Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-38691345-20190601022444/@comment-36855838-20190601135325

Some people might have liked being worshipped.

Being revered is one thing, but worship is a whole other beast.

I had always though of myself as undeserving of praise or adulation, yet still enjoyed recieving it.

But this girl was troublesome, a twenty-something who thought me a god for besting bioshock infinite with ease when she waltzed in on my tenth playthrough.

And being worshipoed is especially troublesome when the person worshipping you is a Hellhound.

She had not begun small, groveling at my feet with a duplicitous prostration.

It is said that even the gods cannot tame a Hellhound's spirit, but it seems they can demand their feigned respect.

And so, our life together began.

---

Tamara had been staying with me for about two weeks now, and had slowly settled in to a massive pile of blankets next to my gaming couch, forming her own oersonal nest, there she sat today, wishing to witness my "miracles" again.

I had continued playing games, enjoying the little gasps and stifled cheers of "Hurrah," and "Deus Vult!"

She may not have enjoyed subservience, but her enthusiasm was certainly real.

Just as I was beginning a boss fight, [] Tamara began another "offering."

I was seated on the lengthy bed-like couch, my legs at a right-angle to the television, with a massive quilt draped over me.

This same quilt was now rising and falling as she slunk her way towards ne.

A fast approach, a perfectly timed parry, and a powerful Riposte!

She finally stopped moving, and I could feel her breasts pressed against my lap, smooshing as only braless breasts can.

I waited, tense, the pontiff rose from the floor, slowly circling, waiting to strike.

She moved once more, straddling my waist, a moisture coating my lap as I realized she was bare.

A swing, another parry, a yank, an insertion.

"P-please, accept this offering, oh H-holy one. . ."

Her voice dissolved into quiet mouns, whether she really thought I was a god ir not didn't matter to me, she did this so often and cudfled me so much I didn't care.

Victory, and release.

---

Another fine winter morning, snuggled in the blanjet nest with my darling.

I nuzzle her soft body, she's always so warm.