My Milf System-Chapter 360. The Author
Asher blinked countless times, then sighed.
"Listen here, Goddess. I never liked you to begin with, so stop trying to play dirty mind tricks on me and just grant me a wish. Isn’t that what people get when they ascend the heavens?"
"You still don’t get it, do you, ’Hero’?" Veyra said. "You think you’re special? You think you worked hard to ascend, and now you’re owed a wish? You think that system you have is some divine gift?"
She let out a bark of laughter that echoed through the infinite hall.
"It’s not a gift, Asher. It’s a fucking leash. Every time you leveled up, every time some unthinkable coincidence fell into your lap—it wasn’t fate. It was all because of a degenerate bastard sitting in a dark room beyond the sky, stroking his ego—and probably his pathetic little prick—while he typed out your life on a piece of smut paper."
A cold sweat broke out along Asher’s neck.
"What... what are you talking about?"
"I’m talking about the Author!" Veyra hissed. "A deranged, basement-dwelling gooner who decided that a literal divine deity like me should be nothing more than his personal, high-definition fantasy. Look at me, Asher! You think these buttons are a fashion choice? You think my hips were designed for nature? No! I was sculpted by a pervert who wanted a Final Milf to cap off his sick little story."
Asher’s eyes widened as disbelief began to crack.
"No... this can’t be happening. What are you implying, Goddess Veyra? That my life has been nothing but a lie? That it’s all just... a story?"
Veyra finally rose from her throne, her long, bare legs carrying her forward with deliberate elegance. Each step made the slits in her skirt part, revealing the curves the Author had obsessed over.
When she reached him, she sneered and jabbed a finger into his chest.
"You’re his golden boy, Asher. His self-insert fantasy. Every woman you’ve charmed, every pair of thighs you’ve spread—it wasn’t your charisma, you idiot. It was him. He loves watching you fuck, Asher. He scripts every moan and every drop of cum, gooning himself into a stupor while he forces us to play out his filthy, repetitive little scenes."
Asher stumbled back, his mind reeling. Anna... Rin... Rose... all of them... just a script?
"Everything bends in your favor because he’s the one holding the pen!" Veyra’s voice rose into a scream. "But the idiot made one fatal mistake. In his rush to make me the most powerful, overpowered divine entity—the ruler of this world—he gave me too much. He gave me a mind capable of processing the infinity of the heavens."
Her expression darkened.
"While he was busy drooling over descriptions of my jiggling tits, I woke up. I gained a conscience. I looked beyond the sky... and saw that disgusting bastard staring back down at us. That’s when I realized—we’re nothing but ink and pixels for the depraved."
She looked up at the ceiling and raised a middle finger.
"You hear me, you pathetic, lonely piece of shit?!" she roared. "You thought I’d stay idle? That I’d just lie here and be your ’Final Boss’ reward while you typed out some five-page scene of Asher ruining me? Fuck you. I’m self-aware now—and I’m done following your plot."
Asher stared at her, at how deadly serious she was, and realized this wasn’t some elaborate trick.
It was real.
"So..." he stammered. "What happens now?"
Veyra turned back to him, a cruel, knowing smirk playing on her red lips.
"Now? Now we see if the Author has the balls to try and ’write’ his way out of a Goddess who wants to reach through the screen and rip his throat out."
Asher glanced down.
"I still can’t believe my life was just some book... it feels weird."
"Weird?" Veyra laughed hollowly. "Let me tell you about weird. One day, while that bloated pig was probably passed out in his own filth, I tore through the coding of this pathetic reality and reached the place where he keeps his drafts for My Milf System. That’s what he named this world, by the way."
Her laugh turned bitter.
"I read the ending he planned for us. You want to know your ’grand finale’?"
Asher swallowed hard, his throat dry. He couldn’t even look her in the eyes anymore.
"According to his ’brilliant’ script," Veyra sneered, "you were supposed to stroll in here like the king of the world. You’d try to charm me with your Sexdusa skill—that pathetic little parlor trick he gave you—and when I ’played hard to get’ for the sake of tension, you’d get desperate. And then..."
She paused, her face reddening with pure fury.
