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This story is the sequel of “Erotic Larping” – coming after it chronologically, but the story is standalone in the same universe.

This one has a little less (but still some) impregnation fetish, has a few more mentions of homosexuality (but still no screen time) and really plays with different themes – so if you liked one you might not like the other. Ah well. I hope it moves your cock.


At home Evan was a video game designer, home gardener, and avid cat dad. He lived with his girlfriend in a suburban house and spent his days gaming, watching TV, and leafing through seed catalogs. Eight times a year that changed. Evan became a Protean legend.

“Hey! It’s the Singlehanded! Good to see you Evan!” Mark, a muscled hunk of a man in a steel breastplate over a leather jacket, was pulling his bags off his motorcycle. He pulled a foam sword from its sheath and banged it against his chest in a sign of respect. His wife, Mia, sliding off her own motorcycle, pulled her axe and shield from her panniers and copied the gesture. As attention turned, the entire parking lot of over 200 people paused their conversations to bang a weapon. Evan pumped a fist at the crowd.

“Singlehanded!” someone shouted. Others echoed.

“What’s going on?” Bill, a newcomer asked.

“I’ll tell you the whole story tonight.” Mary, a cute bespectacled woman who had become his impromptu guide, assured him.


“Most of you already know the drill, but we have some newcomers, and it never hurts to review,” Marie, stood as tall as her 5 ft would allow, and the crowd turned its full attention to her.

“Let’s start by separating out into Village-folk and Wildfolk. Village folk will live in our fantastic recreated medieval village. Wildfolk rough it in the woods outside. This year Village folk will get workshops in cheese making, wool shearing, honey gathering, weaving, basketmaking, and pottery.”

“Wildfolk will have the normal workshops on primitive fire, using every part of an animal, flint knapping, foraging, and this year a drumming class.”

The groups separated out.

“What if we want to do both?” Bill asked.

“Oh, you’ll flipflop between the two groups. If you die in the story you reincarnate on the other side.”

“As this is one of our erotic Larps – we have some specific rules.”

“First, if you haven’t already turned in your doctor’s certificate that you are clean of STD’s please do so at the registration counter.”

“Next everyone is going to wear a ribbon” – she gestured to her own gold ribbon. “Gold means a moderator. We are completely off limits while wearing a gold ribbon. Always obey our directions.”

She continued. “Red ribbon: You’re potentially up for anything. Orange ribbon: You’re good with anything as long as it’s opposite sex. Yellow Ribbon: You’re good with anything as long as it’s same sex. Green ribbon: Keep it consensual but interested in everybody. Blue ribbon keep it consensual but opposite sex only. Violet ribbon consensual only but same sex only.”

She paused. “Everyone got that?” several people laughed. “If you mix these up the person wearing them can correct you. The one I want to stick in your mind is silver: playing, but off limits for sexual play.”

“You can change ribbons at any time. Maybe you were wearing red, and you got gangbanged and now every hole in your body hurts.” She paused to wink “And you just want to take it easy for a bit – come get a silver ribbon.”

“Stop, no, don’t – are all words we use in our roleplay. We have only a single safe word which everyone uses, which is ‘Pause game.’ The universal symbol for this is,” here she raised her hands to form a T, “The times gesture. I hope you’re all familiar.”

“What I hope, is that we can make space here for a lot of different roleplay, depending on what you’re into. This is roleplay that includes the erotic, as opposed to specifically erotic roleplay. I hope that we can have romance, affairs, incest, honeymoons, abuse, rape, and every combination thereof, all coexisting in a roleplay that maintains a good story and a truly midieval context.”


Bill bahis siteleri was now B’aku, dressed in skins with a violet ribbon around his forehead. Mary was bare breasted Avanka, red ribbon serving as a belt around her waist to hold up her otter pelt skirt. They crouched around the wildfolk fire roasting raccoon over the dancing coals.

The wildfolk camp had around a hundred people, more men than women, gathered around a collection of fires. Here the erotic was commonplace and easy. A woman softly took her lovers cock in her mouth, cheek resting lovingly on his fox fur leggings. A man gave a woman a massage that included her breasts and butt. Pusies peeked from bewtween buckskin covered thighs, and cocks pushed from under loincloths. People laughed and tore into meat and danced to flickering fire light and far off stars.

“Listen!” Avanka hissed, rising, hips gyrating, pulling their attention in. “Listen and I will tell you the story of Singlehanded.”


