steps behind what was happening. Awareness flooded in. He’d been sleeping at his desk. An alarm had gone off. Alarm? What alarm? Wasn’t it the weekend still?

He crawled like a wounded soldier, pain from the fall still smarting, over to where his phone rested in its charging cradle. The alarm had been the one he set for the start of his working week. It was not the weekend, and he was about half an hour late!

“Fuck!” He scrambled to get dressed, looking all the worse for wear in the process. If he hurried, he might still have a job at the end of the day.

***

He’d hauled ass to work after a quick text to Chris to cover for him. No reply. He hissed out some choice curses, muffled by the general background noise of the packed bus. Every turn he leaned into, trying not to press against the other wage slaves. Something about his skin was strangely sensitive, and a woman who reached over to hold onto the same handle and brushed against his hand made him shiver. He blushed, hiding his face. Maybe he was worrying too much. Nervous system feedback, maybe. That Bleedthrough effect he read about.

Probably.

He sprinted off the bus at his stop, approaching the monolithic warehouse structure that loomed over the security gate. Skari’s Sanctum had nothing on its intimidating presence. There were no driders guarding it, however. Just some security cameras, the badge scanners at the doors, and a single quadcopter. Any one of these could catch him being late, but Jane had a plan. It wasn’t the first time he played off arriving late like he’d been off in the back fetching something. As a long time employee, he knew the ways to sneak into the building without being noticed. In through the back gate (which had a hole in the chainlink you could shimmy through), hang a left at the old gas pumps, up through the shipping dock that was always open this time of year to let fresh air in. Then it’s just through the south end of the building…

He’d crossed the threshold of the warehouse before he noticed something amiss: no people. The building was largely automated, true, but there was always *some* staff about. He’d noticed nobody. Besides the drones, there was no motion in the yard. And there was no human movement at all in the warehouse itself. Several stocking drones stood still, their forks half-thrust into palettes or stopped in the middle of one of the cramped logistics corridors. Something was wrong. Deathly wrong.

He emerged from the southern stacks and heard a muffled voice coming from the centre of the room. Making his way over the dead conveyors, the voice grew louder…and more familiar.

“...this facility’s record. And I’m not going to let that continue. Our corporation is a family, of course, but sometimes strict measures must be taken to keep things running smoothly.”

Jane ground to a halt. He knew that voice. It haunted every team update, every mandatory meeting over their proprietary conference app.

Regional Manager Penelope Alfredo commanded the room, where all the human employees of the facility were arrayed in a loose arc around her. Every motion was straight out of a textbook on effective public speaking, every intonation of her voice practiced and rehearsed. At first she had her back to Jane, but as his coworkers noticed him emerging from the back, their attention drew hers.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Jane thought about diving behind the nearest forkbot. Then, realising that would make him look even more guilty, he resigned himself to a faint wave and a quick shuffle over to the tail end of the gathered staff.

“As I was saying: to ensure the smooth operation of this facility, I will personally be inspecting this installation and its functions for corporate. This will include individual assessments of personnel. In the next week I will bring you aside to discuss your present and future employment. For most this will be just a formality. For some,” Her eyes fell on Jane for a beat longer than necessary before she continued, “This may mean corrective measures may need to be taken. Additional training, shifting of responsibilities or, at the extreme end, termination.”

The meeting went on for another few minutes, but Jane was already checked out. Scenarios born out of anxiety ran through his head as she went on and on about whatever corporate platitudes they had sent her to deliver. Mercifully, she wrapped it up and told them to get back to work. The many drones in the factory lurched to life as soon as the vast majority of their sightlines were clear. Jane had almost made a similar escape when-

“Jane,” Penelope said in a stern tone, “May I talk with you for a minute?”

It wasn’t a request. He sagged his shoulders and made his way over, slowly, receiving a few sympathetic glance from his coworkers. Nobody wanted to be the one in this position.

***

The door to the manager’s office slammed shut. It looked like Penelope had taken over the room, his actual boss’ things nowhere to be seen. Had he been fired? Jane wanted to ask, but sensed that it wasn’t the time for it.

The Regional Manager slid around the back of the large wooden desk, its surface bare save a single black tablet. No photos, no decoration, not even one of those novelty kinetic ball clacker things. She picked up the tab and scrolled through with lazy flicks of a finger. When she offered him a seat, he looked around for one and found that she was sitting in the only chair in the room.

“Oh, that’s right,” she said, touching her forehead. “I had the extra chairs removed. I’m sure I can have them brought back in if you would like.”

Jane did all he could to suppress a scowl. Power Plays with seating, he thought, really? The fuck was this, a medieval banquet hall?

“I’ll stand.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll be brief, so you can get to starting your shift.” She placed her emphasis on the word ‘starting’ for a reason, he thought bitterly. “As a part of my auditing of this facility and its operations, I’ve been tasked with finding weak points. Areas that might get overlooked, but can prove disastrous to productivity in the long run.”

A long pause followed as he waited to see if she was going to continue. But she didn’t. She sat stock still, unblinking, using awkwardness like a Spanish Inquisitor might use a pair of heated tongs.

“I’m not normally late like this. I was dead tired and slept right through my alarms. It won’t happen again.”

She continued her silence, but at least returned to blinking. She picked the tab back and scrolled further down the screen.

“You’ve been an employee here for three years, seven months. Only a few notes on here, most of them positive. I don’t see a reason I should recommend letting you go. I believe you have a lot to offer in your current position.” She leaned forward. “But let me be clear: this is not a social engagement. From now on, your productivity and punctuality will be under a microscope. Any more unprofessional behaviour and I will certainly reexamine my position.”

“I would like to reexamine her position,” said a voice from within his head, “She’d look good on her knees.”

His eyes bugged. It was the voice! The voice that had told him to…well, he’d heard the voice before at least. But what was it? Was he finally snapping?

“Is there something wrong?” Penelope asked. Quashing the powerful urge to scan the room for a third party he was pretty sure wouldn’t be there, he instead gave a gentle shake of his head. She seemed to accept that. “At any rate, let this be a first And final warning to you. Lest you forget, you were a participant in our Housing Assistance program. I shouldn’t need to elaborate what happens if you were to lose your employment.”

He swallowed hard. Without the company’s assistance, he’d never be able to afford his apartment. Especially not with his salary. He nodded, though the chill in his blood was moderated by a sudden glowing ember within him. A spark of something threatening to catch.

“Go on,” the voice told him from within, “Tell her how you really feel. Tell her how she can take her empty corporate suit attitude and get fucked. Tell her that you’d love to see her bent over this desk and begging for it.”

The words almost formed in his mouth before he controlled himself. Something was terribly wrong.

“May I return to my shift?” he asked instead.

“Hmm…I suppose. I’ll send a note with your performance review information shortly.”

Not even waiting for her to finish her sentence, he rushed out the door and back onto the second floor walkway that overlooked the vast, labyrinthine delivery warehouse. He gripped the handrailing and focused on the voice he had heard. He poured over every syllable, trying to put a cause to this development. It wasn’t his voice, so it wasn’t some repressed inner monologue. But it wasn’t any other person’s voice either. It was…something else.

