What just happened?

Well, hopefully, you just finished Power of Creation.

No, I mean, what is with that ending?

Although most readers didn’t know this, Power of Creation has always been about the relationship between Whizzer, the writer, and you, the reader. In a way, all writers are the true “God” of whatever world you’re visiting. This story just made that literal.

Having Whizzer be revealed as the Demon God and the final antagonist seemed fitting for this story. Basically, Whizzer brought you into this world to give him a reason to make it, and thus the two of you grew a dependence on each other. He needed you to read the novel just as much as you needed him to write it.

He created an eronovel for his own desires, but he used you to justify its creation. In essence, the power of creation was always a metaphor for the power to create your own fantasies and follow your imagination. It explored the relationship between a writer and his readers. Well, more like a case study of when that relationship goes wrong.

You keep saying ‘he’. Aren’t you the author?

I’m Whatsawhizzer, the username of the author of all of these novels, Terrance Phillipe. Whizzer is the fictionalized author persona that I undertook during the writing of Power of Creation. You guys murdered him at the end of PoC. I, Whatsawhizzer, will gracefully take over all of his writing stuff.

Persona? Are you saying Whatsawhizzer and Whizzer are two different people?

Whatsawhizzer is the real person, Whizzer is his fictional author. As far as how our personalities differ, Whizzer is more confrontational, whiny, and negative. It was always intended for him to be the reader’s antagonist, and your relationship with him was intended to decline as the story progressed. I aimed to have an author that fought with and grew into an antagonistic relationship with the reader over the course of the story.

Huh? My relationship with the author?

The relationship between you and Whizzer was a deeper layer to the relatively simple story of PoC. I encouraged everyone to comment and often engaged people in conversations in the comments section, in discord, and in author notes. Whizzer was quick to argue and fight, and openly mocked commenters in the story. This was all intentional. That was actually the true “plot” of Power of Creation, and for those who commented and got into fights with Whizzer, you participated! Telling Whizzer not to comment or to just do what he wanted to do and not listen to comments defeated the point of the story. The fact that elements were changed by comments was an integral part of the story! Whizzer arguing, fighting, and changing sections of the story were all parts of the overall narrative.

What about your lazy 4^th wall breaks?

As a “hero” from another world and the reader, you were less “in” the world than everyone else, which is why you could have bouts of breaking the 4^th wall. Of course, as the narrator, Whizzer also could break the 4^th wall, which he often did to harass and troll you.  Other heros also had this ability. It was only later in the novel when Whizzer was breaking into the story that the 4^th wall began to crumble, and other characters exuded more and more 4^th wall breaks. One of the most hated aspects of this story (the 4^th wall break humor) was actually a major plot point!

It was when you cast the barrier magic that you finally shattered the wall and could see the world for the story it was. The guy who had been with you all along, talking with and reading all of his words, the narrator, Whizzer, was the real antagonist. He orchestrated everything, all to satisfy his NTR fetish.

You seriously planned this out from the beginning?

Well, no. Obviously, I wrote TOAS in entirety as Whizzer. As to when I decided to make Whizzer a fictionalized character and send PoC this direction? For those of you who followed this from the beginning, you know I wrote PoC just to blow off stress from writing TOAS. Around Chapter 40, I had finished TOAS and I wasn’t getting any excitement from PoC. I suggested turning it into a choose your own adventure and the overwhelming response from fans was “Keep everything the same”.

Then, in a twist that should have surprised no one, when I kept everything the same, I grew bored and quit writing it. It ended up on hiatus for a bit until its sudden resurgence. That’s when I decided to go this route. I still dragged you guys into being an active part of the story, I just did it in a way you didn’t realize it! I created Whatsawhizzer, who is the author of WoW and my other novels, and steadily separated and refined the Whizzer personality.

Ironically, a few have said that they stopped liking PoC around chapter 50, so perhaps they subtly picked up the change in focus from a generic everystory to something with a direction that explored the complex relationship between writers and their readers.

So, that’s it? Everything went according to plan?

Actually, this entire story didn’t really go to my original plan. Originally, I was planning to completely duck out of MSB upon Whizzer’s death. The plan was to finish TOAE/D under a different name after retiring Whizzer. This entire thing was my exit strategy for the ero business. Then things changed.

What changed?

Isn’t it obvious? World of Women became a ridiculous hit. Patreon took off. I started writing other stories and started growing a fanbase. Remember, when I conceived all this, there was no Discord community. I had two books total. There was no 300+ patreons. I had 7 Patreons, and brought in $30 a month. This naturally massively changed things. For example, I had to tone down the mental break a bit. Yeah, I planned to go even more insane, but when I have $1500 riding on it, I tried to keep the mental breakdowns to something tolerable. Even then, I’m sure my shitty attitude has lost many readers. If you were the target of my ire, I do apologize, it really was all part of the act.