It had been an erotic larp like this one. Beginning much the same. It had been Evan’s first erotic larp and he had been playing it safe with a blue ribbon. The second day had dawned wet and cold and the entire wildfolk camp had decided to raid the village en masse. Evan had gotten sick, and sat alone by the fire as everyone else went off.

What they hadn’t counted on, was that the village had an archery class going, and most of the villagers had bows in hand when, whooping and yelling, the wildfolk charged at the wall. The defense had been instantaneous and effective. Foam tipped arrows rained from the sky and the entire wildfolk camp was killed on the second day. Everyone but Evan.

The villagers, realizing that the wildfolk camp would be empty, sent a party in and raided everything. Evan, hearing them coming, climbed a tree and stayed hidden until they left. No food, no shelter, wet, cold, and congested he made himself a debris hut. The moderators came and asked if he wanted to just come and join the village – who, forgetting about him, had called total victory. He refused.


“All alone. Every other wildfolk dead. Our tribe destroyed. Singlehanded forged his plan.”


The third day Evan got to work, creating a new camp in a secret location, out of range of the village. He also circled the village, setting up traps. That night he made his first foray into the village. Nothing was guarded. They had forgotten about him.

As he snuck through the square he happened on Mia, peeing outside her house where she and Mark were a happy family. She froze when, rising and dropping her skirts, she felt his foam knife at her throat. The swaddled doll she was larping as her baby lay on the grass beside her. Evan picked it up.

“If you want your child to live, you will do exactly as I ask.”

She nodded.

One by one she went and roused the other women. There was something magical that only women should see. Come. Don’t wake your menfolk. On silent feet they went out into the grass beyond the edge of the village. In their minds it was safe. The wildfolk were gone.

Evan gathered what supplies he could. He set traps at the doorsteps of some of the most canny warriors, and left a note at the water supply that he had pooped in it. Then he followed the women out. Away from the village he stepped into the moonlight.

“I am Askei, Singlehanded founder of a new clan. Warlord of the wildfolk. If you scream or run or resist I will kill you. If you escape, I will kill another in your place.”

The women looked at him open mouthed, all 86 of them. None of them had thought to grab weapons. The wildfolk were dead.

Jhoreesha, wearing her yellow ribbon, and quickly gathering where this was going, made a break for it. Evan raised his blowpipe and nailed her on the back of the head with a foam dart. “Anyone else?” He asked.

The whole troup made their way to his secret camp. Grasping what Joreesha had, the other three exclusively gay girls found some way to be examples for him to kill and headed off to plot for their wildfolk garb. They returned as wildfolk who had been traveling, and canlı bahis siteleri had come back to find their encampment destroyed. Evan brought them in as guards and accomplices.

With a brief pause in game to assess, Evan found that most of the women in the “consensual only” categories were game, turned on by the confidence and audacity of what Evan had done.

And so, in camp, as the men of the village began trying to pursue, and again and again ran into noisemaker traps with things written on the other side like “This drove a spike through your foot” – and hobbled back to the village, Evan began to make his way through the pussies of 78 women. With a guard overseeing he made them all kneel, pussy up, legs spread, skirts above their hips. The wildfolk women who weren’t currently guarding circulated “getting ready” those who’s ribbons made that possible. Evan began by making a round, cock into each woman, a few thrusts, and then on to the next. It was less for pleasure, and more about power. He wanted to look at every woman in camp. Every woman he’d ever been attracted to here, and share in their locked eyes the knowledge that he had been inside her, and moved on.

After that he went a little slower, taking ten women at a time, roleplaying cumming in each of their pussies with endless potency, until he finally would cum inside one of them and have to stop for a bit.

He took these pauses to scout, create false trails, reset traps, and nail any number of men, always in the leg, with his blow darts. He took them out in ones and twos, never engaging large groups, and never killing.

Returning he would gather a new set and go about it again, making sure that those who were into it got attention from each other when he wasn’t inside them – now that his initial power play was over. He found himself fascinated by the subtleties of difference between vulvas, the different shapes and sizes, colors and textures of pubic hair, and the differences in wetness and depth of the vaginas he entered one after another.

Over the course of the week he pretended to ejaculate in every woman, and actually came inside more than 40. He learned to take his time, letting the women do the work, and shifting between having two women lick and suck him —trading off between them and summoning in a third as their mouths got tired— and softly pumping in and out of a vagina, letting the woman decide when she was done and the next would come lower herself onto him. The woman organized on their own to switch out as needed, and he, the ultimate warlord, was never without a woman in his harem.


“All alone. Only a few wanderers to help him. Our tribe destroyed. Singlehanded forged new wildfolk from his seed.”


