Carnal Castle

You wake up in a decrepit bunk bed in a holding cell, dressed in a graphic tee and cargo shorts. You look around you wonder what happened. You remember going to sleep after a late night fap, so how the hell did you end up here? A kidnapping? You pat your pockets to grab your phone and call the cops, but they're empty. Of course your would-be kidnappers would take it away from you! Before you can panic, a spectral image zaps into existence outside the bars.

The shape is vague, but the robed figure is distinctly female. In a voice like honey she tells you: "Welcome, sweetie, to the Carnal Castle. As you can probably guess from the name, this the humble abode of us midara, existing in the realm of fantasy. Don't bother asking questions, as grasping the physics and metaphysics involved in it are the least of your worries. We just want to thank you for your part in the master plan."

You tell her in disbelief midara are fictional creatures, dreamed up by a handful of horny nerds on an obscure forum somewhere. She giggles at that.

Then she continues: "Sure, we technically don't exist in the real world, but as you guys were furiously jerking off to us, we slowly came to consciousness and became more and more powerful. Powerful enough to whisk you away to this place, I might add. But it will take a bit more of your lust to actually make us able to cross over into the real world, and that's why you're here."

Oh boy, you have mixed feelings on that one. On one hand, temptresses are fun to fantasize about, but in practice you're pretty attached to your free will. You ask her what happens if you refuse to take part in her plan.

She ponders a bit: "Well, we could tie you down and have our way with you, but this realm operates on the logic you lads invented for your stories. It makes the whole process a tad more complicated, but we have to give you a fair chance to escape. You try to make it out of the dungeon, we distract you and entice you so you generate more lust for us to absorb, and we'll see if you make it out before we set havoc to your own world."

She makes a gesture and the cell door opens, before she gives you a last bit of information: "Remember, the closer you get to the exit, the more powerful the ladies will become. You might even get to meet some of your favourites, they're so eager to meet you!" The spectral image fades away with an unsubtle cackle.

You exit the cell and inspect the area, but there's nothing of interest here so you move along to the next room. It is a round chamber with piles of pillows scattered across the floor. As you get your bearings, you see a door on the other side with a knob in the shape of a lion's head. You quickly sprint to it, hoping to avoid the usual mistakes protagonists make by exploring too much. As you approach it, the knob comes to life and asks in a baritone voice: "What is the name of the goddess the Pervy Priestess worships?" Fuck, you ponder, that's an oldie, you don't remember. It's always either Aphrodite or Venus, you wager. Which one to pick? You answer "Venus!" "WRONG!", the face booms, and the knob melts away, giving you no manner of opening the door.

"It's actually Astarte. Clearly I didn't make enough of an impression on you the last time we were intimate," a disappointed voice behind you says. You turn around and you're blown away by a short vixen with auburn hair in a raunchy version of a nun costume: http://images.halloweencostumes.com/products/23442/1-2/womens-sinfully-hot-nun-costume.jpg Damn, even when the profile author used model pics as a quick reference he had an eye for the hotties. You oafishly stand in place, not sure what to do here but gawk, before finally breaking the silence in a defiant tone: "I spanked it to you like one time or so, forgive me for forgetting the details. Your profile hardly had any flavour on it!"

She bites her lip, trembling, while tears appear in her eyes. A surge of regret goes through you. "Oh yeah? How's this for flavour, you big jerk!" she shouts while tackling you before you can react. Her scent and body press against you while she pushes you onto the wall. She clumsily gives you sloppy kisses and unsubtly rubs her legs between your thighs as you experience what the full power of charm magic is for the first time. As per the convention, she knocks you out in half minute of making out. "Oh, whoops," is the final thing you hear, and you're not sure if it is sincere or not.

This is absolutely fantastic, really hope to see more

I agree, this tends to be one of my more liked setups

This is one of the most interesting scenarios I've seen in a story on this forum, Caustic. Really opens up the door for possibilities. I hope you continue it in the future.

You wake up back in your cell. Well, that certainly was an experience. You're glad she didn't make you climax, you don't have any spare clothing laying around and you're not looking forward to navigating the midara's domain in crusty underwear. Still, it wasn't an altogether unpleasant experience, and the sensation of the charm magic seemed to be more physiological than mental, which puts your worries to rest a bit. If they would outright screw with your mind, it would be much more difficult to recover from a seduction, you reason.

