Gestalt Sorceress

   Mike angrily hammered at his keyboard. He was winning this argument and he could feel it. His latest post about why elves were all whores was going to fill four posts and be heavily cross-referenced to existing fiction and rulebooks. Mike smiled happily to himself as he savored the moment. He scrolled through his reaction image folder for something suitably scathing to attach to his first post to further destroy his online opponent.

   And that's when Mike's computer, as well as those of many other people across the world, erupted into a multicolored vortex which sucked him into the monitor.

***

   "So, just to make this absolutely clear, do you have any idea of what you've just done?" Abir the Magnificent, archmagus and regional director of trans-dimensional migration asked sternly.

   "Yes sir. I do." Marl the Minor responded, shuffling his feet nervously.

   "Due to either gross negligence or plain incompetence you vastly over calculated the amount of daemonic powder that was going into the current summoning, resulting in an explosive thaumaturgy chain reaction which ran out of control in seconds." Abir continued, squinting at the report for the sixteenth time.

   "Yes sir." Marl said, feeling the noose close around his neck with every word of his boss.

   "As a result of this error, the 10:00 ritual to summon a new champion for our world misfired and hit our designated summoning target with several hundred times the necessary magical energy required to summon a human from that world. The spell ran wild and spread like wildfire and did not stop with our chosen target but instead pulled over two -hundred- humans from that world here. Is this correct, junior thaumaturgist Marl?"

   "Y-yes sir. B-but..."

   "Silence! Over two hundred individual humans who were all communicating with the target through this ..." Abir checked his papers. "...this 'massage bard' of theirs, were -all- drawn into the dimensional vortex and -all- ended up in the transdimensional transmutator unit. Is this correct, Marl?"

   "Y-yes sir, but I insist t-that..."

   "SILENCE! At approximately 10:02 the transmutator in turn overloaded and integrated the mass of humans into one single champion, who was then as is customary deposited in the wilderness near a small village with a tavern to facilitate integration and potential world-saving adventures. Over two hundred earthlings, Marl. In the body of one champion. Let loose on the land. This is a disaster. A huge waste of magical energy, manpower and human life. And you're responsible, aren't you?" Abir's voice now had a tone of finality.

   "I am sir. And I am sorry." Marl hung his head, waiting for the inevitable.

   "Junior thaumaturgist Marl, I'm afraid I have no choice but to suspend your monthly bonus -and- your weekend privileges for the next month."

   "But sir! You c-can't!" Marl shouted.

   "It's done. Now get back to your post before I really lose my temper!"

  Marl shuffled out of his boss' office as soon as he could, hitching up his robes to run down the corridor as fast as his scrawny legs could carry him.

***

   "Now let me tell you why that's bullshit! Well, as you know, the feudal system is built on a system of vassals who each are responsible for their regions, keeping commoners in check with force of arms. Well! This only leads to- What the fuck does that even have to do with this? We're on a quest here, we're not trying to start a revolution. Well maybe we should? After all, industrialization is easily achievable if..."

   Branx the warrior and Stonetoe the dwarf looked at each other uncomfortably. Their new adventuring companion seemed like a capable and confident sorceress, but they sincerely questioned her mental state sometimes. While often being quiet and taciturn, occasionally she just broke out into long rants, sometimes in very different tones of voice. If the two hadn't been so hard-pressed to find a spellcaster for their journey they probably would have politely told her that they had reconsidered.

   Jamila the Sorceress sat on a log, her long legs stretched out in front of her. She was very beautiful with her long dark hair fluttering down to mid-back and eyes like dark pools, and her skimpy two-piece outfit complete with fluttering cape did little to hide that fact. She had simply walked into the Golden Hind inn one day, asking if there were any adventuring parties looking for new members, and then rapidly almost become deluged with offers both real and quickly invented. Branx and Stonetoe had managed to convince the beautiful young woman to their cause, mostly based on her looks.

   "And another thing... elves. If I see another pointy-eared tree-hugging shit I'm going to fry their ass with a fireball. Are you even listening to me?" Jamila snapped.

   "Oh aye, aye!" Stonetoe sputtered. "It's just that... well. What do all these things 'ave to do with finding the bandits robbing everyone?"

   "Bandi... oh. Oh yes. Of course. Bandits. Yes. We're-I'm sure we'll find them and rout them decisively!" Jamila said, quickly slipping into what Branx and Stonetoe thought of as her 'regular' voice.

