The Dungeon Lord

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and my mother was reprimanding me.

"Kevin, you ought to behave yourself," my mother said icily. "It is unacceptable to observe your sister taking a shower."

I was having dinner with my family, and I kept quiet. What's the point in answering if you are not listened to?

"Young man, listen to me while I am explaining to you what you are supposed to do in my house," she said while grabbing a piece of chicken. "What do you think, honey?"

My stepfather, Quincy, was quite tall and lean. He'd come into our lives about a year prior.

"You know what I think, babe," answered my so-called father, chewing on chicken the whole time. "Unfortunately, as I told you, your son is beyond repair. He's a pervert, and he's obsessed with his sister. He spies on her everywhere - in the shower, in her room, everywhere. I guess I'll have to punish him again."

"Hey, I didn't watch her!" I shouted. "She is a liar!" It was futile, I knew, but I was angry.

"You have not been told to speak. Silence!" My mother's eyes flashed with fiery rage. She started breathing heavily, and her mounds started swaying as well. Though being scolded sucked, I couldn't help but look at my mother's outstanding assets. In plain English, her tits were huge. Once, I'd found one of her bras in our laundry basket; it had read '34 FF.'

Ivy was my stepsister, and she'd become the golden apple of discord in our house - the reason I'd become its whipping boy. She had much smaller boobs than my mom, but they were still impressive - just in a different way. I guessed they were about C-cup size - just enough to knead.

"Kevin, go to your room," added my so-called father. He kept on eating and didn't even glance at me.

"But I didn't..."

"Silence, I have said!" my mother shouted. "Do as you are told, young man." My mother was beautiful when she was angry. Her nostrils were flaring, her ample bosom was heaving up and down, and her pouty lips had tightened up.

I nodded and stood up.

My sister, wearing a revealing pink top, gave me a wink. Her blond ponytails swung, and a wicked, dominant grin appeared on her face. She was as cute as an angel and as ruthless as a demon.

I made my way towards the living room when I heard, "Thirty minutes. Living room. I'll get your ass red."

I turned around and took a look at my stepfather. He was still eating chicken, not paying attention to me - as usual. He was quite different from my mother in many ways, and that was reflected in their choice of clothes. Mom preferred to dress up like the head of a company - smart white blouses and black skirts. Quincy dressed like somebody working in the back of a bakery. He usually wore shorts and wife-beaters at home. I didn't understand why she'd chosen him.

"What must you say, young man?" asked my mother icily.

"Yes, Sir," I answered. "I'll be in the living room in 30 minutes. May I go?"

"Get lost, boy," said my stepfather and chief tormentor.

I left the dining room.

***

I was doing qigong - a form of meditative yoga - and was thinking about what had happened in the dining room. I'd been holding a tree pose for over fifteen minutes.

How did I know that? That was quite simple. If I felt I had lost track of time, that meant I'd been doing it for over a quarter of an hour.

Why was I doing qigong? Because I needed to do something to cope with my awful home life, where I was constantly berated and abused because of the words of my stepsister.

I didn't know why my mom didn't like me and my stepfather didn't give a fuck about me, but meditation and doing a tree pose helped me to accept the situation - almost.

I got beaten more often, even two months ago, than the last month. I didn't spy on my stepsister, but Mom and Quincy didn't believe me because Ivy had her father wrapped around her little finger, and the two of them somehow had my mother completely under their spell.

At first, I'd tried to stand my ground, but it had been in vain. I still didn't give in, though - not mentally. I hunkered down. They said if you waited by the river enough, the bodies of your enemies would float by.

I didn't want to kill anybody, but if life handed me an opportunity to turn the tables, I knew I would take it. I wanted to be ready, just in case that miracle happened.

There was a banging on the door.

"It's time," said a male voice. "Don't make me wait, boy."

"Yes, sir," I replied.

I heard the sound of his retreating footsteps.

***

I leaned against the wall, palms touching it. That was Quincy's favourite position for spanking.

"Twenty-five, Sir," I kept counting emotionlessly.

Another flash of pain splashed around my buttocks.

