Ko-fi Follow-up to: Mature Content It was the family D&D night again - autocloset-augmented as usual.

“The stone giant archer raises his ballista and fires at dad… and rolls a 34…” My family crane forward expectantly. Seated next to me in the body of his elven priestess, dad is being particularly attentive tonight - not just his bright blue eyes twinkling away, but particularly the elven hand attending to my cock beneath the table. He dressed for the part tonight, draped himself in a diaphanous gown that clings to his breasts, the silk lace of which tickles my shaft with each soft stroke of his hand.

I cleara dry throat, trying to keep my voice steady. “... the ballista bolts streaks past dad’s pointy ear and strikes Rognar in the eye… It deals… 67 damage... Ragnar dies.”

“That’s bullshit!” my brother Clive roars, hammering the table with his meaty half-orc barbarian fists. The board pieces and dice scatter under the impact.

“Th-that’s just what the rules say,” I lie weakly.

“I’m sure those are the rules if your brother says so,” mom soothes, her warty dwarven nose jutting just above the far end of the table.

Clive rises from his seat, his thick monobrow furrowed in a murderous scowl. “Don’t think I don’t see what’s going on here,” he snarls at us.

Dad smiles smugly, though I rather wish he’d pause his tender ministrations. Focusing on not blowing my load is hard enough without orcish death staring me in the face. Clive cranes over the table, his scarred, green-skinned visage inches f rom mine. Gnarled hands like spatchcocks reach for me… and pluck one of the blank character sheets from the pile.

With a gnash of his tusks, Clive stomps upstairs. His heavy footfalls can be heard approaching the autocloset. There’s a clatter of his breastplate hitting the floor. Soon the house lights flicker and dim as the autlocloset begins to draw power.

The closet works on him for a long time. As I’m packing away the sheets and pieces at the end of the session, I hear the microwave like ‘ding’ from upstairs as it disgorges the finished product. He sends a text.

“Wanna bet this new character lasts longer than my last three, bro? 😤😣”