**Synopsis:** An old man dies, torn by regret. Due to his high karma, he has “near-limitless possibilities for reincarnation”. He chooses to reincarnate in a fantasy world as a voluptuous futanari succubus with big tits and an irresistible smile.
Erotic fiction that contains: Futanari/Dickgirls, Genderbending, Futa on Female, BDSM, Nymphos, Masochistic characters, Threesomes, Orgies, Facefuck, Deepthroat, Dom/Sub, Taken by Monsters, Corruption, Game elements, etc.
## 284: Choice of Weapon
With the mysterious ‘miss Ruby’ nowhere to be seen, Number Four had plenty of time to pick his weapon. The shirtless men opened the massive chests they brought which contained a heap of sharp blades and pointy sticks.
The old man took skimmed over the surface contents of the chests, but instead of rummaging through each one, he knelt at one chest, placed his hand on the chest’s back wall, and gently nudged it forward. But instead of staying in place, like a some-three-hundred-pound object should have, the chest skid forward, sliding several feet across the rocks before the friction stopped it and it toppled over, spilling its contents across the ground.
“Agh!” one of the masked staff barely jumped out of the way from the chest that landed right where he stood a second ago.
Many, including Beatrice, were understandably surprised at the ease with which this old man emptied the chest with only as much effort as it would take to push forward a half-open door. The countless medieval weapons that scattered across the ground were even more numerous than what the chest’s maximum volume suggested it could fit. And considering the dimensions of several weapons which looked to match the Cleaver that Number Seven carried around, it indeed seemed likely that this was no ordinary chest.
But while many onlookers studied the weapons that spilled out, Number Four already threw over the second chest, filling the surrounding ground with weapons, though several slid right into a nearby pillar of fire that swallowed those weapons whole but did not let even the charred remains slide out on the other side of the pillar.
The scrawny skeletal masked man looked up to the announcer’s platform. His ribcage of a chest rose and fell rapidly, the man was fuming with anger. Yet the announcer simply ever-so-slightly shook her head, and the man turned back, remaining in place, watching Number Four with even greater rage, by which time Number Four had already walked toward the weapon of his choice.
“My my, not messing around, our little old niece-fucker, is he?” the announcer seemed amused. “Knocking our previous equipment around… I sure hope it’s not because of something I said. Perhaps Number Four was hoping for a different opponent?”
Ignoring the announcer’s chatter, Number Four wasted no time in picking a weapon and sat down on his knees next to a giant spiked metal ball that was lucky enough to roll past the nearby devouring pillar, covering some distance away from its original place of rest.
Bigger than the old man’s balding head, the ball was attached to no chains or handles like a regular flail or morning star would be. A solitary object, it rested on the ground on the support of several long, sharp, pointy spikes. Not a single pointy end looked bent or blunted, despite the serious misuse they suffered, casually rolling across the uneven terrain.
Sitting in his knees, Number Four carefully put the palms of his hands on the ball, putting his fingers between the pointy ends and muttered something inaudibly.
“This is bullshit! How were we supposed to know there’d be someone else participating!?” someone in the crowds complained.
“Hey, that’s right! What about this round’s predictions, ‘Thelicia’?” another man added. “And does that masked bitch plan to participate to the end of the games? What if she ends up winning the whole thing?”
“Concerning the ‘Special Rules’ of this round, miss Ruby is not officially competing in the games!” ‘Thelicia’ quickly explained, seeing and feeling more rising frustrations with the unexpected developments. “Think of miss Ruby as just another *special* obstacle for our participants to pass in order to advance. If they fail, they will die just as they would in a fight against anyone else: unworthy and forgotten.
“There are a few more ‘special’ balls among those with the other participants. Will anyone else be unlucky like Number Four? Or perhaps lucky? Our resident old niece-fucker might turn out to be stronger than he first seemed. Perhaps after a hard-fought, grueling brawl, miss Ruby will be easy pickings should she be drawn a second time? Oh, and speak of the devil!”