   "So. Anyway" Branx began cautiously. "You've scryed where the bandits are camping so all we need to do is wait for morning and then stage an attack. They've been out robbing all evening most likely and will be exhausted."

   "But lad, how do we breach the camp?" Stonetoe asked. "They've likely got guards at all times, an' maybe dogs or worse..."

   "Maybe an invisibility spell from our sorceress friend?"

   "Invisibility is seriously overpowered in 3.X" Jamila added helpfully.

   "Or we could just run up and bash 'em" Stonetoe suggested.

   "I have a plan!" Jamila suddenly chirped.

***

   The human and dwarf were concealed inside a large shrubbery with a view of the edge of the bandit camp. It was a nice morning, with the chirping of birds and warm sunlight trickling down between the massive trees. The perfect morning for some bloody carnage to secure local trade routes, in fact. But right now, Branx and Stonetoe were more concerned with Jamila's plan. They had both balked when she had suggested it, and though neither had objected, they were sure she wasn't serious. What kind of woman was this sorceress who constantly talked to herself and changed her mind as quickly as a leaf changes direction in the wind? However both man and dwarf were now way too curious to back off and think of something else. Even if Jamila wasn't going through with what she'd suggested the day before, this would be worth it.

   Suddenly there was a faint swishing noise. The bandit sentry, a young man with a sparse and downy beard and a set of oversized armor, was standing at his post near a massive oak tree to the right of Branx and Stonetoe's hiding place. The young man stared up, and the two adventurers followed his line of sight to see Jamila floating down through the air, her cloak and streaming sash fluttering behind her. With the morning light behind her and her hair billowing in the gentle breeze, she looked like a supernatural vision of beauty. The young guard gawked and his jaw fell open into a moronic expression, and neither Branx nor Stonetoe could help but feel a powerful erection growing as well.

   They were a bit too far to hear what words Jamila spoke to the bandit guard, but they were followed by the sorceress letting herself fall down and forward, tackling the youth into a shrubbery. The two adventurers waited for a bit while their arousal slowly died down before Jamila popped up from the shrubbery again, giving them a thumbs-up. They quickly rushed over to where she was hunched down next to the bush. As they approached, Jamila wiped something from her mouth.

   "Natural 20 on my seduction roll!" she hissed to her companions, who just looked at her in confusion.

  "Well, keep going!" Branx whispered. "We need to get in before anyone notices this guy isn't at his post!"

   "Right" Jamila said in a much too chipper way, and lifted off the ground to float into the bandit camp.

   Branx and Stonetoe snuck after her as well as they could in their heavy armor, keeping an eye out for more guards. Jamila floated into the center of the improvised bandit camp, landing between the crappy tents and strewn bedrolls as gently as a feather. An arrow launched through the air at the sorceress, but recoiled from an invisible barrier before it could impact. Jamila gave a smile to her unseen attacker and leaned over to blow a kiss into the air. As bleary-eyed bandits scrambled from their sleeping places, Jamila began dancing slowly and seductively, still hovering about a foot over the ground. She waved her fingers and music began playing softly to create a rhythm for her gyrations. The bandits were quickly fixated.

   As she spun in the air, limber legs twisting and turning, Jamila slowly began discarding her garments, beginning by dropping her jewelry to the ground. Branx and Stonetoe took up position behind another large tree, and both could barely keep themselves from drooling as they watched. Jamila was spinning and dancing, shaking her bountiful assets to the ghostly music. The bandits followed every scrap of clothing or piece of jewelry that fell to the ground, and soon even the ones standing guard had walked sheepishly up to gawk at the scene, their weapons forgotten in their hands. Soon the sorceress was naked, showing her exotic body perfectly as she brought the dance to a frenetic crescendo.

   As she sank to the ground naked and sweaty, Jamila looked up at the bandits surrounding her. She scrambled onto her back, giving them a full view of her heaving breasts and inviting sex.

   "Well? Aren't you boys coming?" She whispered in a throaty voice.

   The bandits did not need to be invited a second time.

