Story: Noncon Isekai, Part 8

or
Is It Really Okay To Strip My Cute Party Member Naked??

Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

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Justin’s vision went dark, and was replaced by a distinctly non-realistic image of a tent, with cartoon Zs coming out of it indicating sleep.  A short melody played in his head.

And then suddenly it was daytime again – a little after dawn – and Justin felt a wave of refreshment spread through his body.  It was like he had had a night of incredible sleep – but he had done no such thing.

Dorian was nowhere to be seen, but Amy was sprawled on the ground at the foot of the icon statue, as if she had just been sleeping.  As Justin looked at her, she raised her head – and immediately scowled.

“You again,” she spat.  “I hoped that was just a nightmare.”

She pulled herself up into a sitting position – and then paused.

“I *still* can’t go anywhere,” she said.  She stared at Justin.  “This is your fault.”

Justin shook his head.  “I didn’t choose for this to happen,” he said.  “This is the way your world works.  I’m just here to… fix it.”

She narrowed her eyes.  “Explain it to me,” she said.  “That talking toad was useless.  I have no idea why this is happening – having to run that stupid shop with those weird spells, or… whatever this is now.”

“What do you know?” he asked her.  “How did this start, for you?”

“I woke up one morning, about a week ago,” said Amy, “and I suddenly had the urge to walk to that shop where I met you.  As far as I remember, it used to be just a derelict building, but suddenly it had all that… shop stuff in it.  And there was a costume – the one you saw me in – and I had an overwhelming need to change into it.  And then I just… hung out behind the counter all day.  No one came in except that toad, and when I went home no one seemed to think it was strange I’d been away, even though I hadn’t done my chores.  And I did that every day until you showed up.”

“What about Dorian?” asked Justin.

“He just hopped into the shop and told me that I was a ‘good little wench’ for playing shopkeep, and that I was at the mercy of ‘the fundamental nature of the world’, and that if I was bored in my role I should… masturbate, and think about what a trollop and a whore I was.”  She frowned.  “Which I obviously did NOT do.”

“That’s all?” asked Jake.

“Well, obviously I heard what the toad said to you in the shop,” said Amy.  “That the sorceress Alyra did something to our world, and that you were some kind of hero who was supposed to fix it.  Except you don’t *seem* very heroic.  You asked the toad if you could rape me.  And I don’t know what’s wrong with this world that needs fixing.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” said Jake.  “It’s not *supposed* to be a nice world.  It’s supposed to be a world where women are abused and raped.  And if it’s not fixed, then all of reality will collapse…”

He went on to tell Amy about his encounter with Irene, and everything he had learned about his mission, and how the world had been re-designed based on a videogame from his world.

When it was over, he looked at Amy, waiting for her to soften, and realise that actually he was doing something very necessary that was in her best interests.

But instead she burst out in laughter.

It was the first time he had even seen Amy smile, and her laughter was honestly very attractive – melodic, high-pitched giggles that made her look exceptionally pretty, even if they were directed at Justin.  

“That,” she said, “is the most ridiculous pile of manure that I have ever heard.  I can’t believe you fell for it.”

“No!” objected Justin.  “It’s real!  The world really is based on a videogame – I can see the menus and stat screens and everything.”

“Oh, maybe,” said Amy.  “That’s a strange concept, but… certainly, let’s accept that.  But really, a magic ghost tells you that you have to rape women to save the world, and you just… believe her?  How gullible are you?  Why would you not assume that Alyra was actually doing something good, and that this Irene was the real villain?”

Justin opened his mouth.  He was sure there was a very good answer for Amy.  He just… couldn’t think of what it was right now.

“I’ll tell you why,” said Amy, stabbing a finger towards Justin’s chest.  “You believed it because you *wanted* to believe it.”

She raised her voice into a mocking falsetto.  “Oh, Justin, I know you’re a loser in your home world who can’t get a girl, but we desperately need you to rape as many pretty women as you can so you can be a hero of legend!”

She lowered her voice again.  “Of course you wanted to believe that, you pervert.”

Justin scrambled desperately for a response.

“Okay,” he said, “but I *am* the protagonist.  I’m in control of the party, and I level up, and I get quests.  And that means I’m the good guy.”

