As the old man has said, at the edge of the village, a small ramshackle hut stands at the end of a dusty path. I make my way toward the shabby hut, a sense of foreboding growing in my stomach. The thick fence is made of rough-hewn wooden planks, each one seemingly chosen for its sturdy nature and rough texture. The planks are old and weathered, with deep cracks and splits running through them. Moss and lichen grow in patches along the wood, adding to the fence's rustic appearance.A combination of metal and wood makes up the gate, with the metal parts forming a series of vertical bars and the wooden parts providing a solid backing. The metal parts of the gate are rusted and pitted, with large flakes of rust peeling away in some places to reveal the dull gray metal beneath. The wood is weathered and worn, with cracks and splinters visible in some places. The gate is a bit crooked, likely from years of use and exposure to the elements. Despite its worn appearance, the gate seems stur
To my right, a small table is set up with various books, half-melted candles, and a few rocks similar to the ones in the shack. Opposite the table, against the far wall, a simple quilt covers a small bed. Next to it, a small shelf holds a few more books and what appears to be a carved wooden box.On the left side of the room, a small stove sits against the wall, with a pot on top. A few utensils hang from hooks above it. Next to the stove is a small counter with a basin and a few jars of what appear to be preserved fruits and vegetables.Overall, the interior of Sasha's hut is simple and rustic, but it exudes a sense of comfort and homeliness. The space is cluttered but not messy, and everything seems to have its place. Despite its humble appearance on the exterior, the hut is clearly well cared for on the inside.After I finish looking around, my eyes drift back to Sasha. Her tight top reveals a generous amount of cleavage. I can only imagine how stunning she is beneath those clothes
As she speaks, my mind starts to race. How does the Harem Multiverse relate to the disappearances and the purple clouds? And why is the Goddess of the Harem Multiverse interested in these things? There's definitely more to Sasha's story than just a cursed woman living in a remote hut."What did your father say about the Harem Multiverse?" I prompt gently as I begin to piece together the puzzle.Sasha looks at me hesitantly as if debating whether or not to trust me with this information. “He told me that there were a number of worlds— a multiverse— that existed, and they all shared the same energy and were ruled by the same goddess.""And you think this has something to do with the disappearances and the purple clouds?" I ask, trying to connect the dots."My father taught me a lot of things," Sasha says. "He believed in being practical and having a strong family life. He used to tell me weird tales about his past and about his grandfather— my great-grandfather— who fought in the Secon
I hope my proposal doesn’t creep her out. There are implications to things she might not want to hear or do, especially with a stranger. But when she looks at me with those sparkling green eyes, there’s hope and excitement matching my own and coursing through the air like a comet. It has me smiling in return.“Luck against bad luck?” Sasha hesitates for a moment before nodding. "Yes, you can try. But please, be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you. The curse cast upon me has tremendous power."I reach over and take her hand in mine. She looks startled by this sudden display of affection, but I squeeze her hand reassuringly.“You're a good person, Sasha. Whatever happens, it’s not your fault. I’m a grown man and can make my own decisions. Remember that. Besides, it's good to have a little thrill in my life once in a while.” I think again at my +1 life acting like a safety net. “And don't worry. I wouldn't risk my life on only a hunch.”As she gives me a side nod, her braid
The storm, as it seems, has intensified even further, and the howling wind has become deafening even within the confines of the house. Such is the ferocity of the storm that the furniture is shaking and the windows are rattling ominously. A gust of air screams like a pack of angry wolves, and the rain comes down in sheets, pounding against the wooden walls like an army of tiny fists. The sound of thunder rolls through the air like an earthquake as the world outside seems to be taken into chaos. As the storm rages on, neither Sasha nor I pay any attention to the weather as we spend our time exploring the realm of her fantasies. Lying in bed on her back, Sasha has her eyes closed as her hands are busy: one is tracing around her nipple while the other has moved down into her baggy pants to play with her hungry cunt. I stand beside her, my cock stirring within its confines. Her moans and noises of pleasure only make my excitement grow.But nevertheless, I have to leave her for a momen
Peeling paint reveals the wood underneath the old white layer right in front of my nose. I raise my hand high, preparing to let out a mighty rap, when suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, it hits me: I’ve died, and I’m yet again knocking at Sasha’s door. I stare at the shabby door as if the whole thing might just collapse over me into a pile of dust and termites. It's like waking up from a dream where you think you're flying, but then suddenly remember you're really just lying in bed with your arms flapping like a chicken. So I pause mid-knock, my hand hovering awkwardly in the air, looking like a startled squirrel caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.From my perspective, just seconds ago, I was beyond the old wooden door of Sasha's house, shoving my cock into her cute little mouth. I click my tongue in annoyance at the thought that never happened. Sure, I could go that route again, but I won't. I don’t have another life stashed away. The same noise that attracted me the fi
I go round the house and glimpse upon Sasha’s workshop.I can't believe I'm back to square one! Well, at least I know what to expect this time around. As I approach the shack, I can already smell the musty scent of earth and stone. And there she is, Sasha, hunched over her workbench, surrounded by glowing rocks arranged in intricate patterns.I stride closer, the gravel crunching loudly under my boots. I don't want to startle her, but I can't help my curiosity. I mean, the last time I saw her, this freaking goddess in the sky was giving me a blowjob. Ugh, that reminds me that System hasn’t updated my stats… again…[Your last sexual encounter never happened, daddy]Sasha turns around as soon as she hears me, her emerald eyes meeting mine. Her dirty-blonde braid falls over her shoulder, and I can't help but notice her delicate features and perfect lips. I clear my throat, trying to hide the fact I've been staring at her for too long. I need to keep my game on point, similar to the firs
It took me two days to reach Bannockburn, in the Kingdom of Tarsys, Sasha’s hometown and the place where she’d gotten cursed. This seemed the only place where I could find some answers and a lead on the magic wielder who can undo the curse. I’ve talked with villagers but no one has seen Ethel, the so-called witch. I had to bribe a few townsfolk just to talk with me, so my pocket is feeling the pain. But I need to find Ethel. And fast. It would be a real shame to never get to fuck Sasha. I mean, that would be like a real tragedy. I'm sitting at a dingy table in a crowded tavern, surrounded by books and parchments. I'm trying to figure out where the witch who cursed Sasha lives, but so far, my research has been about as helpful as a chocolate teapot.As usual, I'm nursing a mug of ale, but this time, I'm not enjoying the bitter taste of the brew. I've given up on trying to hide my hunger from others. What I yearn for is something quite basic, yet so elusive— a juicy slab of roasted b