"Twenty-six, Sir," I muttered.

"Louder, boy! You should have enjoyed watching my little daughter..."

"Negative, Sir," I replied. The pain ensconced on my lower back as well as on my buttocks. My ass was genuinely burning.

"Don't lie to me, boy," Quincy said confidently. "You're a pervert. You must be punished properly."

I was silent. There was another intense flash of pain.

"Twenty se...seven, Sir," I hesitated for a moment. The pain was getting to be too much. Humiliation would soon follow it.

Another whistle of a snake whip cut the air and stung me again.

"Tw... twenty...E..e...eight...Sir," I muttered.

I felt another blow.

One more.

I could barely speak. I wouldn't be sitting down for a long time.

"Okay, you may go, boy," said Quincy, and then he snorted. "What should you say?"

"Thank you...Sir," I said, slowly slipping down the wall.

My lower back hurt, my ass hurt, and my arms hurt. Everything hurt.

I'll find a way to get revenge.

I burned inside. It hurt in its own way, but that fire was mine and mine alone.

***

I was lying on my belly and resting. I'd gotten a tube of hand cream and had already used it. My butt was still sore, but I felt better physically.

Sometimes I got beaten quite severely, as had happened just half an hour prior, but usually, I received fewer strikes.

Anger and dark thoughts were roiling within me. I truly wanted to do something about the situation, but I couldn't see any way out. No plan coalesced.

No opportunity had presented itself. I needed to find a job - be home less often.

By itself, that was a reasonable plan, and seemed achievable too. My mind didn't stop there, though.

It couldn't. It had to keep the inner fire going. After getting the money, I'll be able to...do something. At least I'll have some resources that can be used to achieve my goal of revenge.

My eyes were closed while I was pondering all that shit.

And then... something changed.

I was lying on something cold and hard. It was a floor, but it wasn't mine. I slowly opened my eyes and saw a grayish floor of granite-like stone.

I didn't have the strength to be scared or to panic. I simply got up and looked around.

The room was cavernous, with walls made of rough stone that rose high into the darkness. The only light came from the flickering green torches mounted on the walls, casting eerie shadows that danced across the room. A few torches with green flames were mounted in sconces. At the far end of the room, there was a throne.

No! The Throne!

The Throne was jet black in colour, and it measured about three feet in width and seven feet in length. It was looming over me. I'm 5'7, but I felt its power.

The green flames of the torches gave the throne a ghostly glow. The room was quiet, except for the soft crackle of the torches and the distant drip of water echoing through the cavern. It was a place of power and mystery, and whoever sat on the throne was sure to command respect and fear from all who entered.

I suddenly felt a powerful desire to kneel before it.

No! Not today!

My mind fought back. It had had a lot of practice staying strong in the face of domineering external forces.

The wish became nigh unto irresistible; it attacked every aspect of my reason at once. It tried to convince me that not obeying was absurd and impossible - that it would violate some natural law of the universe.

I made a step forward.

And then another.

Something submissive in me kept telling me I'd have to give in, but my inner fire raged in response. Whatever was in my head was just another abuser - just another asshole, like my stepfather. The difference was that this one wasn't breaking my body. If it can't even do that, my inner fire declared, how powerful could it possibly be?

I kept approaching the Throne.

The rivulets of sweat were trickling down my forehead, and my weakest part kept telling me to obey, but I...I was inexorably approaching it.

Finally, I was close enough to touch it, and I did. The mental invader vanished. I was wholly myself again.

"My congratulations, Master," said an ethereal voice.

I looked around but saw no one.

"Am I supposed to become visible for you, Master?" asked the same voice.

"Yes...servant," I firmly answered after a short delay.

A bundle of green energy immediately appeared.

"As you ordered, Master," whispered a voice.

"Could you be more feminine?" I asked.

"Certainly, Master," answered the green ball, and it started transforming.

A few seconds passed, and before me stood a large-chested woman with a curvaceous figure in front of me - a naked one. Her pussy was pink and shaved, her tits were like twin watermelons, and her nipples were pointy as arrows.