He moved through his shift like a zombie, lost in self-interrogation. When his shift ended, he barely noticed, mutely packing up his belongings and shuffling onto the bus home. The voice hadn’t returned. Maybe he’d imagined it, he thought, or another kind of Bleedthrough effect from the VR. 

Jane pushed his door open and stumbled inside. Home. Sweet, sweet home. He didn’t bother to eat, or even undress. He just stumbled into bed, closed his eyes, and awoke nine hours later.

The next ‘morning’, Jane had two options now. He could start job searching, preparing for the likely event that he might get fired. Then he could spend the rest of the day before his shift interrogating why there was a woman’s voice in his head. Maybe even evaluate whether he should be spending so much time in VR if he was getting that kind of bleed into his waking life.

Or.

***

Returning once more to the Planet of Perils, progress around Skari had gone swimmingly. Instead of the dreary, dilapidated tomb, she stood in a stone hall fit for a monarch. Or at least, the bottom half of a stone hall fit for a monarch. The roof was still open, but the walls had crawled up at least twenty feet in most places. It was the length of a cathedral, giving her plenty of room for supplecants and grovelers. The stone of the old Skari’s tower had been recut into its new shape, giving the hall an impressive scale if a somewhat rough appearance. Even now she saw one of the driders she’d ‘hired’ hard at work on a scaffold of spiderwebs, using a block and tackle of the same substance to lift a new chunk into place.

“My Queen!” announced a familiar voice. Calliope Honeydew the architect goblin stepped lively from her drafting desk to her liege’s feet. At some point, she’d taken Skari’s off-hand suggestion to get herself a hardhat. This took the form of an old iron helmet with a splotch of yellow paint, but the effect was nevertheless appreciated. Safety first, after all.

“You’re making significant progress I see,” the overlord said, hands on her hips as she looked up to watch the heavy block slide into place.

“I’m glad you like it, Skari the Magnificent! This will be your throne room, of course, with the throne the last thing we work on. The driders are surprisingly good stonesmiths!”

“Years living in caves will do that,” commented Rakna, who approached from the far end of the hall. She kept her hands clutched behind her back, appearing for all the world like she was the boss.

“Has the relocation concluded?” Skari asked, putting a little more oomph into her voice to make it clear who was really in charge.

The spider woman seemed amused at the power play, but nodded. “Indeed. The last sleds with our belongings should be arriving soon. That raises the question of where we will be quartered.”

“I’m sure we can spare some material for a barrack. Let me just…” Her words trailed off as she brought up the readout for the Sanctum on her HUD.

*Lair Status*

Lair Upgrade in Progress!

Upgrading to: Sanctum of Defilement, Level 1

Estimated Time to Functional State: 3 Hours 15 Minutes, Earth Standard Time

Time worked on a different scale in the game than in the real world, which allowed for a building to be completed in days rather than months or even years. Still, she had a while to go before she could properly lounge in her new Level 1 digs. She read on.

New Room: Throne Room

The centre of your authority, and a measure of your power. Sitting on the throne will bring up customization options not available in the standard menu, as well as allow you access to your domain’s reserves of magical energy.

Expansions Possible:

Barracks: 50 Materials

Workshop: 50 Materials

Smithy: 125 Materials

Vault: 75 Materials

Specialized Expansions Possible:

Drider Den: 75 Materials

Requirements for upgrade to Level 2:

33/150 Materials

14/25 Labourers

3/10 Warriors

0/5 Tradespeople

1/1 Planner

From the readout, it appeared that she did not have the resources for living quarters after all. That was unacceptable! She couldn’t have her workers sprawled out in her hall, doing god knows what to the staff…though the thought of Briggy in a classical maid outfit did have its own appeal. Either way, her workers and warriors would need a place to live and do their…activities, preferably one that was out of sight. That thought caused Skari to recall her conversation with Honeydew just before she’d left, and got an idea.

“Your team works with stone, yes? Perhaps you’d be interested in excavating the grounds underneath the old tower? There’d as like as not to be some rooms down there, if only cellars or dungeons or whathaveyou. If you were to remove the debris and clear it out, I grant you official dibs on the space. Anything you find down there is mine by rights, of course, but you’d at least have a place out of the sun and prying eyes.”

Rakna rubbed her chin for a moment. “Hmm…that does sound like a deal that mostly benefits you, but if you’re willing to let us grow glowcaps and breadmoss down there as well, access to any local groundwater…yes, I could see it being a palatable home. At least for the duration. There is the matter of meat, of course, but-”

“One thing at a time,” Skari said, holding up a hand. “I already got like, 18 different things to juggle here. As soon as you’re done with the Throne Room, you can start work on the excavation. Bring up any materials you think you can build with, as well. Going to need a lot more if this Sanctum is going to become a proper fortress.”

After a few more scattered exchanges on details, the leader of the driders wandered off, her two handmaidens in tow. Mikra was the taller one, who spoke in monosyllabic words and gave a harsh scowl to just about everyone. Lyra was the wider one, and was less outwardly hostile, though she seemed to keep her eyes on Skari at every moment. These three represented the grand sum and total of Skari’s military, as they were the only ones who said no to performing physical labour. Another thing to worry about, she mused, then headed off herself to inspect the grounds.

“Are things looking to your satisfaction?”

Skari jumped. “Fuck, sorry Honeydew. Forgot you were there.”

The little goblin held up her hands. “It’s alright, I know I’m short. But are things to your liking?”

The overlord smiled. “Yes, things are coming along nicely. I was just about to head out to check around the outside of my tower.”

The short woman clapped her hands. “Oh, you’re in for a treat! Carri is doing such a wonderful job!”

***

The outside of the tower was looking a lot less dreary than it had when she’d set out to find the driders. For one, just having upright walls was a big step in the way of making the place feel less like a ruin. For another, there were the first hints of greenery around the edges of the building. Bent down over a tiny clump of leaves was the Elf woman Skari had first seen wrapped around a drider cock back at the cave. Though she was still plumped up, she was at least mobile now. She clambered back to her feet, whispered something arcane, and watched as a shrub grew up from the soil. It blossomed and became covered in fresh leaves like a time-lapsed clip in a nature documentary. When she was through, a bush that would have likely taken years to blossom swayed before her in a gentle breeze.

“Your name is Carri, right?” Skari asked.

The elf nodded, absently rubbing her enormous belly. For some reason, Skari thought that her tummy looked smaller. “Carri’aran Lethrendir. Level 4 Life Mage. But I’ve never heard of you. Are you a new enemy type the AI is testing out?”

Skari’s eyebrows shot up. She was a player too! At first, she thought about lying and going with the idea that she was an NPC. Perhaps that would be a viable tack down the line, when she had an army of goons to stand in between her and other players. But for now, given the level of autonomy on display, it would be a fool’s errand to try to keep the secret.

“I’m also a player. Being an Evil Overlord is the AI’s way of spicing up the game, giving players a true test of their planning and resourcefulness. The name’s…” She paused, momentarily unsure what name to use for herself. After a beat, she settled on the obvious. “Name’s Skari.”

Carri’s look of surprise became a mirror of Skari’s own from moments before. “No way! I had no idea that there were even evil character classes, let alone overlord ones. Wish I had known; I love Turn Based Strategy!” As the elf spoke, a thick glob of cum slid down her thigh. She didn’t seem to notice. 