With everyone’s attention on Number Four or the announcer, nobody noticed the masked girl appear on a narrow winding path leading to the arena proper until the giant sphere’s screen changed to show the approaching robed, hooded female figure with a white mask obscuring her face.
## 285: Caring Old Uncle Versus Mysterious Masked Girl
“Finally!”
“Alright, let’s go!”
“About time!”
“Did she get lost in the tunnels or something? Move your little ass!”
Miss Ruby’s reception by the crowd was mixed at best. Most participants were savvy enough to understand that the girl spelled trouble. Anyone who was connected to or took part in the organization of this event and would willingly enter the fights with handicap rules had to be either dangerous or incredibly stupid. However, the average spectator would not know or care who this random new girl was. All she accomplished so far was delay the games.
Number Four did not let go of his giant spiky ball of death and continued to chant or channel, or mediate, or something. Nobody except Number Forty could have known for certain.
“What concentration from our resident niece-fucker!” the announcer’s hyping voice reverberated through the mines. “Not only does he not flinch when he sees his opponent approach, he does not even acknowledge her presence! Will this be an unexpected upset? Or is Number Four simply coming to terms with his imminent, bloody death?”
“I gave you plenty of time to prepare,” the white-mask girl said after she stepped on the giant arena platform and walked toward Number Four. “I hope you did not spend it all on your knees praying for a swift end to your shit existence.”
“…” Number Four gave no reply, not even a glance at his opponent.
“Well then, it looks like both duelists are done with pleasantries and ready for some action!” the announcer said. “I must remind you that you cannot use any other weapons than the ones you have now. So, please ignore the ones that Number Four so carelessly scattered around while throwing his little tantrum! The match will end if either of the duelists is killed, or if Number Four survives for five whole minutes. Killing anyone else in the crossfire is strictly forbidden and will be immediately punished by death, please pay attention!”
“Anyone stupid enough to get killed by a stray arrow or something deserves to be dead anyway!” someone in the crowds shouted.
“The opponents are ready! The crowds are most certainly ready! … Begin!”
Number Four thrust the metal ball forward, striking the white-masked girl directly in the head with a savage thud and bouncing upward away in ricochet, sending the girl flying across the arena. She hit the ground, tumbled over several times, and only stopped her rough slide across the rocks at the very edge of the arena.
“Pfft!” the announcer snorted audibly with her enhanced voice. She tried to cover her mouth and nose but ended up placing her hand over her mask to no effect.
And while the announcer seemed amused with the outcome most of the people in the crowds gasped in shock.
“Woah!” Olivia jumped up when she saw the savage hit.
Beatrice could understand Olivia’s amazement as she too did not expect such a drastic development. *Wait, could I survive such a strike? Would I be able to dodge it?* Beatrice hoped she could avoid such a devastating attack, but she could not convince herself she’d be able to dodge a ball that slammed into its target at blinking speed. *Aren’t there too many overpowered people in these games?*
Silence again fell over the arena. The giant viewing orb displayed the robed figure that still lay on the ground, face down. Even the hood of the robe was still over the girl’s head, and it seemed that she managed to keep her head on her shoulders after a blow that should have cleanly decapitated her. Careful viewers also noticed that the figure had one arm stretched out over her head, away from the edge, clasping the grip of her dagger that was driven into the rocks all the way to its cross-guard.
Though the people were shocked by the sudden brutal strike that sent the ‘surprise’ challenger flying across the arena, they were absolutely astonished when that same challenger rose to her feet with not only her head but even with her white mask completely intact. Not cracked, not even a tiny scratch on it. Though her fiery robe was dusty and torn in several places, revealing small glimpses of scale armor underneath.
“Not bad”—the masked girl took a confident step forward—“For a little old shitter! Got any more in you, or was that it?”
For the first time, the old man let his emotions show. They escaped him. The disbelief paled his wrinkly face.