“The protagonist is always a good guy in your ‘videogames’?” asked Amy sceptically. 

Justin opened his mouth – and then closed it.  There was, of course, the Blood Hall franchise, where the player took the role of a mass murderer.  And Final Joke, where you were a killer clown.  And the Star Battallion series, where you were theoretically defending Earth but arguably committing genocide against various alien species…

“All right,” said Justin.  “How would I know?  How could I be sure I was on the right side?  If I’m wrong, I’m raping women for no reason, which is terrible.  But if I’m right and I *don’t* rape women then your world is going to end.”

Amy shrugged.  “You’re the protagonist, right?” she said.  “Maybe making tough ethical decisions is part of the role.  Maybe it’s *your* job to figure this out.”  She laughed again.  “I know you didn’t plan on having to take responsibility for your actions, but here we are.”

Justin frowned at her.  “You are an annoying brat, you know that?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and laughed again.

Justin opened the party menu, and removed her clothes.  She squealed, and brought her legs together to protect her cunt, and crossed her hands over her small tits.

“You can have them back when you apologise for being a brat,” he told her.

“I hope you die,” she told him.

He went into the party menu, and set Amy to “follow”.  Then he began to walk back down to the village.

Behind him, Amy stood up and hurried after Justin, until she was a step behind him, and then she began to match his pace.

“This is weird,” she said.  “Stop it.”

“Is it controlling your body to make you walk?” he asked her.  “Or is it making you *want* to walk behind me?”

“The second one,” she said.  “Like… it’s the proper place for me, and it’s just really upsetting to be anywhere else.  I hate it.  Give me my clothes back.”

“Apologise for being a brat,” he said.

“How is it heroic to humiliate me?” she asked.  “Whether you’re right or wrong about this world?”

“It’s not,” said Justin.  “But it’s fun, and honestly I’m okay with being a little bit ethically grey.  Has everyone in town seen your cunt before, or will this be their first time?”

They were getting near the bottom of the hill.  Soon they would be on the village’s main street.

“Stop,” said Amy.  “Stop.”

He didn’t stop.

“Aargh!” she swore.  “Fine!  Fine!  I apologise for being a brat.  I’m sorry, all right?”

“Much better,” said Justin, smiling.  He opened the party member and restored her clothes.

“Do you have anything nicer than this?” he asked her.  “Where’s that witch dress you wore at the shop?”

“Where do you think it is?” asked Amy.

He removed her clothes again.

“I *will* kill you, when I work out how,” hissed Amy.

He walked towards town.

“I’m sorry,” said Amy.  “I’m sorry for being a brat.”

“For being a disrespectful cunt,” corrected Justin.

“I’m sorry for being a disrespectful cunt,” said Amy quietly.  Justin wasn’t looking at her, but he could *hear* her pouting.

He gave her her clothes back.

“The costume is at the store,” said Amy.

“What about at your house?” asked Justin.  “Do you have stuff there?”

“We don’t need to go to my house,” said Amy, very quickly.  Too quickly.

“That wasn’t the question, Amy,” said Justin.  “If I have to take your clothes away again, I’m going to leave you naked as we walk through town so that you learn your lesson.”

“Yes,” said Amy, frustrated.  “I have other clothes at my house.  But please… *please*… let’s not go there.  We can get the witch costume from the shop.  That will be enough.”

Justin said nothing.

“You horse’s ass,” spat Amy.  “*Please*.  Seriously.  I’ll.. be good.  I’ll avoid being a brat, or a cunt, if you just *listen* to me.  We don’t need to go to my house.”

“I think we do,” said Justin.  “Where is it?”

Amy tried to keep her mouth shut.

“Don’t you have to obey my reasonable commands?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she conceded, quietly.  “It’s a shack, down by the river.  Take the road south out of town and when you pass around a small hill you’ll see a bridge, and the river, and my house is just down a bit from the bridge.”

“And why don’t you want to go there?” asked Justin.

There was no reply from Amy.  When he looked at her, he saw her eyes were big and wide, on the edge of tears.

“Tell me why,” he said, “and maybe we won’t go there.”

She shook her head – a small, desperate movement.

“I could command you,” he said.

She said nothing.

“Fine,” he said.  “Let’s go find out.”