Wait, if Whizzer is a PoC fictionalized author, why did you act confrontational in a none PoC IP or under the Whatsawhizzer name?

Hey, once you start acting a certain way, it’s kind of tough to turn it off, you know? It was already difficult enough maintaining a balance between being antagonistic but not causing me to lose readers. I was very fearful of going too far and end up pushing away a bunch of readers, so I could never go full asshole. I had to keep reassuring people (especially those who thought I was genuinely on the edge of a psychotic break), that this is fine (while acting like I was on the edge of a psychotic break). Even still, I wish I could have been a bit more antagonistic, but then I wouldn’t have any readers by the time I reached the big reveal! I chose to act somewhat antagonistic in WoW as well, because I figured most PoC readers also read WoW. As far as areas like my disqus where Whatsawhizzer was used, they were all affected by the Whizzer personality.

Are you going to be different now that PoC is over?

Yes… I’m going to start acting like me again. But who knows, as I said, it was somewhat difficult to turn off once it got started, and I can’t say it wasn’t fun to be particularly jerkish and troll the fans. I might need to come up with the equivalent of a Whizzer swear jar to curb my previous behavior. We’ll see.

What about the readers that didn’t read the comments?

Too bad, they missed out on an integral part of the story. They wouldn’t understand various references in the text, nor the humor of some of the veiled insults. The fact all the girls were in collars because someone requested it… the “specials” that often ended disastrously, randomly changing the direction of the story at a key point (Megara *cough*), these were all intentional parts of the story. They were the story beyond the story.

What about the Volume PDFs? By very nature, aren’t they devalued by the fact that the “integral” comments and author notes are absent from them?” 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….…………………………………………………Not at all……………………………………………………………………………………

…

Look, there is plenty to like about PoC without being aware of comments. It had sex. It had humor. Most people had no clue the conversations in comments were story related, and for the most part they’re still there if you want to go read them on MSB.

Well, I hate 4^th wall breaks and that ending ruined Power of Creation for me!

Too bad. Probably shouldn’t have murdered the author then. Whizzer was the kind of guy who might have changed it with enough complaining.

What does this mean for the future of your writing?

Power of Creation had to find an end eventually. I planned for it to end around chapter 300. Now it is over, I’ll start something else. You still have TOAE (when I return to it) and you still have WoW and NTR Crush. I plan to pick up and start writing something else. I’ll put out a survey soon to decide what that will be. There are a lot of options.

Thank you for enjoying Power of Creation. I hope to keep writing with your continued support. Have a good one!

 

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“It’s time to begin the most epic fight ever conceived!” I shout.

“How will that happen?” You ask.

“Through tedious clicking repetition!” I respond.

“…”

Fight the Demon God Here!

If you’re a member, you can access the password in my ToC without playing.

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Two forms dance around an impossibly massive space. From a distance, they could barely be considered dots, yet each time the forms collide, there is a massive wave of power which threatens to tear apart reality itself. This very chapter sits at the border of cracking apart.

“Why won’t you die?” I curse, striking down onto your sword, causing a massive wave of power to explode out, sending another wave of hairpin cracks to form across the edges of infinity.

“I’m the reader! Which one of us you want to die? All of us?” You shoot back. “On that note, can you even say you’ve written something if there is no one there to read it?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I scream, my sword flashing down again in several quick strikes.

You dodge it, zooming through the infinite space as I shoot beams of fire and ice out towards you. These beams seem to melt before they even reach you. You continue to dodge, dip, dive, and dodge, avoiding everything I can throw. Each time my attacks are dodged, I grow more furious.

“Dude, you’re kind of loosing it, do you need a nap?”

“Fuck you! Fuck you!” I scream, launching dozens of attacks that you avoid, seemingly growing easier the longer you go.

“You’re not even hitting me, shouldn’t you be giving up?”

“Damn it, you fucking readers are so damn slippery. I attack one of you, and then another takes their place!” I shriek. “Isn’t it just like you?”

“What is that now? You still have shit to say?”

“Every time I launch an attack, you always hide behind someone else!” I snarl. “I attack some of you, and the ones who don’t even have anything to do with it answer and take offense despite not even being the ones I had a problem with. That’s why you’re so good at this. That’s why you stick around like a cockroach, no matter who I attack, it’s always intended for someone else. You dance around like insects, avoiding every hit I deliver.”

“Is this some heavily loaded metaphor?” You ponder.