"If I can please you, Master, just tell me," she said in a lovely voice. "I'll fulfill any of your wishes!"

I was perplexed. Without some kind of abuse to rage against, I was slowly coming to my senses. The strangeness of the situation was finally sinking in. For the first time, I wondered if I was dreaming.

"I'll tell you what I crave... later," I said cautiously. "Where am I?"

"You're home," the woman answered without delay. "You proved yourself as a genuine Dungeon Master, and you can settle here, Master."

"You mean, it's a dungeon where I can make some traps and capture people, and I should protect it, right?"

"Indeed," she said and winked.

At least, I thought she did. It happened very quickly, and I was very off balance.

"Can you give me all the needed information and be a bit more helpful?" I asked a bit angrily. "I know nothing about the place and what's happening."

"Indeed, Master," she replied graciously. "My name's Vivian, and I'm the soul of the Dungeon. You have been summoned because your soul is marked. That means that you had the potential to become a Master, though few who are marked are able to pass the trial. You did, though, which means you now have the option to truly become one.

"I also took the liberty of healing those minor wounds of yours," she said, "so if you wish to sit down upon your throne, you may do so without fear of pain.

I nodded and carefully took my seat. As she'd promised, there was no pain at all. I hadn't noticed the healing; in fairness to myself, I'd been very distracted.

Suddenly aware of what had happened, I reveled in the feeling. Being totally pain-free had become a rare occurrence for me back home.

The throne's surface was slowly transforming, changing its structure and form. Soon it finished, and I found myself sitting on something quite comfortable. The colour remained the same, though: anthracite black.

"May I continue, Master?" asked Vivian.

"Yes, go on...servant," I said.

"You honorably passed the will exam, and now you possess all the rights and responsibilities of a Dungeon Lord. Within its walls, you have greater power than in the outer world. In exchange for those powers, you are meant to care for it - as you would a mansion or a garden."

Her pointy nipples aimed at my heart but hit my groin. My cock was semi-erect; that didn't surprise me. A naked woman was calling me "Master."

"What abilities do I have?" I asked.

"You may choose any of the ones placed in front of you," she replied. "Just say, '"My abilities", Master".

"My abilities!" I shouted.

There's no better way to describe what appeared before me than to say it was like something out of a video game.

Pictures and text remained perfectly still in the air, as though displayed on an invisible television or monitor. There were sinister, medieval affectations - again, like the art team for a video game had put in the effort to make the various menus fit the setting - but everything was easy to see and easy to read.

I noticed many darkened branches stemming from the initial source - "locked," they would call them in a game - but three were already unlocked.

The first was called "The Mind Branch," and it offered up two possible abilities.

The first level of "Mind Reading" would apparently allow me to read the minds of creatures whose level was less than the level of my spell. I could read only the thoughts the creature was having at that very moment; I couldn't dig around into their memories.

The first level of "Hypnosis" would allow me to hypnotize creatures and put them into a short trance. While being hypnotized, I could implant some beliefs and instructions. Being a low-level power, though, it seemed as though I wouldn't be able to make any deep, grand changes to a creature's personality.

That all sounded promising, but I wasn't going to neglect the other options already available.

"The Telekinesis Branch" included two possible abilities as well.

"Phantom Grasp" could envelope some creatures - no more than 10 kilograms total and make them unable to move, or it could change their positions.

"Invisible hand" could manipulate different small objects at a distance of 5 meters from me, but I needed to have visual contact with the object.

Lastly, I regarded "The Illusion Branch," the first tier of which again included two possible abilities.

"Concealing aura" could distract someone's attention from me, though it, too, seemed very low-powered. The description was not perfectly clear, but I gathered that, at the low levels I was starting at, it could make a creature who was focused upon me suddenly forget all about my presence. It also worked better at night and with fewer people, which made sense, I supposed.

"Mellow metamorphosis," meanwhile, could give me the ability to pretend to be somebody else.

Hmm, what should I choose?

P.S.

My dear reader, it's up to you what Kevin will choose.

You may vote via comments.