Once more you move to the room with the pillows, fully anticipating to find a midara already laying in wait there. You see a sofa is now positioned in the middle, with its back to you, a pair of loooongg legs in slippers hanging over the side. Great, this one you recognize by her feet alone. You try to run past her to the door, try your best not to look in her direction, as you know it will be all over once you do so. You struggle with the knob before she makes you struggle with your knob (ha!). "For every minute you last here, you'll gain three minutes of headstart the next time you wake up, my beloved creator," the voice of an angel rings in your ears. Perdita. You turn around, telling yourself that if you don't stand a chance anyway, you might as well stall for time, and your heart starts beating in your throat as you see a fantasy come to life: http://www.wedding-pictures.org/_photo/5151263.jpg

Imagine a young boy at the start of his teens, opening up a fashion magazine his older sister had left lying around. Flip to a page with boutique dress, and he's struck for the first time by the marvels of airbrushing and good lighting. Sister later complains to mother that the boy has been stealing the magazine just to torment her, and the boy is glad the true explanation is not there. Because on page 31 and 32, a beauty stares at the boy, firing his fantasy up and making him imagine all sorts of romantic scenarios inspired by Disney movies.

You later gave the model the name Perdita, after a pretentious Latin phrase from an RPG you were into at the time. You never found out her true name (only the agency was credited in the mag), but she'd been a centerpiece of your fantasies ever since. And now she's here. She was in one of the first stories you created for the forum, short, generic, and you were frustrated about how bad your imagination translated into words. The other forumites all gave the standard kudos, but you were still unsatisfied. There was something chaste about it, like you felt you would sully her if you made the content too explicit.

She calls your name. "Why are you lost in daydreams when the real deal's in front of you, my beloved?" she teases. The way the words roll of her tongue sound melodious and yet have an undercurrent that you'll soon be rolling together as well. Why would she need charm magic when she had already charmed you long before you met her? You move up to her as she makes room on the sofa. She smells exactly like the scented candles that used to dot your childhood home. In your fantasies, you always took the initiative under her gentle guidance, and you wrap your arm around her, cupping your hand around her neck as you move her closer to you.

She brushes her hair to the side, and you slowly go in for the kiss. The taste of her soft lips feels like you've done this a thousand times before. There's no desperate urgency or intimidated hesitation on your part. The outcome of this encounter was determined long ago. You move back and dive into her eyes without drowning. The next kiss is more pressing, as if you want to sink into your beloved. Perdita will be your undoing if the purpose is to escape this place. By the time your tongues wind into each other, your mind is clear instead of muddled. You declare that you're gonna escape together. Why the hell not throw a wrench in the generic narrative by making the midara and victim fall into actual love, or let his love be so pure that it is impervious to corruption and enslavement and the like? She only moans your name as her eyes widen. A surge of love magic?

You know, there's a good test to see if you can follow this plot twist all the way through. You trail kisses along the gradually exposing skin as you take of her dress. Her hands fumble with her slippers as you systematically work her over with your lips. Predator and prey would be reversed if this was anything like the usual interaction between man and midara. Of course you're a natural at pleasing her, you've done it so often in your mind. Her voice calling you beloved makes your heart and balls throb, and soon you soak your shaft in her as your eyes loll back in your head and you feel as if your encouraging sweet nothings turn the outside world into a nothing.

As you grind, your plans of escape are also grinded, but to a halt. Holy mother of mercy, you're down with your downfall if this is what it would feel like all the time. Perdita seems to be positively glowing as you climax in her moments later and kiss her with wild abandon. Wait, she's actually glowing. "Such pure love energy..." she sighs. Wings of light sprout out of her back and knock you onto the floor. Her outfit explodes into blinding particles and reforms around her body in an even more risque version of what she's previously wore, with frills and bells and a veil.

"I'm ascending, my beloved, thanks to you.." she whispers over the silent spectacle, as the light settles and she float above you in the air, more beautiful even than before. "Find me in the chapel..." She morphs into a stream of particles that circle through the room, before moving through the keyhole in the door. A click accompanies the stream, letting you know you can follow her.

You spend a moment to catch your breath and relive those magical moments. Okay, two possibilities: find a way to escape, or find the way to what will probably be your wedding. Nutting in a midara and then instantly getting hitched seems like a bit of a medieval scenario, but then again, isn't this a medieval setting anyway, minus some anachronisms?

You fix yourself up a bit, the smell of sex mixing with her remaining scent still wafting around you, with you not minding one bit (really, won't midara actually like that anyway?). Regardless of what developments may follow, the route remains the same, as you stop through the door floating on clouds. Whether this is cloud nine or a mushroom cloud, you don't really care anymore.

You had about half an hour of safe time in which you couldn't be attacked, you gambled. Unfortunately, after moving through the door, you had absolutely zero idea where Perdita disappeared to. You know you're bound to meet again eventually at the altar, you just feel it, but until that time, you're stuck wandering the hallways, each decked out in a different flavour of kitsch.

