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DMG Report: It's Not About Damage
🕑 Added 2024-07-20 02:08:16 +0000 UTCThe Pharaoh was an old soul. An old, bored and lonely soul. A soul that had spent ages asleep, caught in the eternal boredom of his impossibly complex and labyrinthine soul, wandering the infinite vastness of the Millenium Puzzle.
Thus, the nameless Pharaoh would relish and cherish any opportunities to alleviate his boredom while he waited to meet with the soul that would finally free him from the darkness he was caught in, that would bring him to the light of the world of the living and give him an opportunity to walk the world once more. Possibly with his own two feet take domain, resurrect his country and maybe take over the world.
Megalomania got boring after a couple hundred years so he wasn't even sure if he was down for that anymore, but what he did know was that he longed to do something other than deck building, and would absolutely love to play some Duel Monsters, or whatever the modern version of it looked like, the moment he got out.
Maybe the only rival he'd ever had, Priest Seto, might even have reincarnated into the same period that he would finally be liberated in, wouldn't that be a rich coincidence? If the Gods did hear his plea, then he would beseech Osiris, Ra or whichever one of them was listening to make it so there was at least one worthwhile rival for him to test his mettle against whenever he woke up.
Also if they could tell him his name that'd also be lovely.
As it was, all he could do was simply use the recollections stored in his memory, in his soul, of the many companions he had made, the monsters he had summoned, fought alongside and with. In conveniently portable card form. Definitely much more playable than the old gigantic slabs they used to duel with.
His entire deck list flashed through his mind, and dozens, hundreds, thousands of permutations even. His monsters answered his call and presented themselves for review, one by one, he judged them, and granted them a role and a place in his deck, from the weak and deceptively pathetic Kuriboh, who would willingly sacrifice itself for the sake of its master, earning a place through its magical effect and dedication rather than its strength, to the Dark Magician, his greatest monster, the definitive wizard in terms of attack and defense.
Absent mindedly, the Pharaoh wondered who would have the balls to create a Spellcaster more powerful than the strongest of them all. Surely none would be so foolish. That would be as crazy as creating a Dragon more powerful than the Blue Eyes White Dragon, and wouldn't Priest Seto's reaction to that be rich?
More and more monsters came up, from the bodies that would promise to fight to the last breath for their master, to the crafty and intelligent that afforded some sort of great effect, and even a certain cheeky blue elf that was less than subtle about her insinuations about what she would do to him should he refuse to put her in his deck. One run with the Dark Elf alter ego was one run too many, in the Pharaoh's entirely unhumble opinion, so he hurriedly agreed to put her in the deck.
With that said, he had a good deck list, rounding the forty card total, with a handful of fusion cards, especially since Gaia, the Fierce Knight himself, had made an impassioned plea about how riding Dragons was a whole lot cooler than riding horses, and the Pharaoh had to agree, Curse of Dragon was definitely a much better mount for Gaia, even if the increase in his offensive power was negligible, it would actually raise him to being slightly more powerful than the Dark Magician, even if he was considerably harder to bring out like that.
"Alright, I think that's it," the then nameless Pharaoh said, looking over his choice of cards. He had a good assortment of cards of many colors, the green Magic cards, he reminded himself they were called Spell Cards now due to some kerfuffle with translations and something called intellectual property, the magenta trap cards, and of course, the yellow and orange monster cards, as well as the purple and blue special monster cards that had different means to summon them.
After a few brief moments, the Pharaoh realized that Ritual Monsters really should be in the so called Fusion Deck where they'd be available for the ritual to summon. If ever he did remember to talk about that, he'd definitely go to whoever was the arbiter of the game's current ruleset and demand for that change to be made, because as they were, Ritual Monsters were borderline useless to anyone who couldn't just create them on the spot out of thin air like he could.
With that thought firmly forgotten immediately after he made a mental note of it, the Pharaoh looked to one of the monsters he had rejected.
A card featuring a bubbly and vibrant blonde girl, in a very stylized blue dress with pink and gold accents, wearing a conical, multi-segmented hat and wearing several adornments of gemstones with pentagrams carved into them. She was quite the voluptuous looking young lady, and he mused that it really would suck if some imbecilic and overly-prudish moron would reduce the sizes of those melons just because they got this insane idea in their head that the existence of large breasts on a piece of cardboard could be damaging to the minds of children.
That really would be pretty fucking weird, wouldn't it?
"For some reason I have an urge to curse four kids in specific," the Pharaoh wondered openly to himself. "As it is, you might cause a few too many problems and you just don't bring enough to the table to make it worth the trouble," he said, stroking his chin.
The card, laid in a stone table crafted from the same grayish-yellow sandstone that composed the entirety of his mental landscape, a physically impossible labyrinth of stairs with no concept of gravity or logic to them, began to glow.
