Ding!
[You have been cursed by the gods]
Details: You have molested the goddess statue, thereby stomping the dignity of the goddess. In anger, the gods decided to punish you. To them, the goddess is a precious gem, not to be touched by mortals; even staring at her silhouette deserves death.
[Curse name: Limited Stamina]
Effect: "You will last only 50 seconds with a woman"
Michael stared at the series of messages flickering in the screen in disbelief. Then fury surged within him, causing his jaw to tighten. He clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"I only played with a statue! Was there really a need to go so far as to kill me? To curse me? Was there even a need to exile me?" His voice roared through the dense forest, filled with despair and bitterness startling the nearby woodland creatures.
In the heart of the lush forest, Michael stood beside a towering oak tree, its branches reaching out like hands trying to grasp the heavens. He felt exposed in his slender, bare body, as the cold air wrapped around his snow-white skin, making him shiver. His long black hair danced in the wind, framing a delicate yet masculine face twisted into a fierce expression. His deep black eyes burned with rage. He didn't know where he was, how he got there, or why he was in a different body.
His rage just wouldn't calm down, so he howled curses at the sky like a scoundrel.
"I'll get stronger, just wait and see. You bastards!" Michael spat, his cheeks flushed with anger.
"And when that day comes, I'll storm into your divine castles, strip you bare, and walk you through the streets for all to see your nudity in all its glory.." A sinister smile crept onto Michael's handsome face.
"Just imagine how those divine worshippers would feel, witnessing their gods and goddesses crawling through the streets, stripped and barking 'Yes, Master,' while I spank their asses with a whip." His fists tightened once more, his rage pouring forth like a storm..
"Can you envision that? Can you envision that, you arrogant gods!?"
***
Michael was born in a small village in the Celestial Heavens. His mother was gravely ill, so Michael worked tirelessly on a farm to save enough money to pay a priest to cast 'Greater Heal' on her, as the medicines they had tried were all ineffective.
After two years of labor, he finally managed to save enough to afford the priest's services. However, on the day he was to seek help, Michael was feeling unusually exhausted. Deciding it was best to rest before such an important event, he chose to wait until morning to make the journey.
"I'll just rest today," he reasoned to himself. "Tomorrow morning, I'll get the priest."
That night, Michael's mother, Samantha, summoned him.
When Michael stepped inside the room, it was dimly lit. A candle flickered in the corner of the bed, casting dancing shadows on the walls.The scent of medicine and filth filled the air, while shattered glass bottles and dirt were scattered across the floor.
"I mustn't forget to scold Rosie for not cleaning this room. he thought, pinching his nostrils against the unbearable smell.His gaze drifted to his mother, who lay weakly in the bed, resting against a pillow, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
Samantha looked up at her son, her eyes dull and lacking any youthful vibrance. Her once stunning face and enchanting smile had all disappeared, replaced by deep wrinkles and gray hair. She was just in her thirties, but the illness had taken a toll on her, making her look older than her age.
"Micheal, my sweet little boy... you've blossomed into such a fine young man. Mommy is so proud of you," she said in a weak, fragile voice. Her eyes saddened as a small tear streamed down her pale cheek.
"It's truly a pity I won't be able to watch you achieve your goals." Cough... cough... cough... Blood stained the blanket. Michael was spellbound for a moment; he was surprised to see how much she had worsened in just a few days of not seeing her.
"Mother, don't speak! I'll get you your medicine... you'll be fine... you'll be just fine." Panic surged in Micheal's heart as he tried to leave the room to search for anything that could help relieve his mother's pain.
"No… don't go…" Samantha's hand lifted weakly, halting him with a trembling gesture.
"I've been a bad mother to you, Micheal. My biggest regret is not giving you and Rosie a comfortable life, maybe..."
"That's not true. Rosie and I are blessed to have a mother like you!" Micheal shouted as he rushed to hold his mother's trembling hands.
A smile blossomed on Samantha's wrinkled face.
"Stupid boy... you make mommy cry," she said as she caressed his red hair.
"Promise this, Micheal... when I'm gone, take care of Rosie..." she said before her last breath left her, and her head hung limply to the side. All strength lost.
"Mother… Mother!!… Mother..." Micheal cried out, his voice choking between sobs. The memories of his mother's laughter, her gentle yet loving voice, and those soothing warm hands that always calmed his fears flashed in his mind in an instant. Tears fell on his cheeks like a stream as he desperately tried to wake her up, knowing full well his efforts were futile. He just couldn't accept the reality before him.
"If only... if only I had gotten the priest sooner, maybe… maybe Mother wouldn't have died. It's my fault. It's all my fault!"
"Aauh…"
That night, Micheal cried tears of blood.
***
"Mother, your last wish was for me to take good care of Rosie," he said, falling to one knee like a knight beside his mother's grave. With trembling hands, he placed a carefully arranged bouquet of flowers.
"Rosie is still young and needs a mother's love. Leaving her so soon must have left a scar on her little heart. I can see the helplessness in her eyes, even though she tries to hide it." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in.