The announcer giggled and asked, “If I put the offer of you having sex with your niece to save your life back on the table, would you consider taking it now?”
## 286: Jump, Bounce, Down, Up
“FUCK OFF!!” the kind old man screamed at the top of his lungs and with a gesture of his hands launched his giant spiky ball of death at the masked hooded figure that approached him, radiating killing intent.
*So, he’s human after all,* Beatrice concluded when the man let his frustration take over.
The second flight of the death ball proved less successful than the first. The masked girl simply dodged to the side as the weapon zapped past her. The ball crashed into one of the straight walls of the mines, less than fifty feet below one of the lesser platforms on which some hundred spectators stood and observed the fight. The crash was powerful enough for the people standing there to notice minor vibrations.
“Oh no!” the announcer exclaimed as if she was worried. “A miss! It looks like in his fit of impotent rage the niece-fucker missed his one chance to kill—”
Another loud blast of metal against metal spread through the arena when the metal ball scored a direct hit against the masked girl’s lower back, sending her flying several feet forward with her back forming an arch around the spot where she was struck.
The ball ricocheted away from the girl, but this time Number Four did not wait for his opponent to recover and with his hands he redirected the spiky ball back at the airborne girl.
BAM! The ball crashed from above, slamming the girl into the ground. Another ricochet, another return. Again and again, Number Four pummeled the girl into the ground. Five, six, seven consecutive strikes into a prone girl, each slower than the last.
*Out of juice,* Beatrice sighed.
Indeed, the eighth strike was far weaker than any previous ones, the metal ball barely ricocheted higher off the ground than a basketball would off a court. The final fall looked to be guided by gravity more than whatever magical force that controlled the sphere before. After the fall the heavy ball did not even bounce—it simply rolled off the motionless figure to the side as any plain heavy metal ball would.
“Most certainly a commendable effort and an impressive ball control!” the announcer commented with a mix of revived excitement and not-so-subtle patronization. “No doubt that a regular citizen of Klapsus would be pummeled into mush! But has he managed to put an end to miss Ru-NO! No, he hasn’t!”
Before Thelicia even finished her sentence, the ball-pounded girl moved her arms. The girl pushed against the ground with both hands and slowly—like someone who had just been knocked down by a direct hit to the head in a game of dodgeball—got back on her feet, looking no worse for wear than possibly suffering from a minor concussion.
“A flying morning star, huh?” Ruby asked as she looked at the weapon that beat her body. “What a strange coincidence! I have something similar to offer!”
Ruby swiftly moved forward her arm and threw her dagger at Number Four. Though surprised, the old man managed to dodge the swift flying dagger just like Ruby dodged his attack. However, while the old man watched his back for an imminent counter-attack, Ruby sprinted to him, ducked, and slammed both open palms of her hands into his chest, blasting the old man high into the air above the arena.
“UNCLE!!” the pale, slender dark magician girl screamed in fear for her uncle’s life.
Number Four flew through the flaming numbers that counted down the five minutes of this round, through the ethereal viewing sphere, momentarily disrupting the image, and flew further up until he slammed into the shadowy ceiling high above the arena.
“Ah! I Need to get used to this,” Ruby muttered as she looked above and watched the old man’s motionless body fall back down.
“Let me see…” Ruby raised her hands, aiming at Number Four’s body that already fell back through the viewing sphere and the flaming numbers and—just some thirty feet over her head—managed to slow the man’s fall, leaving him hovering in the air up above her.
“Miss Ruby is showing impressive control of levitation powers of her own!” Thelicia said. “But isn’t she just levitating a dead body?”
“Only one way to find out,” Ruby said and—holding one hand aimed at Number Four—gestured with her other hand to the side. The next second a dagger flew from the side of the arena and pierced the man’s knee, forcing an agonizing scream from the reawakened man.
____
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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/vauzls/new_life_as_a_lewd_futanari_succubus_ch_284286