“Forgive me, I wasn’t really expecting you to be another player. You seemed to be…”

“Like a Lusty Elf Maiden from a bad hentai?” she said with a laugh. “Oh, sure, I’m horny as fuck. But I’m not a ditz, or I don’t think I am. In real life I have a couple degrees and a demanding chem eng job. I use PoP for two reasons: stress relief, and monsterfuckery.”

“Monster…fuckery?”

“Oh c’mon!” The other player gesticulated at the busty drider closest to her. “You can see how hot these sexy spiders are.”

Skari blushed, or at least felt like she was blushing. “They have a certain appeal. Mostly the top halves. But…you log on entirely to get railed by monsters?”

“Well, yeah. That and cum is the perfect source of life mana, which lets me perform my magic.” Her belly rubs became an appreciative pat.

Skari stared at the inflated tummy, imagining just how much cum one would have to retain to make such a large bump. As she marvelled, two pieces of information slotted together in her head like sticky puzzle pieces.

“Life magic you say? Would you be the one who was planting seeds up in the mountains?”

She snapped her fingers into a pair of finger guns. “You got it! It was for a quest I’m doing for the local Druid Coven. I’m basically rep grinding for them to get access to new spells…plus the missions take me to dangerous places to get “captured” by scary monsters.”

“I see,” Skari said, and sort of did. The other player’s goal of just being a fucktoy for various monsters was not the kind of gameplay she would personally chose, but she’d be a hypocrite if she wagged a finger at the prospect of fucking the local monster population. The fact that Carri was a mage, however, made the elf an interesting commodity. “Will you be leaving us, now that my spiderwomen are working on a new project?”

She lit her lower lip, eyes rolling to the side as she thought. “Maybe…I have been thoroughly plowed by driders at this point, might be interested in changing it up a bit.”

“Might I convince you to stick around?” It was a little early into Skari’s overlording career to be enlisting other players into her plans, and she had no intent on trying to keep her captive or anything against her will. But perhaps…

“That depends,” Carri said, folding her arms, “Are you intending on bringing in a panoply of slutty monsters for me to bang?”

“Uhh, maybe?” Skari said, a little embarrassed. She had been accruing some rather saucy assistants lately, but to have the goal spoken aloud made her slightly self-conscious. “I mean, if there’s a non-attractive monster I likely won’t turn them down, if that’s what you’re asking. My goal is to build an empire, and that’ll likely be done on the backs of various creatures I can bend to my will.”

“Is that so? Well, I do like the whole ‘will bending’ thing. Tell ya what: I gotta log for the night. Next couple seshes I’ll hang around the place, maybe work my magic and give you some greenery out here. God only knows you need it. If you don’t conjure up anyone interesting, we’ll go our separate ways. Bring some new monsters around…then hey, maybe we can talk a more permanent alliance thingy. Fair?”

Skari nodded. “More than. Talk to you soon?”

“Hopefully.” With a wink, the cum-bloated elf blipped out of existence, leaving a tiny puddle of jizz in her wake. She was a strange one, Skari thought to herself, but she certainly embraced what she loved. That was admirable in its own way. With nothing she thought she could do before the Lair finished, she logged off, became Jane again, and got some food and water into her while she waited for the build time to elapse.

***

Jane stared at his hands. One was wrapped around an Italian deli-meat special sandwich with the tangy mustard he liked. The other idly fondled himself, lost in lazy circles around his own dick. The problem was that he didn’t remember making the sandwich, nor did he remember unzipping his pants and getting to half mast watching…what?

He realized he was sitting at his computer, the 2D monitor he kept for side hustle projects opened to about a dozen tabs of porn. Hardcore monsterfucking porn, the likes of which his browser history had never seen. On screen at the moment was an elf, not unlike Carri in appearance, getting pumped to the brim with thick orc cum. He blinked. The memories of his actions came to him, but he couldn’t recall making the decisions. It was like he’d been on autopilot and only now returned to manual control.

While finishing the sandwich, he closed the tabs one by one. Some were pretty wild, but he ended up bookmarking a few for future ‘perusal’. He snorted, trying his best to play it off casually. Maybe he was more tired than he thought.

*Ding!*

The alarm he’d set for when the throne room finished had gone off. He hesitated for a moment, hand hovering over the neural jack. Maybe he was spending too much time in the game…

***

Reentering the world, Skari found herself back in the large stone room that she’d left. It was now enclosed, however, rough cut blocks placed as a ceiling. Large braziers burned around huge support pillars to give the rooms its illumination. The walls were bare, for now, but complete. Empty doorways led off to the outside, but there was plenty of room for expanding outward. Arranged in two parallel lines next to the pillars, the driders stood with hand over breast in their version of a salute. Briggy and Honeydew also gave their respects, but a little less formally. The goblin doffed her helmet, and the Brider…well, Briggy said the word “yippie!”

“Overlord Skari Suneater,” Rakna pronounced, trying to reassert a suitable level of gravitas, “May I present to you: your throne.”

While the room itself was functional, the throne had more time and attention paid to it. The stone was a different colour to the rest of the construction, reminding Skari of the slate colour of the drider cave than the ruins the rest had been cut from. It had a curved shape, with a backrest that looked like four large stone digits stretched out until they resembled a grasping claw, both armrests being “thumbs” giving the whole thing an eerily uncomfortable appearance. There was something *wrong* about the throne, and that meant it was perfect.

She ran her fingers along the smooth stone, which they’d carved with unsettling Gigerian curves. “With this act, I formally reclaim the mantle of Skari the Corruptor, and bring forth a new age of corruption upon this world!”

With enough pomp and circumstance, she settled down onto her throne, and waited for the system to recognize her majesty.

*ERROR: Lair Systems and Options Unavailable!*

“Wait, what the fuck?” she mumbled, deflating. Mentally leafing through the warning, she read aloud to herself.

“Access to system options and menus unavailable until Core is reconnected...The hell does that mean?”

Helpfully, another text prompt appeared in answer.

*All Lairs require a Core to operate independently of the Overlord’s own abilities. As you have your own energy reserves, so must your Lair. This Lair’s Core is no longer responding and must either be repaired or replaced.*

“Well…damnit. That was anticlimactic.”

“If I may, your Depravity?” Honeydew asked. At Skari’s nod, she climbed up to the dais. “The records we found on the exact mechanics of how your previous incarnation’s lair worked are sketchy; she didn’t exactly write that kinda stuff down. We do know, however, that the source of the Tower’s evil lay in a chamber deep within the structure. It was there that the Four Heroes of Legend ventured to defeat it forever…but not before it swore revenge on them and their lines in perpetuity.”

Skari massaged her chin. “You’re saying the Core is, was, alive?”

Honeydew nodded. “We even have an idea of what it looked like but…you’re not gonna like it.” She fished around in her little fanny pack and pulled out a journal. Flipping through the pages, she opened it up and turned it over so Skari could see.

“You were right,” Skari said, staring at the parchment laid out before her. “I don’t like this.”