The Pharaoh closed his arms, covering his naked chest. He had not yet adapted to the body of his would be host, who unknown to him would be a rather pale asian boy born in modern day Japan, something which became immediately obvious since not a single stitch of clothing covered the Pharaoh's divine body, instead, he was laid bare, rippling muscles and brown skin for all to see, especially as he crossed his arms and tensed a little.
The card lifted into the air, and suddenly, became the voluptuous figure of a stunningly beautiful and attractive blonde. The card really didn't do justice to the figure she sported, she really was something that could only be produced by the gods themselves, carved into the figure of a woman who would surely inspire a thousand young men's nights of self care.
Not that the Pharaoh was moved. He had seen and bedded the finest wenches Egypt had to offer, after all... or so he thought. He couldn't actually remember. His life was more than a thousand years ago after all, and he didn't quite remember much of it, other than some blue guy that kept nagging at him to go back to bed for some reason.
"Master! You can't do this to me! You should put me in the deck!" the blonde spoke, her voice simultaneously high pitched and soothing, not quite hitting that range where it gets annoying but just about high enough to give an impression of youthful femininity... or maybe he just hadn't heard a female voice in so long that he was exaggerating.
"Why?" he asked.
"I'm strong!" the monster said, raising her staff and shaking it about, fireworks coming from its tip, "and, and I get stronger when the Dark Magician or Magician of Black Chaos are in the graveyard!"
"Speaking of which, what's up with that? Shouldn't it be Black Magician or Magician of Dark Chaos? What's with this inconsistency?"
"Modern people are weirdly touchy about the word for some reason, I think it's because they're afraid of occultic connotations!" the monster helpfully provided.
"But why the inconsistency?" the Pharaoh insisted.
"That's not important, Master!!" she interrupted. "You should put me, the Dark Magician Girl, into your deck!"
"Give me a good reason," the Pharaoh said. "If you're convincing enough, I'll let you have a place in my deck... eventually," he said.
"Well that's... better than not being allowed in at all I suppose," she said, crossing her arms under her not inconsiderable breasts and tilting her head, thinking. "Right, I think I have the perfect reason why you should put me in!" she said, smiling brightly.
"Alright, I'm listening, blow me away," the Pharaoh said, uncrossing his arms and gesturing towards her as if giving her permission to speak.
She swiped her staff under her and the environment changed, and suddenly the Pharaoh was falling back and sitting on a comfortable couch, a modern one, not like his actually quite uncomfortable throne at all, instead it was cushioned and had actually decent places to rest his arms.
His fingers gripped the end of the armrests, and he spread his legs a little.
The table from before was gone, and now, with her knees on plush red carpet that lead to his cushioned soft throne, the Dark Magician Girl offered her respects to her Pharaoh by grabbing at the bustline of her corset-like minidress and pulling it down, her large, pale tits bouncing a little, the pink of her areolas catching the Pharaoh's eye and the stiff little pebbles of her nipples hypnotizing him for a few moments.
As he looked down, he wondered... "how did that outfit stay on?"
"Literally magic," the Dark Magician Girl said.
"Fair enough," the pharaoh responded.
She smiled, leaned forward and rested some of her weight on his lap, one hand on each of his knees as she shoved her chest forward and rubbed her heavy, plentiful and quite soft tits on his legs, the contrast of her fair, almost pale skin against the heavy tan of his, she rubbed her chest along his thighs and all the way to his crotch.
There, she found that he was indeed reacting to her, and her eyes widened as she laid eyes on the staff that eclipsed the Pharaonic Rod of Command.
"Uh.. ohh, Master, I didn't know you were packing something like this..." the Dark Magician Girl said, her eyes as wide as saucers, baby blue irises almost shining like stars, he could swear pink hearts appeared in place of her pupils between blinks. She licked her lips, then began to work her mouth a little more overtly, clearly gathering up her saliva, as she stuck her chest forward, and then opened her mouth, closing her eyes and sticking her tongue out, letting her drool drip down onto her own chest, into the valley between her mountainous bosom.
Humming, the Pharaoh gave tacit approval for her to continue her movements, and she grabbed each of her breasts, her fingers almost sinking into the wonderfully thick and fat breasts that surely would bounce beautifully should she get on his lap, spreading them so that her saliva covered cleavage opened up.
And once she did, she moved forward once more, now fully between his legs, and then closing the breasts she held open like two crushing walls in a trap in the pyramid that would one day serve as the Pharaoh's resting place. For a brief moment, the Pharaoh knew what those people would feel like, then he threw that thought away because surely it would never bring pleasure such as being caught between the soft, warm and wet breasts of a devoted guardian like the Dark Magician Girl.
Hissing and gripping the armrests of his loveseat so hard they might have cracked if it were a real wooden chair, the Pharaoh closed his eyes and gathered his strength. It was a very good start for sure, but it was only that, the start, he had to get a grip and keep his stuff together, because she was only beginning to show him what she could do, making a case for herself.
"Here I go, Master! Enjoy my Dark Magic Breastfuck Attack!!!"
Her what now?