They walked down to the main road, and then followed Amy’s directions to lead them out of town, and around the edge of a low hill.

There it was, just as Amy had described – a small river, maybe ten metres across, which flowed beneath an old wooden footbridge.  A little way down from the bridge was a dilapidated shack, about the same size as a caravan trailer in Justin’s world.

Standing outside the shack was a burly young man, maybe 20 years of age, wearing a simple vest and leggings.  His well-muscled arms were bare, and his skin was dirty.  From the fishing line and bucket he was carrying, he had just been engaged in extracting fish from the river.

“Well, well, well,” he said.  “If it isn’t little Cuntblossom.  Back again to take her medicine.”

“Don’t *call* me that, Gavvard,” cursed Amy.

“Who’s the boy with you, Cuntblossom?” said Gavvard.  “Did you find someone to fuck?  Did you decide your stepbrother wasn’t good enough for you?”

“You’re not good enough to fuck a *pig*, Gavvard,” sneered Amy.

“What’s going on here?” asked Justin.  “Amy, who is this?”

“It’s my skunk of a stepbrother, Gavvard,” said Amy.  “Who has the opinion that he’s in charge of my life, ever since our father passed away.”

“I *am* in charge of your life, you disrespectful little cunt,” said Gavvard.  “I bring food to our table.  What do you do?  Vanish away during the day to who-knows-where?  Parade around the house in your little slut tunic and flash your panties at me?”

Gavvard looked at Justin.  “You know what she did last night?  Ran out of the house to hide, rather than take her well-deserved spanking.  Look at her, and tell me you’ve ever seen a cunt who didn’t need a spanking as badly as this one.”

Justin had to admit that a spanking might improve Amy’s temperament.

“Are you ready to take your medicine now, Cuntblossom?” asked Gavvard.

Amy looked up at Justin.

Everything seemed to pause.

“Ahem,” said a voice, and Justin looked to his left to see Dorian perched on an old log by the river.  “If I might explain some concepts.”

Neither Amy nor Gavvard seemed to have noticed Dorian.  They were – not frozen, exactly, but in a kind of holding pattern.  Waiting for him to respond.  Waiting for him to make a choice.

“Cuntblossom’s tow-headed step-brother here, Gavvard, would very much like to rape her,” said Dorian.  “He’s been harbouring that fantasy for some time.  In the ordinary course of the world, he would have acted on that instinct some time ago, any Amy would have been bouncing on her step-brother’s cock every night and sucking it every morning, with judicious spanking and face-slapping used to keep her in line.”

Dorian cleared his throat.  “However,” he continued, “the sorceress Alyra’s spell has transfigured the world in a way that aligns it somewhat more with the interests of Cuntblossom.  Familial rape is quite out of the question under the new order, and so Gavvard has been dealing with his fantasies by way of a quick wank into his step-sister’s stolen panties and a heavy dose of physical discipline.”

“What does this mean for me?” asked Justin.

“If you tell Gavvard to keep his hands off Cuntblossom,” said Dorian, “then you will be upholding Alyra’s order.  He will reluctantly back down, and you can retrieve such clothes and equipment for Cuntblossom as you require, and then never see Gavvard again.”

“Or?” asked Justin.

“Or you can provoke the situation,” said Dorian.  “Give Gavvard just that little bit more encouragement to rape his step-sister, which will break the local bonds of Alyra’s spell, and allow a somewhat more… interesting encounter to play out.”  Dorian coughed.  “Obviously undermining Alyra’s spell is of benefit to your quest generally, but there may also be more… personal benefits in such an outcome.”

“It’s my choice?” asked Justin.

“You are the only one who truly *can* choose,” said Dorian.

Justin took a deep breath.  He looked at Amy.  She was gazing up at him with wide, desperate eyes, looking for protection, despite all the time she had told him she hated him.

He looked at Gavvard, practically leering at his stepsister.  Justin could see an erection tenting Gavvard’s pants as Gavvard stared at his stepsister’s panties.

Justin looked back at Amy.

“You should have been honest and told me why you didn’t want to come here,” he told her.

Then he opened the party menu and removed Amy’s clothes.

“I think she *does* need a spanking,” he said to Gavvard.  “And not just a spanking – a *cunt* spanking.  Don’t you?”

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