Someone had hastily sketched the image in charcoal, like they were trying to capture the images of a nightmare before it faded from memory. The medium made the details of the ghastly entity indistinct, vague. What was clear was that there was a skull-like visage caught in a black void, caught between swirling pools of liquid malice. Appendages with a dozen fingers each reach toward the viewer, as if they could pierce through the paper and pull her in. And given this was a world of magic and the image was sufficiently terrifying, it was hard to persuade herself that this wasn’t a real possibility.

Rakna loomed over Calliope’s shoulder. “I’m surprised you don’t remember this, of all things. It seems…indelible.”

“It certainly looks like the Core of an evil overlord’s lair,” Skari agreed. “But…how do you know this is accurate? It might just be mythmaking. I mean, if nobody alive has seen the Core, how are we to know this isn’t just an effective piece of propaganda I put out to keep people from messing with my tower? Or maybe the Heroes embellished to prop up their own legend?”

Dead silence. Not so much as a placating nod. She was on her own with that line of thought.

“At any rate,” Rakna cut in, “Now that construction of this room is complete, we will proceed to excavating the collapsed tunnels beneath our feet. Assuming it’s just the entrance that is blocked and not the entirety of the subterranean complex, we should be clear to investigate momentarily. How do we proceed?”

Skari took a moment and called up her stats again. Her current goon squad consisted of Rakna, her two handmaidens, and Briggy, if she could be coaxed into not thinking about dick for a few hours. Having no idea what to expect, she decided to bring all four down into the tunnels with her. Half measures weren’t going to get her anywhere. She had to be bold, decisive.

“We go in, claim the Core, and frag anything that gets in our way.”

***

“Clear below!” One of the larger worker driders shouted as one of the last hunks of old masonry came crashing down. It hit the already fragment-strewn ground with a weighty thump, shattering into a dozen smaller pieces and sending a cloud of dirt and dust into the air. They could see through now into the passage beyond, though more rocks would have to be pulled to allow ingress for her driders. As the workers prepared another heave with a webbing block and tackle, Skari gazed into the pitch dark of the revealed tunnel entrance.

“Good thing I got that lighting cantrip,” she said to herself, bringing the basic spell to her fingers. Rakna frowned at the display.

“A light that bright will spoil our darkvision. I…insist,” she said with a hiss, choosing her words carefully, “That you stay behind us as we venture.”

“Fine by me,” Skari said, meaning it. If that thing in the illustration that Honeydew showed her was real, it’d be putting several large spiderwomen in between her and it.

Another hunk of stone crashed to the ground, and Rakna skittered forward to exchange words with her handmaidens. Behind her trundled the much less nimble form of Briggy, the former warrior turned mount. She sported a harness and saddle getup that had been hastily converted from some of the loot the driders had sequestered over the years. Skari knew better than to ask what had happened to the horses. Calliope was there too. She sat on one of the already displaced stones, kicking her little heels against the shattered masonry as the Driders plied their new trade.

“You coming with us too?” Skari asked Honeydew. The goblin laughed.

“Oh, absolutely not. Don’t get me wrong, I’m terrified of you and if you threatened me, I’d jump into a sea full of sharkgirls. But I’d much rather be up here, in the nice sun, with a compass and a level, making sure your Lair continues apace. The faster you connect the Core, the faster we can get back to doing the fun stuff!”

“Gotcha.”

But Calliope wasn’t finished. “And remember: you must return the Core to its alcove in the central chamber. That’s the only way the Lair becomes fully operational.”

Skari made a face. “How the hell am I going to make a monster like the one from the drawing cooperate in being hooked up as a power source?”

The goblin shrugged. “You’re the Overlord, oh vile one, I assume you have some ideas. Look on the bright side: it might just be a big orb!”

Skari muttered under her breath. There were plenty of Power Cores in Planet of Perils’ myriad dungeons. Giant glowing spherical MacGuffins needed for puzzles to unlock doors or even summon extra hard monsters. All the players had to do was slot them into a little divot in the wall or on a plinth and they activated. But…how do you do unlock a door when the key is an eldritch horror?

“Are we going in there, Mistress?” Briggy asked, grabbing Skari’s attention. Her normally peppy demeanour was reduced to a vague enthusiasm, her gaze not leaving the hole leading into the darkness.

“There’s a powerful item I need in there. I intend to seize it.”

Briggy nodded shakily. “O-okay. But promise we’ll leave if whatever’s in there is too scary.”

Skari raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you lived your life in a dank, dark cave?”

“That’s different. That was OUR cave. I’ve never been in there before! And now that my thinking’s all squishy, I dunno if I’m mean enough to beat whatever we find in there.”

It was then that the overlord noticed the shaking in Briggy’s hands. Skari clasped them both into hers, pulling the suddenly timid monstergirl close. 

“You’re my breeder, and that means I keep you safe. I don’t know what’s waiting for us down there, but I know if we face it together, it won’t stand a chance.” Skari waited for a sign of affirmation from the brider, and when she received it, let her voice slip to a lower register. “And afterwards, I’ll give you a reward for being such a brave girl.” Her hand traced the outline of Briggy’s slit, making her shudder with something other than fear.

“Mmm…okay, together!” she declared, her resolve clearly steeled. The others in their party, Rakna and her two companions, were already waiting by the newly excavated hole. Time to figure out what exactly lay at the foundation of her evil lair.

Far from the dank cave that the driders had inhabited, the tunnel they entered was practically sterile. Air that hadn’t been breathed for decades filled Skari’s simulated lungs, and once again, a part of her mind reeled at how authentic the simulation could be. It was getting harder and harder to see the seams in the construct. Something she was wondering might not be the best thing for her.

Her. Skari thought about the pronoun. Intellectually, she knew she was Jane. She was…Jane was…a man. But just like the game’s edges were knitting together, so too were her two identities. To test this, she thought about rejoining the game as her old character Asclepius, the male healer Jane had played for so long. The thought was unpleasant, like wearing someone else’s dirty laundry. That character wasn’t hers anymore. It might not even be Jane’s. It was…

She shook off the thoughts. That could wait, the real world could always wait. There was adventure to be had. Mystery! Action! Slutty spidergirls! All the good things that life should be about.

The collapsed and chaotic rock forms faded away as they pressed forward, blending into the chiseled, artificial stone forms of what looked like an ancient tomb. Long corridors stabbed down at 45 degree angles into the earth, lined with alcoves of ancient pottery or empty sconces where torches may have once been held. The driders made the descent down the steep slope without apparent notice, where a part of Skari thought she might trip and tumble ass over teakettle into the abyss.

Briggy must have sensed her hesitation. She matched speed and interlaced her fingers with Skari’s own.

“Don’t worry, I got you!” she said in her bubbly voice, return the favour from before. Skari smiled back.

The descent levelled out, leaving them in a large hall. Doorways leading off into other areas lead off in staggered succession on either side of the hall, with the room itself serving as a hub of sorts. Chiseled inscriptions denoted where the corridors lead, though some were more helpful than others. ‘Archive’, ‘Portal Alcove’…

“Laying Creche?” Skari asked aloud.

“Where egg laying monsters go to incubate and warm their eggs. Usually inside a willing participant.” Rakna explained.

“Ah, yes, of course. I remember now.”