Thoughts of questioning the incredibly silly name flew off his mind when she began to move, putting pressure on him from both sides by gripping her breasts from each side with her hands, and then using those same grips on herself to move her chest up and down, accompanying it with minimal movements from arching her back and relaxing it, back and forth, resulting in swift, quick and overwhelming movements that stroked his cock with something that even without his memories the Pharaoh could ascertain far outclassed even a first class whore's pussy.
"F-Fuck, that's intense!"
"This is just the beginning Master, here I go for real!! I'll chain my Oral Assault Mode to my Dark Magic Breastfuck Attack!" she called, opening her mouth, luscious pink lips forming a big O shape and then she dove down, her conical hat luckily was curved behind her, so she didn't hit him with the pointy end, and instead, she sank him into even wetter, warmer pleasure.
Her lips sealed around his glans, her tongue lashed at his prickhead, even tickling the slit where his cum was threatening to burst from. She had no objections licking up and swallowing his precum, in fact, she seemed to relish in it, she loved it, she was making a show of lewdly swallowing and savoring it as she did, and then she resumed moving her chest.
The shuffling strokes and clinking of her outfit and adornments was rapidly drowned out by the sounds of her swallowing, gulping, slurping, sucking and moaning, and his own moans and groans that were growing increasingly more out of control, the Pharaoh's untold years of abstinence were playing him a bad time, but even the greatest and most experienced seducer would surely be brought to their limits.
She was just amazing, and she was so dedicated, so intense and potent... Her breasts were amazing, and she was applying even more pressure while sucking him off at the same time, her mouth was divine, her breasts were tools of the gods, her tongue carried skill beyond anything a human could reproduce, every touch of the tip of her tongue along his head felt like she was slowly making him come undone, and every stroke up felt like his balls wanted to explode.
Finally, he could bear with it no more, and with a strangled scream, he announced his orgasm to the world.
She pulled her mouth off his dick, and then redoubled the speed of the strokes with her breasts, as he shouted a wordless warning.
Her face was one of sheer bliss and tremendous happiness when on a stroke up, he burst like a volcano, like a Torrential Tribute of semen, if there wasn't an incomprehensibly vast distance between layers of his mind maybe it would've even struck the ceiling, but as it was, the hot and sticky seed launched high into the air before it came raining back down, landing on the Dark Magician Girl's hat, hair and face, as she looked up to receive it, her mouth open, though only some of it landed on her open mouth, some landed on her eye, gluing it shut as it did.
She didn't stop just with that, obviously.
Stroking back down, she applied even more pressure when she pressed her tits against his crotch and cock, and then stroked back up, an even bigger, heavier and milkier shot of semen, the Pharaoh's prodigious ejaculation once more burst up, though this time, she put her face in front of it so that it would directly land mostly on her mouth, and then she stroked him again for a third time, triggering yet another burst of semen from his balls all the way up through his cock, though she opened her mouth and engulfed him just in time so that not a drop of it spilled anywhere else, pulling back her chest to free him, bobbing her head up and down rapidly while sucking him off, swallowing another, and then a fifth, load from him, before finally pulling back, grabbing his length with her hand, aiming him at her chest, and stroking him for a sixth and a final seventh shot, all of them spurts that would put a lesser man to shame, covering her tits in thick and sticky babymaking fluid.
She panted and moaned, letting go of his cock to begin rubbing it into her chest, looking up at him, her face one of perverse bliss and extreme pleasure.
"Ahhn, your cum is so hot... it makes me feel so good, master," she moaned, "I'm a good servant, I'm a good monster," she moaned, "you'll put me in the deck, won't you Master..?"
The Pharaoh panted, closing his eyes and swallowing, gulping down air as if to try to compress it, calming his breath slowly as the woman under him kept moaning as she enjoyed his seed.
When she let out a cutesy giggle, he had enough. His cock immediately became as erect as the first moment, and he stood up, grabbing her and turning her around, bending her over the table that had disappeared before, returned now, except made of softer and less harsh wood.
Her ass was exposed to him, the fat globes swallowing a thin blue strip of cloth between them, as the Dark Magician Girl's leotard rode up. He grabbed at it and pulled it out of the way, revealing her sopping wet pussy.
"I think I might just keep you in my Side Deck," he said, smirking down at her, "until I feel you've earned the tribute," he added.
She looked back at him, and licked her lips as she did. "Oh master, as long as you use me," she moaned, "I'd gladly pay any activation cost."
"Enough with the delay," the Pharaoh said, putting his dick against the exposed pink of her pussy, desperately twitching and leaking its juices, "you only won the first duel, it's time for me to go on the offensive, matches are best out of three after all!"
She giggled, though she was cut off by a moan that trailed off into the infinite vastness of the Pharaoh's impossibly complex mind, resonating through all of it, so much was he consumed by thoughts of fucking his obedient servant.
It really was a good thing that the Puzzle wouldn't be solved for many years still, because Atem certainly needed quite a bit of time to get his fill of the Dark Magician Girl, or rather, fill her up!