"But I promise to raise her, to support her, and to be there for her—just as you would have done if you were still alive. So, Mother, I vow to fulfill your last wish." A small tear rolled down Michael's cheek as memories of his mother flooded back, mingling with the heartbreaking image of his little sister's face when she learned that their mother was gone. At just fifteen years old, she was forced to bear this heavy burden.
Michael felt his heart ache, but he clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"I must be strong. I need to be strong for Rosie and for you, Mother. I know you wouldn't want to see me in this state of despair, and Rosie needs someone to comfort her. I cannot afford to be weak." With a heavy heart, he rose to his feet, scattered some sand over the grave, and then turned away, leaving the cemetery behind.
The moon hung high in the clear night sky, its silvery light casting an ethereal glow over the green-leafed village and surrounding mountains. A gentle breeze rustled Michael's linen shirt, swaying it gracefully as he strode forward in his leather pants and sturdy boots. With each step, his figure gradually diminished in the distance, becoming a silhouette.
On his way home
Micheal saw a star streaking across the night sky, descending rapidly toward him. It grew larger and brighter, almost as if it were reaching out to him. Before he could process what was happening, the luminous orb appeared before his eyes. Panic surged through him as he tried to flee, but it was too late. The orb surged into his mind, and in an instant, his vision went black.
A few hours later
Michael woke up to find himself lying on his back in the soft grass. The sky was blue and clear, and the sun hung high, bathing everything in its warmth. He could hear the trees rustling gently and birds chirping. He squinted a little, then looked up and noticed the village in the distance.
"Did I really sleep here last night?" he wondered, bewilderment visible in his expression.
Then memories of the previous night came flooding back. He remembered going home and then being struck by a shiny object. Then it hit him.
"Oh God, Rosie! How could I have let a little girl sleep alone?" Panic surged in Michael's heart. He quickly propped himself up and dashed toward the village.
Damn it! How could I have been so careless? What if someone sneaked into the house and did something unthinkable to her?
As he sprinted forward, a voice echoed in his mind.
Ding!
Suddenly, a blue, transparent rectangular screen materialized before his eyes, causing him to stumble to a halt. He stood there, mouth agape, bewildered.
"What on heaven is this?"
Michael blinked rapidly, questioning his own sanity, but the screen remained stubbornly in front of him, refusing to fade away.
Curious, he leaned closer and began reading the words shimmering on its surface
"Your soul has merged with the female conquering system"
Then the text disappeared, and new text appeared
"From today onwards, your soul, body, and mind belong to the female conquering system. Now be a good boy and do as the system says, or you will be severely punished."
"What there...? Michael's eyes opened wide in disbelief."
He didn't know why, but after reading the message, shivers ran down his spine.
A few minutes later.
He arrived home and hurried toward his sister's bedroom. There, he found Rosie sleeping soundly and defenseless. She wore a long white silk skirt, but as she had spread her legs, the fabric had shifted higher, revealing her snow-white, alluring thighs. Her long red hair spilled over the pillow like a waterfall, framing her delicate and youthful face. For a moment, Michael was taken aback by the sight of her left hand resting between her legs, but he quickly brushed it aside.
"At least Rosie is safe," he sighed, just as he was about to leave the room.
Ding!
Mission: Fuck your sister Rosie.
Duration: 4 minutes.
Reward: Flirting manual, god pleasure fingering technique.
Punishment: Stomach ache for 2 days.
Note: Rosie wonders what it will feel like to be one with her brother.
"Are you kidding me?" Michael stared at the message, dumbfounded.
Ever since he woke up, it had been nothing but one surprise after another. Anyway, how could he do that to his sister?.
Shaking his head in disbelief, he took a step toward the door. Just as he reached for the handle, ready to close it behind him, he heard a soft, yet alluring moan come from the other side.
"Aah... oh yes, please spank me, brother... I've been a bad girl... aah..."
He paused for a moment to peek, and once again he was struck dumb by what he saw. Rosie's left hand moved between her legs, her skirt raised even higher now. If one looked closely, one could see her tender lips, glistening and inviting. Her hand teased them, wetting them with moisture.
"Yes, yes, this is all for you. I saved it just for you," more moans escaped from Rosie's sleeping face.
Michael felt a rush of warmth flood through him, filling him with unexpected joy and excitement. At that moment, his penis stood erect, and his heart raced, overwhelming him with sensations. But in the next breath, embarrassment washed over him, leaving him feeling exposed and ashamed.
"Damn it, how could I allow myself to feel this way about my little sister?" he thought, his face flushing red..
Quickly, he closed the door behind him, panic urging him to escape. He couldn't stay any longer; he feared what might happen next if he did.
As he dashed toward his room, a sudden wave of pain gripped him. It was so intense that his breath became shallow gasps.
"Aaaauuggh!" he cried out.
Ding!
You have failed the mission.
Ding!
Your punishment begins…