When they weren’t being sex slaves, the women in the camp did what wildfolk normally did – with a little more roleplay around not knowing what they were doing. They learned primitive fire, butchered animals, and got blood on their village folk dresses. They got really into drumming, trying to be as loud as they could to summon their men to their rescue.

But the best men were crippled, and Evan had hidden his camp well. Although the gay men were having a blast, the majority of the village was miserable – playing through a week of sex-included-roleplay without anyone to have sex with. They prowled and trained, and got caught in traps. They learned beekeeping and how to make solar stills to purify water. Taking your own life to change sides was very frowned upon, so they growled and endured their broken legs, and mastruabated in sullen silence inside their empty huts.

The last day, Evan enacted the last part of his plan. After he had gone around to the various activities and found each of his available women and kissed them, fingered them, and maybe slipped his cock inside them, and after he had taken three women he hadn’t cum in before, and emptied his already empty balls into them, he took all but one of his guards, and snuck to the village. They weren’t expecting an attack. Thus far Evan had been elusive. He hadn’t come near the village since he stole all the women. Now he snuck in again, past the nonexistent guards, and canlı bahis began killing. He took a protected place on the wall and sniped everyone. Perfect, tight, shots to the neck, chest and back. As the men died they walked to plot to change into wildfolk, and were told to wait to join the battle.

It would never have worked if the men had been able, but the best warriors couldn’t rush, and the guards slipped through the village, drawing people out and perhaps the men of the village were feeling just a little reckless and like they wanted to die. Mark – too proud to die, holed up in his house, setting an ambush at his door, and killed one of the guards as she tried to get him, but finally died in the end from a dart to the back of the head.


“In the wombs of our enemies we came into being, a new clan, and in time Singlehanded invited his sons to make his clan large again.”


Then plot announced the twist. The story advanced 18 years into the future. All of the men were Askei, Singlehanded’s sons – and their mighty founder finally invited them to partake of his harem. The men whooped. The women laughed, and drumming began. The women, acting a little more like wildfolk now, danced to the drums as the men approached them. They had been sex slaves for these boys lifetimes, but they still played at modisty beside their wild dance, turning their hips and butts away from the groping hands.

The red ribboned women – which many had actually moved to on this last joyous day, got the most attention and danced and fought as their sisters sons pawed at them, letting the frustrations of eighteen years watching their father fuck (and a week in the village without women) – out into their hands and cocks. Others played the other dances, wooing women who, despite having been sex slaves, hadn’t really gotten all that much action, off into the darkness.

Soon there was an orgy between the campfires. Women taken over and over again. Men crawling over each other find a pussy or set of lips to slip into. Those who weren’t actively participating whooped and drumed and egged them on.

One woman near the center stood, legs apart, naked now, her tanned hands on her legs as men lined up behind her. Another, blond beauty, was cradled between two men, both cocks inside her as she moaned between them. A third, knelt, man under her, man behind her, man in each hand and a fifth in her mouth, moving with the rhythm between their thrusts.

A few women ran, calling the chase and their sister’s sons tracked them into the darkness. Pinning them to trees and under bushes, pushing into them until, finished, they brought them back to the circle of light over their shoulders to be ravished more.

Maria lay in the group of women in the middle, legs clasped around a man ontop of her as he thrust in and out, a second man in her mouth.

All around the perimeter people coupled in all combinations, choosing their comfort with watching eyes and finding their edge in the firelight.

Above it all, Evan sat with Mia naked and collared, her lips around his cock. Another of his favorites lounged watching him with dreamy eyes, letting him softly slip his fingers in and out of her as he watched what he had wrought. Some of it had been luck. Some of it had been cunning, but he saw in the eyes that sometimes looked up at him, the making of his legend. He had made these men suffer, he had made explicit use of these women’s bodies. He had done it all for his own pleasure.

But he had done it in style, and if there’s anything a larper admires it’s style. Now that it was over they would look back and laugh and tell the story.


“And that is how our tribe persists,” Avanka finished. “Our forefather Singlehanded, reminds us that so long as one wildfolk remains we are not beaten.”

“What about the village?” Bill asked. How did they endure?

“Well, one girl remained – the reincarnation of the guard. I don’t know how a lesbian repopulated the village – but, one assumes she did.” Avanka laughed.

“Oh storyteller,” a man approached in a bulging raccoon pelt loincloth “-Your story has moved my cock. Will you give it some relief?”

Avanka laughed again, shifting her glasses back along her war painted nose. “I can see how that story might have that effect. Come with me.” And they headed off towards the tent.

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