***

   Only a few bandits had had the strength to resist when Branx and Stonetoe rushed in. Most were collapsed in gibbering piles, their dicks still leaking steaming cum from their sessions with Jamila. Branx was impressed by the wide variety of acts the sorceress had managed to squeeze into such a short time. Oral, vaginal, anal, doggy-style, on her back, on her belly, sandwiched, spitroasted... Every single one of the bandits had gotten their turn, been made to cum, and then been forced aside by their companions. And now the survivors were dragged off in shackles by the local soldiers alerted by the heroic trio, leaving them alone in the camp.

   "That was fucking gross, what the fuck is wrong with you guys?" Jamila mumbled. "Oh my god what a fucking prude you are. Waaah waah waah sex is bad! Keep the bad sex away please! Come on it's not just sex it's -us- having sex! How gay are you fuckers? Gay? If you haven't noticed, Keith, we're a beautiful woman now. It's not gay. I hate you. I hope you get our vagina filled with fucking spiders so nobody will ever touch us again."

   Branx and Stonetoe stared at each other uncomfortably, something that had virtually become a ritual by now. Jamila was sitting next to the bandits' campfire, wearing only her thong and bra. Her hair was still matted with sweat and covered in sticky semen, and her lovely body was stained with drying spatters of white all over.

   "So uh, lass, are ye alright there?" Stonetoe offered. "Ye seem a bit rattled."

   "Rat- Oh. Hi! No no no, we're- I'm fine. Just a bit tired after all that." Jamila chirped in her 'default' voice.

   "Uh-huh. Well. I guess that ties up these bandit raids. I must admit that was some impressive techniques you displayed there, milady."

   Jamila looked up at Branx, her eyes narrowing.

   "What?" the warrior asked.

   "Why haven't you tried to rape me yet?" Jamila asked.

   "What? What in th- wh- Why would I do that?" Branx sputtered, blushing as he remembered toying with the idea of such a scenario and finding it arousing.

   "Do you guys think we're ugly?" Jamila pouted.

   "No!" Stonetoe and Branx chimed.

   "Are you gay? Like show me your honor, that whole thing?"

   "No!"

   "Then why the fuck haven't you two raped us yet? We've been out adventuring for like three whole days now. No sudden sexual assault, no pushing us up against a tree and impaling us on your powerful spears, no clubbing us over the head and using us as a sex toy..." Jamila seemed to be almost breaking down as she spoke. "W-what's wrong with us? Are we ugly? Is it the impractical armor? Cuz I said we wouldn't get popular if we wore that shit. Shut the fuck up Rick, I'm so tired of th- What's wrong with us!"

   Branx and Stonetoe were quiet for a while as Jamila blubbered into a corner of her cloak that she'd picked up from the ground.

   "Ehm, look here. Jamila. We like you and all, but being adventurers doesn't automatically mean you fuck anything and everything." Branx started.

   "Ye, bad practice it is" Stonetoe nodded. "Professional detachment and all that. Save the whoring for buying whores in town."

   Jamila sniffled and bawled even more at this, blowing her dainty nose into her cloak.

   "Look... uh. We could have sex if you wanted. Just... please don't cry." Branx said.

   "Are you... are you sure?" Jamila said, looking up with tear-filled eyes. "No Bluff roll?"

   "Sure" Stonetoe added. "We can fuck ye right now if it just makes ye feel better, lass. Yer pretty as they come, at least fer a human."

   "Yay!" Jamila cheered, throwing her cloak to the ground and jumping to her feet. "We can pretend it's rape, right?"

    "If it makes you happy?" Branx said, suddenly aware of the absurdity of the situation.

   "Awesome!"

   As Branx and Stonetoe began undressing, they once again wondered what they'd gotten themselves into.

***

   "We're monitoring her progress still?" Abir said, staring at the crystal ball.

   The magical sphere was showing a somewhat blurry image of a busty woman apparently being fucked by a group of kobolds, clambering over her like ants.

   "Yes sir. So far we have recorded her fucking 11 bandits, 23 kobolds, 3 centaurs, 8 orcs, 1 owlbear, 15 goblins, 6 bugbears, 1 gelatinous cube..." the junior monitor mage droned.

   "What, no elves?" Abir inquired.

   "No sir."

   "Regular, wood, grey?"

   "None."

   "Not even any drow?"

   "None, sir. She seems to really hate elves for some reason."

   "Huh, well. Keep an eye on her"

   "I can honestly say, sir, that won't be a problem".

   As Abir walked away from the monitoring station he pondered whether this accident had actually turned out better than expected. He wondered how the new champion felt about non-elf wizards.