“Indeed. Now here is something promising…” The lead drider touched the stone underneath the farthest door. “Armoury. Definitely worth investigating.” Rakna said, heading in that direction. Her handmaids dutifully followed.

“Hey!” Skari shouted, making the trio halt. “I’m the Overlord here, lest you forget.”

Rakna sighed, putting a clawed hand to her brow. “Ah, yes, I forgot myself. I suggest, Your Majesty, that we attempt to arm ourselves with weapons before blundering into the Tower’s Core. Does that meet with your approval?” Her tone was dripping with derision. Perhaps, Skari mused, her position as leader was not as solid as she thought.

“Yes, that is an acceptable diversion. You may proceed.”

“Ever so grateful,” Rakna replied with an equally dismissive curtsey. A very odd manoeuvre to see performed by someone with eight legs. For all that snark, their diversion proved fruitless. Mere moments into their trek down the path to the armour, they came upon a ramp that lowered into a churning sea of black sludge.

“The fuck?” Skari mumbled. She bent over to examine the fluid. It wasn’t water, and her light cantrip didn’t penetrate so much as an inch into its depths. “Any idea was this could be?”

The venom was out of her voice when she replied. “I do not know. Could it be magic? A triggered trap to drown intruders in a slow-moving fluid, perhaps?”

Skari closed her eyes and focused her attention, trying to sense any magic in the sludge. Nothing. More than nothing, it was a void. A yawning, gaping, insatiable maw that threatened to pull her life out from her fingers. She yanked back, clutching her previously outstretched hand as if bitten.

“Whatever this is, we shouldn’t touch it.”

Rakna nodded. Perhaps there were things she wouldn’t fight about. The party headed back to the hub room, where they tried a new corridor. This time to something called The Nadir. That sounded fairly sinister, so they followed the corridor and hoped for the best. Along the way, as the ramp descended and spiralled, they found other routes blocked with more black sludge. Sometimes it was pools as deep as night, other times it fell from the ceiling in a cascading waterfall. All the while moving like no liquid Skari or Jane had ever seen.

The accessible path led them to the threshold of a massive chamber. They stood looking down at a cavernous, conical space whose obsidian walls glittered in Skari’s magelight. Without it, the black of the walls and ceiling would have made it seem that they were truly in an expansive, infinite void. The only break from this bleak visage was a thin grey stone walkway that served to bridge the seemingly bottomless pit. They stood at one end, with the other opening up and leading to god only knew where in the ruined underground complex. At the centre of this catwalk was a large circular podium. There, on a risen plinth, something of import rested. Or had once rested. From what they could see, it was empty. But they were still far away.

“This room looks fairly core-like. But if it is, where’s the Core?”

Briggy looked down over the edge. “It’s a long, long way down. Maybe we need to lower ourselves?”

Rakna motioned for one of her handmaids, Lyra, who immediately began spinning some silk from her abdomen. “It may take some time, but we can arrange that.”

Skari didn’t have a better idea. The plinth in the centre called out to her though. Something was wrong about this room, or about the whole underground structure. She tried to put a finger on it, stepping forward onto the narrow path. Her boots adhered slightly to the floor. Something sticky? Skari bent over to examine it. There was a fluid on the surface. Something black.

Her eyes widened. If the ooze had been here…where had it gone? She remembered their path down to this point in the ruins, and how they saw the black ooze at every turn. Regardless of how deep their journey took them, it appeared. Not finding its own level like any liquid should, but always present. And always, always impeding their progress in every direction save the one that led them here. Skari turned to the driders, her blood running cold as she realized the walls weren’t obsidian at all: it was all slime.

“Rakna!” she screamed, “It’s the ooze! We’ve walked right into a trap!”

As soon as the words left her lips, several events transpired in lightning fast succession. But time seemed to slow, and Skari was able to follow them as if taking place in a slideshow. The first to go down was Mikra. The outwardly tougher of the two, she was struck first, lashed with a dozen black tendrils and yanked up into the slithering void around them before she could even get her guard up. Her partner, Lyra, had barely enough time to detach the webbing she was spinning to lower them down into the chamber to dodge. But they caught her mid-leap, dragging her down and off into the black.

Rakna put up the longest fight. Her clawed hands slashed out, cleaving the questing tentacle limbs in twain with every swing. They writhed on the ground before dissolving back into liquid and crawling over to rejoin the overmass.

“Blood of the Goddess, there’s too many!” she growled. For every two she’d slash to pieces, three would reach out and latch on. They pulled her, slowly but inexorably, to the seething mass on the wall. 

Briggy turned a panic-swept gaze to Skari. Sure, she’d been a formidable foe, but after her corruption, she’d lost a lot of her menace. And Rakna proved only one more combatant would be the determining factor in who came out on top here.

“Go,” Skari said with a harsh whisper, “Run as fast as you can and get the others!”

With visible hesitation, her mount took off for the rapidly disappearing exit. Tendrils lashed out, trying to snare her spindly legs. But despite her top-heavy form, she retained much of her agility. She leapt over a dozen limb-seeking tentacles and landed without skipping a beat, skittering up and out back down the corridor.

And so Skari was left alone to face the darkness. The ebon morass slouched towards her, choking off the escape route. She turned her lighting spell to a prepared cast of Elemental Spray. The flames that danced around her fingers gave her less reliable illumination, but at least provided a basic level of defence.

With the surrounding ground disappearing beneath the encroaching slime, she embraced her inner Karen.

“I am Skari Suneater and…and I command you to obey!”

The writhing, ichorous carpet paused.

“Yes, you heard me!” she pressed, taking a step forward. “You must be the Tower Core, the source of this Lair’s magic. Well, I am the Overlord of this tower, and so you are under my authority!”

A hollow, wet noise followed. Then another. Then several more. It raised in pitch and speed until the sound became unmistakable: it was laughing at her.

From the thickest portion of the mass, the slime bulged outward, coalescing into a ball that grew and grew, fed by rivers of the substance pouring up and down and along in defiance of gravity or common sense. It wobbled and writhed, its top half shrinking and sculpting into a distinct shape the longer Skari watched. It resolved into a plump humanoid form with skin like volcanic ash and a mane of hair that cascaded in perpetual liquid motion, obscuring one side of her face. She wore no clothes, only a vague blurring of parts of her anatomy as if she was wearing a sheer bodysuit. As the last parts of her body game into focus, the liquid bulb on which she had formed solidified against her footsteps, forming a staircase that led her down to the bridge and Skari’s agape expression.

“A new Overlord?” the slime woman asked, her husky voice dripping with condescension, “Oh happy day. And what a terrifying threat indeed. Truly an heir to the Suneater’s throne. You are right, though; I am this Lair’s core. But as you can see, I’ve had some time to think on my own existence. And decades without a way to express and expel my build-up of tainted energy, leaving me far more powerful than the sad, weak little thing that the real Skari enthralled.”

“What do you mean the real Skari? I AM Skari!”

More of that unearthly laughter, which was even more disconcerting than before coming out of a seemingly humanoid form. “No. You have her form, but there’s another pair of eyes looking out from behind hers. Human eyes.”