“Metaphor? Shit, I’ve got idiots who don’t even read my novels clicking Whizzer surveys. You’d think that wouldn’t be many, but I got almost 5% of my surveys back from people who don’t even read my books? That’s the kind of shit I have to constantly deal with. Those of you who are the problem will never realize it, and those of you who aren’t will take offense for something you weren’t even involved with!”

You shake your head. “You’re just talking nonsense now. How about just finishing the story and ending this little psychotic break?”

“Little psychotic break? Little? You think I’m doing this just for me? I’m doing this for all of the writers out there. You assholes will just go on to the next writer once we’re done here. You’re like locusts. You just consume, consume, consume. You scurry around in a crowd of nameless pawns that is always hungry and always biting, and as soon as you consume a work, you’re just on to the next one. Is it any wonder the quality is shit? Is it any wonder us writers are bled dry? If I don’t set you in your place, you’ll just go on to the next writer and suck them dry!

“That’s the fundamental truth! You’re the monsters! You’re the villains! You, reader, you have lead to this ending!”

“Oh, blah, blah, blah… readers bad! Are you done?” You ask.

“Die!” I scream, coming at you again, sending several massive suns at you.

You deflect the massive bodies of fire and send them spiraling off. They collapse into blackholes, creating massive supernovas which decorate the landscape. I create waves of evil, waves of monsters, waves of plot contrivance, and each thing I send your way is defeated with a wave of your hand or a snide comment. As I grow more desperate, my attacks begin to grow more sluggish. My imagination, my desires, my wants, they are all drained on you. I can only do so much. In the end, there is only one of me, and there is so many of you.

I cry and scream, trying to change the nature of this story, but I already know you’re right. This story was written for you to read it. I can’t destroy you without destroying the story. As I collapse to the ground, falling to my knees, the universe starts to reform. The world appears under your feet once again. The city of Riun re-solidifies. The castle you made comes back, all of the harem girls appear. I’m in the middle of the courtyard, sitting on my knees, breathing hard, covered in sweat as PoC reforms as if I have accomplished nothing.

“What now?” You ask, scratching the back of your head.

“I’ve… threatened you. Tried to replace you. Nagged you. Insulted you. Tried to kill you. Yet… still, you’re here. Still, you’re reading. This was my story… mine! I’ve spend a hundred times longer writing it than you did reading it.”

“…”

“I’ve been with it since the beginning. Every day, I’m the one posting it. I’ve read it. I’ve invested money into it. This… this is my story…”

“…” You frown, not sure what I’m getting at.

I sigh, standing back up. “I can’t end this story on my terms, I think. I’m done. I can’t keep on.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Seriously? That’s it, Power of Creation is over?”

“Hehe… you piece of shit… you think I’d let you end it that easily?” I raise my hands into fists. “This fight it to the death!”

“…”

“Come! Let us end this the way it was meant to be! All of you… against me!”

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Disclaimer: This chapter was originally scattered through MSB, and people needed to follow the links. 

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This part appeared on the Main Page of MSB.

“Where are we?” You ask, looking around the void of blackness.

“Hmm? Oh, we’re on the homepage of MSB. That attack broke the universe. Nice going… dick.”

“Wait? The homepage? Can we be here? What would Pun say?”

“I don’t know man, why don’t you ask him, he’s over there…”

You glance over to a corner and see a strange person sitting there, and immediate jump. “Ahh! How long have they been sitting there?”

“It’s… uh… better if you don’t ask.”

“What is that in their lap? They’re petting it while smiling at us?”

“You might not want to make eye contact either. They… um… like to watch.”

“Oh, they’re waving. Wait… they’re using both their hands to pet that thing in their lap, what are they waving with!”

“Hey, look reader, I know you see Pun as some kind of God or something, but I do have to work with the guy, so I think it’s better if we just go…”

“Where did their pants go!”

“Okay… I’m out. We going to keep fighting?”

“Yeah… I guess… what’s that crunching noise emanating from their direction.”

“What part of stop asking questions don’t you understand!” I cry out in annoyance, “This is why you suck! You can’t just enjoy things, you have to fret about the person in the corner!”

“It’s really freaking weird!”

“I’ll show you weird!” I attack with my sword, meanwhile shoving you through another portal.

Pun continues to sit there. Now, they’re a pickle.

---

This part appeared in a chapter of PLIC.

The pair of us burst out of the portal.

“Oh, jeeze… where the hell are we now?” You ask.

“The hell if I know, I don’t read the garbage on this site.” Whizzer laughs.

“This… this is PLIC!” You declare.

“Oh great, we’re really skimming the bottom of the barrel here.” Whizzer sighs.

[Aiiiiii!]

Rei-chan screams, covering her naked chests.

“Oh god, they talk with brackets and disjointed lines. It’s a grammatical nightmare. This is the worst. My own personal hell…” Whizzer cry

“Your no longer in first person!”

