For some it’s a hobby. For others it’s a lifestyle. For me, Dungeons & Dragons is a lifestyle. I got into it as a kid and have been hooked ever since. No one in my life understands. They think it’s stupid, a thing only for pathetic nerds. I’ve been told I’m wasting my life on more than one occasion. That I need to stop and grow up. Thank God I have the internet. I know I’m not alone. There are others like me. And once a year we meet up.
Every year in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin fans gather to play the game on the largest scale imaginable. Not something as simple as the most people playing together at once or something like that. That’s too mundane for the birthplace of D&D. every year on the anniversary the town throws a carnival. Notable town landmarks are transformed into campaigns that large groups try to complete. The best part? We do it all in full character. Costumes, make up, near fugue state identity disassociation, the works!
I say ‘we’ but that doesn’t really include me. I’ve had to work every year. I just watch the live stream later. Sad, I know. Not this year, however! I finally managed to get the time off and I’m on my way.
Though I myself did not arrive. For the length of my stay I would remain Torrent Aalto, a level 5 Water Genasi Bard. My skin was made up, my faux armor was on, my mister kept my skin looking moist and my pan flute hung around my neck. I strutted my way around town just happy to be there. Now which campaign should I go on first? The Dragon? The Rust Monster? The Hill Giant? Maybe the Gelatinous Cube. That sounded like a fun one to start on.
Arriving at the old barn turned dungeon I signed up. I was placed in a campaign which would be led my a dungeon master using an app to control the dice. As we made our way through it didn’t take us long to encounter the giant prop made from ballistics gel with dime store skeletons stuck inside. It took less time for it to kill me. So much for knowing what I was doing. It was the same all over town that day. No matter what I did it ended up the same way: abject failure.
Eventually I ended up at a local bar. Themed to be a village pub The Drider’s Lair felt very homey. I could spend a lot of time here. I was drowning my sorrows at the bar but still. Nice. The lady behind the bar didn’t hurt either. She may have only been 5’3″ but what she lacked in height she more than made up for in tits. 34DD I would find out later. She wore a tight black corset and mini skirt made to look like webs between the legs of a spider.
“Don’t get a lot of your kind in my web,” she tells me.
“So, you’re the Drider? Not a very spidery outfit.”
“Oh, and the whole giant spider body is so welcoming to customers.”
“Fair point.”
“Tulloch”
“Torrent.”
“Cute name. Suits you.”
I blushed under all my make up.
“Thank you.”
“First time?”
“That obvious?”
“Don’t feel bad. Most people fail their first day. This is nothing like the actual game. Requires different skills.”
“Thanks. I kinda needed to hear that.”
She made a point to be seen checking me out.
“I bet you have the skills I need.”
“Oh yeah?”
Was I flirting? I don’t flirt. I guess Torrent does.
“Tell me have you ever tried the roleplay in bed?”
“N…no.”
“Stick around. I’ve got big plans for you tonight.”
“Will do.”
The hours passed as I nursed my drink and watched the others come and go. Tulloch made sure to give me good views off her ass and tits whenever possible. Last call came and went. We were finally alone. She stepped out from behind the bar with a strip of athletic wrap in hand.
“What’s that for?”
“How else does a spider catch her prey?” she teased.
She took my hands and placed them together palms touching. She then wrapped them tight in her binds. This soon spread past my hands and up my wrists before stopping at my elbows. She then hooked my elbow with my own and led me behind the bar. She opened a trapdoor in the floor to reveal a wooden staircase.
“You go all out.”
“In, Bard.”
We had discussed my character as we waited.
“Alright.”
I headed downstairs a big dumb smile on my face. She closed the door behind us. At the bottom I found myself in a modest little apartment. It was both modern and D&D at the same time.
“Wait, do you live down here?”
“I do call the pub ‘Drider’s Lair’.”
“Cool.”
She playfully shoved me forward into the bedroom. It was painted in nice neutral colors with splashes of white in the form of webs, evoking a cave. A large canopy bed sat in the middle.
“Remove your armor, prisoner.”
I did. She raised her eyebrow.
“Painted your whole body, huh. You are committed.”
I just blushed and looked down.
“Onto the bed.”
I scurried into place. She climbed up before me and began wrapping my right arm. She fixed to a series of straps and pullies on the top right bedpost. Before I realized what she was doing she had my arm suspended high above my head. The left soon followed. Then the legs. I was now hanging inches above the mattress. My ‘captress’ did not appear finished. More wraps began to overlap my body forming what I realized, again too late, was a web cocoon. These too were lifted so I was held straight, no sag.
I jumped as I felt little points slide across my exposed skin. Where there was any.
“What was that?”
“My legs.”
“That didn’t feel like legs.”
She stood up to reveal her skirt was gone. That and she was commando. She held the rigid skirt in her hand. She ran it over my chest causing me to squirm. I didn’t move much. She ran it between my legs. I moaned at the sensual little touches. God, they felt so good. She licked the tip of my dick. My jerk was much more powerful but equally futile. She kissed my member up one side and down the other.
“Oh my god!”
“You have been captured by a drider. Do you know what driders do with our prey?”
“W…what?”
She climbed onto me and slipped my dick into her ‘cave’.
“We feast.”
She rode me long into the night. And the day. And the next night.