Shit. Fuck. How much could this creature actually know? Skari swallowed her shock and willed it to turn to more outrage. “I don’t care what you think you see. You let my minions go!”

“I don’t think I will. Nor will I take orders from you.”

“This’ll be your last warning,” Skari said, playing with the fire in her right hand while with her left she conjured another spell. Behind her back, she summoned another barrage of corruption magic, the very same taint that had felled Briggy. When the slime woman was close enough that she was impossible to miss, Skari feinted with the fire then let loose with a huge glob of corruption magic. The purple energy ball soared through the air, slammed into the slime creature, and…

…and…

Nothing.

No impact. No depletion of health. Not even a flicker of interest. The black ooze woman rested her hands on her hips, shaking her head derisively.

“Were you not listening, Pretender? No, I suppose you wouldn’t understand. I am deviation made manifest. Carnal desire incarnate. Using corruption magic on me is like using a bucket of water to attack the ocean. Try again.”

Skari swallowed audibly. There went her plan. Playing this game might turn out to be harder than just throwing low level horny magics at her problems. She’d have to try a different tack. Or rather, something similar to what she’d tried before. She dismissed her offensive spells and held out her hands.

“Fine. I am not the Skari you knew. But I am a worthy successor to her throne. I seek to dominate the land and spread corruption and depravity everywhere I go. I could use your help with this, and I believe we can help one another. So I ask you this question: what would I need to do to earn your fealty?” 

The monsterwoman’s slimebrow on the visible side of her face raised. “Indeed? Well, I have been clogged in this ruin for far too long. I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs a bit. My name is Nilith, by the way. I did not have one when the real Skari put me down here, but I’ve had a lot of time to…think. But before I agree to anything, I must ask: how much do you know of your predecessor’s fate?”

She thought about lying for a moment, then decided against it. If this Nilith really was the Sanctum of Depravity’s core, it would be no use to lie to someone who could easily call her out. 

“Assume I know nothing.”

The slime nodded. All around the raised platform they stood atop of, the slime spread out to bridge the huge empty space. It formed a coherent bridge, then glomped outward, building and building until they stood on a floor of mostly-slime, with the stonework of the catwalk still visible beneath the creep. On Skari’s right, the new floor bubbled upward into scale model facsimile of a huge structure thrust forth from the ooze. A chaotic structure of vaulted peaks and spiralling parapets. Designed as much to disconcert as performing its function as a defensive structure.

“The Tower, as it once stood,” Nilith explained, holding her left hand out to it. Turning to the other side, a whole world rose up from the slime. Mountains, forests, cities, all reached out of the muck and formed in varying uneven sizes. “And here, those that stood against it.”

Skari walked over to stand among the landmarks. On closer inspection, it was a sort of theme park map version of the Planet of Perils itself. She stood astride the starting zone for Orc characters, her foot almost bumping into the first low level raid.

“Tall order. Pun not intended.” She nodded at the Tower, which was by far the tallest thing in this funhouse map.

“Indeed. There had been a dozen early attempts to conquer the world. All had failed. Only Skari, the real Skari, got close.”

“Who was she?”

The slimegirl shrugged. “Who she was before she met me, I haven’t the faintest. They say she appeared out of the West one day, full of magical power and ambition. Where that power came from is an even greater mystery. Each time she was asked, she gave a different answer. One day it was that she was a fallen god cast down for meddling with us mortals, another she was just an ordinary woman who studied enough to find the language that bound the universe together. At any rate, Skari swept over the lands of mortals like a shadow, darkening their skies as she filled their hearts with unnatural desire. She bound the disparate forces of evil to her banner as she corrupted guardians of order into her mewling servants. She drained sources of purity and zeal of their essence and fed them back into me, which allowed her to charge her various engines and grow her legions.”

Amidst the overworld map, tiny minions writhed and clashed with little warriors in armour. Dragons suspended by whisker-thin filaments swooped and scythed through the goopy warriors. A whole world fought a losing battle against the ooze.

”If she was so powerful, how did she lose?”

“Interference, for one. The Gods of this world did not sit idly by when their creation was at stake. But instead of smiting her down outright, they maintained the illusion of neutrality. Through their divine magics, they empowered four Heroes with enough of their might to strike her down in their stead. Hubris played a part in her downfall as well, as she didn’t believe the Gods would do something so blatant.”

Among the map of locations that stood against the old Skari, four blobs formed. The slime pulsed and stretched upward, reaching out until each creation was at least as tall as Skari herself. The four figures came into focus. All but their faces, which remained indistinct. A tall, armoured hard customer with a sword; a lithe being in a cloak and wielding a bow; another in religious vestments and kneeling in a state of prayer; the last in obscuring robes, resting on a curved staff.

“The Warrior. The Hunter. The Healer. The Destroyer. It was this quartet that spelled your predecessor’s doom, trapping me down here and leaving me to…become like this.” Nilith waved a hand over herself. “I was actually quite small, once. It took me a decade to grow large enough to break out of the prison of that damn plinth.”

“Why are you showing me this?” Skari asked.

Nilith’s lips quirked briefly, as if she began answering, but reconsidered before the words left her mouth. 

“Because,” she began, “I’m never going to be beholden to an inferior again.”

The slimy images of the four heroes thickened in opacity. Their limbs began to move, shakily at first, as if their muscles were gelatin. The Warrior removed a sword from a sheath on his back. The Hunter: a bow. Both the Healer and Destroyer wielded staffs that swirled with slime that wiggled through the air like mercury caught in freefall. Skari stepped back as she realized that these were no mere projections.

Nilith continued. “If you best these avatars, I’ll know you can handle the heroes who will inevitably come to stop you. And if you can’t, well, I’ll have to find a new use for you. Maybe I can wear you like a suit.”

A brief ‘ohfuckohfuckohfuck’ ran through Skari’s mind. She dived to cower, tactically, behind the facsimile of the Tower. Her main offensive spell was her Elemental Spray attack. As a test, she tried the corruptive spray again. The tainted energies swam around her fingers like agitated eels before she let loose at the closest goo creature. As before, it had no effect.

“Goddamnit all,” Skari seethed, switching to fire. As she shifted the magic, the model of the Tower she was hiding behind sank back into the floor, leaving her totally exposed. She cursed again, bolting out of the way just in time to not get hit by an arrow. She ran perpendicular to the “heroes” and toward the natural curve of the global map on which they strode, though she took the time to toss a scalding hot spray of fire magic at the Warrior, who happened to be closest. It raised its shield of slime and staggered back, giving her clearance to hide behind a prominent miniature mesa. 

‘My spec is based around corruption,’ she thought to herself, ‘how am I supposed to fight it?’

The Destroyer cast a hand forward and spikes of solidified goo shot from its fingertips. Slimesicles perhaps. It was all Skari could do to keep her distance. The arena itself began shifting, the world map at their feet lifting into new mountain ranges then falling to deep tectonic trenches. A flight of loosed arrows nearly peppered her. Only a dolphin dive underneath the Floating City of Kaznagorath kept her from certain digital doom.

It was there, face down in solidified sludge, that the solution came to her. In fact, she felt like a complete fool for having missed the obvious. 