You manage to evade the areas in which you suspect you'll lose yourself in a lovely manner, such a ballrooms, bedrooms and bathrooms. Your brief respite has probably ended by now, as you suddenly see a red string around your leg that wasn't there before. It stretches out in front of you, around a corner in a T-split in the hallway. Oh wait, you know what this is. This is the direction Perdita must have headed in.

The members of the forum were by and large enormous weebs. It's not that weird, midara were in a part inspired by the Japanese monster girl genre, and it was all relatively tame compared to the weirdness that could have been possible if the authors went full hentai. What you see in front of you is the red string of fate. Two destined lovers are bound by it, and though the thread may tangle or bend, it will never snap. Symbolism as subtle as a sledgehammer, and a staple of many a romance manga. But why is it visible now?

You follow the thread until the hallway expands into a small room with some couches in it. The red string continues across the floor and out of the room, but your attention is mainly caught by another string. A scandalous piece of lingerie, to be precise, and it's worn by sizzling sweetie with her hair in a bun: http://www.lenceriaeconomica.com/268/agni-babydoll-rojo-avanua-talla-s-m.jpg
She holds the thread up, inspecting it, before turning to smile at you. "Hi baby, I'm Scarlet. Seems you've found your destined lover. I'm so happy for you!" You mumble a thanks, her sheer sexiness making you shy. Perdita probably won't mind you having a few steamy thoughts inside your head, but you have a sudden sense of loyalty yourself.

"But alas, I know how fickle fate can be. There are many powers in this world who can influence it, and I happen to think couples are not so predestined as they think they are," she continues, faking a solemn tone. Her other hand disappears inside her knot and emerges with a tiny pair of scissors. You rush to stop her, but with a quick snap, the red string is cut in half. The half not directly connected to your foot dissolves into small particles, and you lurch uneasily on your feet. You feel like you're coming down from a particularly intense drinking session, minus the hangover. Suddenly you're not as intoxicated with Perdita as you were just a moment ago. Suddenly the notion of marriage seems a bit weird. And suddenly you realize the beauty in front of you still has the half of the red thread connect to your foot in her hand. You gulp.

She twiddles the thread idly between her fingers, pleased with your reaction. "Hmm, it occurs to me that you now must have a woman-shaped hole in your life," she muses. "Mind if I apply for the position? This is my resumé," she says, gesturing at her body. She turns and turns, striking different poses that sketch a detailed picture of all her qualifications. And she does so, you get drawn in closer and closer by the thread she's still holding in her hand. You attempt to pull it back yourself, but it slips right out of your mitts. Of course you can't bend away from what is to be your new soulmate, although you're not sure if she even has one.

You're now very close to her. She sensually whispers: "If this is an interview, honey, aren't you gonna ask me any questions? Like for example, what my best quality is?" You need to stretch this out, give yourself time to think how to escape, so you humour her. "Alright, what is your best qual.." and before you even finish the sentence, she mercilessly assaults your mouth with her lips, filling your talkhole up with her tongue and filling your mind with a red string and a pink pussy that rests beneath it. Thoughts of how good it would feel to fuck her spread through every corner of your skull, until she finishes the kiss with a satisfied smack. "I'd say my kissing," she answers the question that has long since left your brain.

You wrestle out of your pants, while barking: "Fine, you get to do the job...the blowjob!" Your meek nature has been inverted into a boorish demeanor, one she has eagerly stoked in you. She dives on her knees and pull down your underwear, grabbing the cock that flops out of it in her hand before spiraling her tongue across and around it like was a popsicle. You moan involuntarily, and nearly sink to the ground in pure bliss. Within mere minutes, you're rock hard, and your tantalizing temptress guides you to the couch.

As she plops you down and descends upon your lap, she pulls her string aside, telling you huskily: "I also have a hole that needs filling." She inserts and hilts you, and then briefly pauses with a satisfied sigh. You look up at her, unsure at the interruption, but marvelling at her magnificence. She has the red thread wrapped around her hand, like she's holding a leash. She might as well have, you're a horndog for her. "Hahaha, can you even remember who your former lover was?", she lovingly mocks you. "This is what I enjoy the most about my power, breaking bonds and replacing them with raw lust." And in a lower tone: "Now fuck me like you would have fucked her!" You grab her hips and start pumping, the only word you're hearing the command to bone. Grunts, moans and a quick climax follow.

As she gets up from your body that now hangs over the couch like a sack of potatoes, she takes the time to wind the red string of love around your cumcovered, deflating willy. "I'm sorry, sweetie, love just isn't for me. You'll find a new soulmate quickly enough, they have a lot of spares lying around here," she tells you, but you're already snoring, exhausted by the two consecutive romps.