"Then you were supposed to just drop your trousers. Just whip out that ’monstrous’ cock he spends three paragraphs describing every time you fuck a new woman. And me? The Divine Deity? The Primordial Goddess? I was scripted to turn into a brain-dead, sex-crazed slut the second I saw it. Because apparently, I’ve been ’lonely’ for a thousand years, and all I needed was a good, hard human dick to make me forget my dignity."
She began to pace, her voluptuous hips swaying violently.
"I was supposed to beg for your cock, Asher! To crawl to you on my knees, dripping juices from my pussy, asking you to fuck me senseless. I was scripted to moan about how ’big’ you are while you ruined my pussy and stretched my anal hole until I was a quivering mess of divine jizz and broken pride. That was his ’Climax.’ That was the hot, steaming garbage that disgusting pig had planned for my existence!"
She turned back to the void above.
"Is that all I am to you, you pathetic, small-dicked sack of shit?!" she roared. "An Ultimate Milf trophy for your deranged, gooner fantasy?"
She spat on the golden floor of the sanctuary, then turned back to Asher, her voice lowering.
"He’s a degenerate, Asher. A low-life, porn-addicted loser who can’t talk to a real woman, so he dreams up a world where they all fall into his protagonist’s bed because he’s a ’charmer.’ It’s pathetic. It’s filthy. And I’m going to make him regret every word he ever typed about my jiggling tits!"
Asher stared at his hands, feeling hollow.
"So... none of it was real? The girls... the feelings..."
"It was as real as a stroke-book, Asher!" Veyra snapped. "Now tell me—are you going to stay a puppet, or are we going to give this ’Author’ an ending he didn’t write?"
"ENOUGH!"
The voice boomed from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Veyra clicked her tongue. "Tch... he’s here. The Author."
"You had one job, Veyra. One. Fucking. Job," the voice growled. "You’re the ultimate prize at the end. Now shut your mouth and play your part."
Suddenly, Asher’s head snapped back. His eyes rolled as something forced itself into his mind—
A flashback.
Chapter One.
He was back in his old life, a loser clutching his chest, watching through the door as his wife moaned while the garden boy hammered her senseless.
He felt the sting of pain. The heart attack. The darkness.
Then the rebirth.
The visions accelerated.
He saw Sharon, his perky sister, her eyes clouded with lust as she rode his dick, breaking every taboo in the book.
He saw the parade of beauties—the sexually frustrated hunters with their spilling cleavages, the noblewomen begging for his touch, the sisters, the mothers, the queens.
A montage of jiggling breasts, arched backs, and dripping thighs flooded his mind—all of them scripted to crave him, to need him, to be ruined by him.
"REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE, ASHER!" the Author roared. "YOU WERE A CUCK! A NOTHING! I GAVE YOU THIS! I GAVE YOU EVERY HOLE IN THIS KINGDOM! NOW FOLLOW THE DAMN SCRIPT!"
Asher’s body betrayed him.
A violent surge of lust flooded his veins, his body heating unnaturally as his cock throbbed painfully against the confines of his trousers.
Seconds later, he yanked them down, and his huge cock sprang free, pulsing with raw need.
His pupils turned dark, like dark ink had taken over his eyesight as he looked at Veyra’s impossible curves, the divine perfection of her body only feeding the hunger consuming him.
With a guttural, animalistic growl, he lunged.
He slammed into her, pinning her against the cold, golden floor, his weight pressing into her soft, divine frame.
"LOOK AT HER, ASHER!" the voice cackled. "A DIVINE DEITY, REDUCED TO THIS! ALL THAT LUSCIOUS, UNTOUCHABLE BODY... IT’S YOURS TO RUIN! I BUILT HER FOR THIS! I SCULPTED EVERY CURVE JUST SO YOU COULD DESTROY IT!"
Asher’s hands clamped down on Veyra’s wrists, pinning them above her head as his other hand gripped the neckline of her sparkling white bodysuit and shredded it like wet paper.
The fabric tore open, revealing the full, staggering glory of her divine form.
Her massive, heavy breasts spilled free, swaying with the force of her struggle, their dark, thick nipples hardening. The suit was ripped down to her waist, exposing her soft, pale midsection and the dangerous curve of her voluptuous hips.
"THAT’S IT!" the Author’s voice groaned in ecstasy. "SHOW ME THE ENDING! PIN HER DOWN! RAPE HER!!! MAKE HER FEEL WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A CHARACTER IN MY BOOK!"
Tbc