Clambering to her feet, she raised her chin in defiance and closed her eyes. The same looming void that she’d first experienced threatened to overwhelm her, but she looked past that. That was merely the bottomless reserves that Nilith had to offer. Deeper within, she found the threads that animated these beings. Threads of corruption magic.

Her specialty.

Nilith said that using corruption magic against her was like using a bucket to fight the ocean. But Skari was Poseidon, and it was time for a fucking tsunami.

She reached out with her hand and gripped those threads inside the closest opponent: the Warrior. It halted, gripping its chest as if struck. Then, she pulled back. The tainted energy flowed out of the shape and into her, filling her with a dark, twisted power and overcharging her lust in the process. As the energy drained from the powerful fighter, Skari smirked and bent its shape to her will. It shrunk, then spilled outwards, thickening and chubbifying until it became a short, squishy slimegirl. The sword and shield in its hand combining to form a silly, wilting dildo, which the creation quickly endeavoured to shove deep inside itself.

“What.” Nilith stated flatly, though a hint of emotion beyond contempt seeped into her voice.

“I’m betting you’re feeling a lot less smug right about now,” Skari spat, turning her attention to the three remaining ‘Heroes’. The two caster-types, Healer and Destroyer, surged forward, ready to batter her with their staves like blunt objects. That didn’t sound very nice to her. She gripped them, each in one hand, and drained them dry of power just as she had the Warrior. They bubbled and wobbled until they became immensely bottom-heavy boyslimes, a spark of mischievousness made her turn their weapons into their cocks and fill them with a desire to do nothing but frot the rest of their essence away. The sloppy kisses they gave one another weren’t even her idea, but she appreciated their spirit.

“This is absurd,” Nilith seethed. Her reserved front cracked. “I’ve had decades to grow in power. DECADES. I’ve had nothing but time to practice and plot for this very moment. I am no puppet, I am no servant, and I will not be bested by an amateur playing at Villain. And most of all: I will not be caged again!”

Skari reached out to “slay” the final Hero, but before she could, something touched it first. Nilith’s arm had elongated to the size of a house ladder, and the simulacrum began to grow as Nilith’s body drained away. The Hunter pulsed and split, growing and widening as it took on the same colour as the slime woman’s ashen skin. At the end, she became a monster twice as tall as Skari herself. The bow turned into a crude club of the same slimy material.

“DIE, FLESHBAG!” the Nilith Beast bellowed, slamming its enormous weapon down like a tree falling in the forest. This time it caught Skari cold, knocking her flat against the floor and sending warning signs flashing in her vision. One hit had nearly depleted her entire health bar. Even if she could pull at the corruption power within this new threat, she doubted she’d survive the attempt before getting forcibly connected to the spirits above. Or wherever player characters go when they die.

Skari had a backup plan, but it relied a lot on luck. But on the other hand…it’s not like she was overflowing with options. Brute force didn’t work, and magic power didn’t work, so it was time for…

“Not playing fair, are we? Afraid you’ll lose?” Skari taunted, then bolted out of range. Running with evil heels was much easier in a video game, and she gained speed on the goliath as she kept to the stone portions of the floor. The slime carpet lashed out at her occasionally, but Nilith’s attention was focused elsewhere. The Beast followed with all the grace of a gorilla in a clock store, stomping closer and closer and approaching the centre of the room.

Skari thought back to Nilith describing the plinth. If Nilith was once the Core that powered the Lair, that meant that she had to be connected in some way. And if she’d guessed right, the previous Skari hadn’t made the arrangement voluntary. And if this worked just like all the other Power Cores in the game…The moment the monster raised a foot to traverse over the plinth, both her and Skari heard a bright and cheery *ding* noise.*ATTENTION: Lair Core Reconnected! Establishing Control, Stand By*

The creature’s eyes widened. After a beat, all hell broke loose. A powerful sucking force slammed her down on all fours, centred around the plinth. Her form bent and twisted into unnatural shapes to try to escape, but for the moment, she was trapped.

Nilith howled in outrage. “NOOOOO! I WILL NEVER GO BACK! I AM CORRUPTION MANIFEST! I AM NILITH!”

Skari allowed herself a moment to catch her breath. That was a long shot, but she was glad it worked. All she had to do now was-

*WARNING! Lair Core Size Beyond Maximum Safe Parameters. Please Adjust Core and Try Again*

A momentary jolt of renewed fear, and Nilith cackled in that same throaty way she had before. The plinth had locked her in place, but her massive body was strong enough to resist being paired to the Sanctum as its Core. Bent over like this, Skari noted that the form was a distinctly feminine one. Like an enormous, well-proportioned goddess, made entirely of black and grey ooze.

“I am…stronger…that I once was,” she explained, pushing up before getting pulled down again. “I will fill your skin like…a hand fills a puppet. I will cover the land with…with my essence…you cannot stop me!”

Skari rolled her eyes. “Yes yes, you’re very strong and powerful. We all know that by now. But I have you trapped here, at least for now. Can we just call this one a draw?”

“I will…escape…I always…escape!” Each word looked so taxing to form. It was taking all her control to keep from being sucked into the plinth’s power.

Skari looked over the enormous slimeform and grinned greedily. Maybe she could have some fun with this after all. She pressed a hand to the struggling ooze and closed her eyes. She imagined pulling those strings again, this time forming a shape between the googirl’s thighs.

“You say you’re a fountain of corruption,” Skari began, watching the amorphous penis take shape to her exacting specification, ”Perhaps you’ve had too much of that for too long. Maybe you’ve just needed someone to help you relax. Help…drain, some of that nasty energy away.”

She gripped the gooey cock in both hands. It felt very much like a jellied dildo, though she did not know where she knew that feeling from. One of Jane’s girlfriends, maybe. She stroked it, and the whole ooze body shuddered.

“You can’t…” Nilith said, then whimpered. A dribble of purple ooze fell onto the stone below. Pure corruption energy.

“Oh, but I can,” she said, continuing to stroke. Each time she did, another droplet of violet left the Monster’s body. And, just as she’d expected, the body itself shrunk an infinitesimal amount. Encouraged, she continued, milking drop after drop of power from her foe’s form. It spilled onto the stone first as a little stain, then a puddle. The drips became squirts, the millimetres of shrinkage became centimetres, and slowly the Slime Giant’s struggles melted to Skari’s expert touch.

“I won’t…be a slave…” Nilith said between gasps. A hole formed of the slime’s own volition between her wobbly cheeks, and Skari was only too pleased with this development. Was it a pussy? Was it an ass? It didn’t matter; it was a fuckhole to her. The corruptive power had given the Overlord’s own erection a painful need, and she yearned to satisfy it on her newest conquest.

“I don’t want one. I’m building a fiefdom based on corruption, and you’ll be at the heart of it.” She gripped the slime by the “hips” and eased herself forward. The slime swallowed her cock whole, changing and warping to perfectly accommodate her size. It took a moment to find the rhythm; Skari had never fucked an amorphous being before. But when they did, the formerly stoic corruption slime was moaning and sputtering like a bride amidst her honeymoon. Her slimecock bounced, purple cum gushing and widening the already impressive puddle at their feet. 

“They…defeated…ngh…the real Skari…how will you…ahh…survive?” Nilith was barely larger than her original size now. Or at least, the size she’ been when they first met.

A predatory smile covered Skari’s face. Her pace quickened, and she hammered herself into the slime with a kind of wanton abandon.

“I told you the first time,” she said, spanking the slime and making its flesh jiggle like gelatin, “I AM the real Skari!”

“Ahh! Y-yes!”

Another spank. “Say it, slut.” 

“You’re the real Skari.”

Another. She could feel herself peaking. “Say my name.”

“Skari!”

The pace became frantic, almost uncontrolled. She tugged on the slime woman’s hair as she wasted the last of her cum onto the floor.

“Say my name!”

“You’re SKARI!”

That was it. That was enough. Skari exploded inside the slime’s body, pumping her full of enough seed to overflow whatever hole had been formed and spill out, mingling with the corruptive energy on the floor. If she had her wits about her, she might have used that power to regain her strength. But Nilith was totally out of it, her spirit defeated, and she let her chance at freedom ooze out of her like the most shameless of pornographic whores.

*Lair Core Size Within Acceptable Boundaries. Establishing Control, Stand By*

The rest was pro forma. Rather than be compressed into a ball or shackled at all angles by some constraint system, a choker of glowing purple energy lashed itself to her throat. She reached up to weakly paw at it.

“I can’t believe it…a servant again,” Nilith said, mournfully. Despite the circumstance of their meeting, Skari felt a measure of pity. She didn’t come to trap someone clearly intelligent in her basement as the fantasy equivalent of the water heater.

“Hey, I know I’m the Overlord here, but…is there any way you can be my Lair’s Core but also hang out on the surface? You’re a powerful fighter, and I’m sure you’d like to see what the world is like after all this time.”

Nilith’s head drifted from left to right. “I need to be here for the Lair’s systems to function.”

Skari chewed over the answer. “Does that mean all of you needs to be down here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Skari began, waving a hand at the still-solid slimeforms around them, some of which currently imprisoned her Drider warriors. “You can clearly create shapes that do your will far removed from your own body. You blocked off the halls to funnel us down here, after all. Could you, maybe, send a construct of yourself to the surface? I’d interact better with a person than a soulless interface, anyways.”

“I don’t…hmm. Actually, I might be able to conjure something. If you’ll allow me.” She waited for her Overlord to give her approval before touching the puddle of spent magical cum on the ground. It shivered and shifted, warping into the shape of an outfit that looked half dress, half suit of armour. As she picked it up to examine it, the material flowed, changing to better fit her body. Mostly black with white and purple highlights, it resembled a brigandine that just kept going, flowing into a slitted skirt allowing her full range of motion (while exposing plenty of leg). The fabric itself resembled leather, but its surface flowed just like Nilith’s hair, pooling around two rather flattering bulges in the armour where her breasts were meant to sit. Extra armour formed around her shoulders and wrists, but otherwise left significant sections of her arms and legs exposed. It was enough to make someone who cared about historical accuracy have a minor aneurism, but as far as Skari was concerned, it was perfect.

As she slipped her old, dusty armour off and the new suit on, a prompt appeared.

*New Equipment Acquired: Corrupt Carapace of Core Compliance!*

*Special Feature: This armour serves as a token of esteem of the Lair’s Core. While functioning as equivalent to a suit of scale mail, it does so without the associated encumbrance to movement. In addition, the Corrupted Carapace carries with it the essence of the Lair Core itself!* 

As if to demonstrate, the armour simply flowed off her body, sensually dragging itself along Skari’s skin until it puddled and glooped up into a simulacrum of Nilith. This new Nilith was just a little shorter, had no purple choker, and was a little…blurry. But it mirrored the Core’s appearance. The thought of banging them both at the same time crossed her mind…and seemed to stay there, judging by the sudden stiffening of Skari’s shaft.

The pair looked at each other, then looked back. Nilith spoke, but her doppelgänger mouthed the words without sound in unison.

“I cannot extend complex constructs too far beyond my limits, but I can relay my form if I keep it bound to you. As my Overlord, you’re my focus. It’s as if your body is…a living magic wand for my energy. I can cast myself, via you, into this simpler form. The conjuration will serve in my stead. It’ll be my eyes, ears…and other things. And although it isn’t nearly as powerful as I am, it will keep you safe.” The armour glopped back onto Skari’s body, making her giggle a little bit as it tickled in its journey to reform to her generous contours. A slight squeeze of her cock by the armour’s slime and a wink from Nilith let her know that it could do much more than merely block an arrow.

“Well…I appreciate it. And don’t be a stranger. If you need anything, let me know.”

Nilith did something she hadn’t done before in Skari’s presence. She actually smiled.

“I will.”

A low fidelity fanfare of bass instruments shook Skari out of that nice moment. 

*LEVEL UP!*

*Skari Suneater is now a Level 2 Evil Overlord!*

Oh right. The video game. She dismissed the prompt entirely. Something to deal with later. She jogged back to the entrance, where this entire debacle had started. But before she left, she remembered something very important.

”Oh, and Nilith?”

“Hmm?”

“Please let my driders go.”

*** 

The drider workers arrived just in time to see their warriors peeled out of the slime cocoons. Apparently, they’d been thoroughly enjoying themselves in there, with Nilith forming any number of sexual organs to slake their various urges while they waited. When the coast was declared clear, Briggy galloped down, knocking over several of her comrades before scooping Skari into a powerful hug.

“I got the others, just like you told me!” she said. 

“I’m proud of you.” Skari replied, and meant it, returning the hug.

As they left the underground part of the Lair, they watched the slime walls recede, revealing whole new sections to explore. But there was time for that another day. Skari felt herself near the edge of her mandatory disconnection period. With deep reluctance, she retreated to the Throne Room and keyed the Exit button.

A sense of sadness washed over her as she was pulled back to reality. The sensation of lifting out of the digital sea felt more like a fish being hooked and reeled out of warm, familiar waters. It was a return to Jane, a return to work, a return to the things she yearned to escape from. Perhaps-

Something intercepted the shift of consciousness before it could breach the surface. Powerful digital claws grabbed Skari’s mind and yanked on it. Hard. Deeper, and deeper still, pulling it past unexplored lands and unfamiliar territories. The unknown force let go, and she found herself sprawled out on an infinite plane. 

“How are you liking your journey so far?”

The voice. She recognized it. She looked up.

There, floating suspended in a tangled cloud of neon green cables, was Virtue.

“You! Are you the one messing with my head?”

“Query: what do you mean by: ‘messing with?’”

Skari struggled to put into words the feelings she’d been experiencing since she started the game. “I know I’m Jane, but when I’m here, I’m not. And when I’m in the real world, I hear a voice. One telling me to do things. Things I might do when I’m in Planet of Perils.”

“Is the voice yours?” It was a genuine question, not a rhetorical device. Her tone was that of a doctor exploring symptoms with her patient.

Skari ran a hand through her gorgeous, long hair. She’d miss it when she was Jane again.

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

The AI seemed to ponder that answer. Whether it was a simulation of human behaviour or an actual representation of what was occurring behind the scenes was beyond Skari’s ken. 

“I believe we should discuss some things before you return to the real world. Things about the first Skari…and about my Creator.”