Whizzer shrugs “Well, this is no longer my story. You are still you, but I’m not the MC. This asshole is the MC!”

[Who are you?]

I ask, glaring at the two men who suddenly stepped into my deflowering session of Rei-chan.

“Come on, reader, this is tiny country. Let’s get out of here. I already feel like imprisoning myself.”

“…”

The two strange men leap through another portal. I shrug and point at Rei-chan.

---

This part appeared in a chapter of Tales of a Seductress.

“Holy fuckballs, is this the kind of stuff you write in other novels?” You ask.

“… To be fair, Denova is a giant tool,” Whizzer explained.

“She just pray mantised the shit out of him!”

Jenai pulled out a knife and stared warily at you both while I stood up and unashamedly cleaned myself up.

“I presume you two aren’t here for Denova, right?” I asked.

“Nope…” Whizzer shrugged.

“We’re from another world… I guess…” You tried to explain.

“Another world?” My eyes brightened. “Like Earth? Can you take me back to Earth?”

“Oh… honey… no… no… not at all.” Whizzer shook his head. “Nope, Nadda, not going to happen.”

“One no would have sufficed…” I sighed, grimacing.

“Are you even writing this story anymore?” You asked.

“I’m working on it!” Whizzer defended. “I’m just trying to get a spark of inspiration on how to continue. I probably need to reread the story from the first chapter.”

“What are you both talking about? A story?” I demanded.

“Nevermind. Come on, reader, let’s just get back to PoC. This fight has been going nowhere.”

“W-wait…” I held up here hands. “Perhaps you guys would be up for sex?”

“Seriously? Now? There is a decapitated head over there!” Whizzer pointed.

I shrugged.

“You too, reader?”

“I mean… for the readers of TOAS, a chance to bang Aria…”

“I’ll tell you what, if my Patreon goes up by $100 this month, I’ll write your Aria X PoC fuck fiction.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure, what the hell, anything is possible.”

As we say this, we jumped through another portal. The girls turn away, deciding to ignore what they just saw.

---

This portion appeared in this chapter. 

“Ah… good, we’re finally back in the proper chapter.” I sigh.

“Where are my girls?” You demand.

“The universe shattered. I already said. Your girls are no more.”

“!!!”

“Relax… the pair of us are at odds with each other, both trying to gain control of this reality. Once I kill you, I can restore the reality as easily as snapping a finger.”

“And what if I kill you?”

“Hahaha… oh, you’re not joking. Well, it won’t be what you expect. I guess you’ll just have to discover a way to kill me to find out?” I lift my sword. “So, where were we?”

“I was about to kill you!” You declare, swinging pig fucker down.

“I could say the same!” I shot back.

The pair of us collide as ripples of explosions shoot off into the universe. The intensity of the battle starts to grow as it becomes do or die!

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“Seriously!” I curse, “What the heck is going on?”

I grab Ariel’s titties.

And miss, falling on my ass.

“Damn it!” I shoot you a hateful glare.

“Seriously?” You ask, “I’m just reading, you are the only one writing this story. Clearly, you’re just writing this yourself.”

“Why would I do that? It makes no sense!” I curse, “You must be using the ‘spirit of the reader’ to usurp your will into my writing. Yes, that’s it.”

“…”

“… what? Why you looking at me that way?”

“I’m just checking if that’s really how we’re explaining this. Clearly, you’re writing both parts of this story… you expect me to buy ‘spirit of the reader’?”

“Always a fucking critic.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s writing myself getting cucked.”

“Excuse me? Da fuck you say?”

“Oh, what? Didn’t I JUST bang your wife before you came here? Face it, you want me to NTR all the women.”

“There is you using NTR incorrectly again. She’s my fucking ex-wife. How is you sleeping with her NTR? That literally makes no fucking sense.”

“Haha… just admit I fucked your wife!”

I raise an eyebrow. “Okay, you win, you fucked a fictional bitchy ex-wife. I wrote a whore who went and fucked seven other men, had a baby with each of them, and was the literal embodiment of sin.”

“…”

“Total catch there, you managed to nail an easily manipulated vindictive hoe who succumbs to your dick with ease. She abandoned this world at the first chance, didn’t bother to raise her many children with multiple men, and calls you a bastard. You scored big with that one. Congrats.”

“Whatever, at least it didn’t occur thanks to some kind of ‘spirit of the reader’ bullshit.”

“You’re going to suck whatever fun I can get out of this web novel, aren’t you…”

“What can I say, I’m an internet commenter, it’s what I do…” You smirk.

“Fair enough…” I sigh, “Then, let us finish this fight!”

“H-how?”

“How do they always fight? With impractically over-sized swords!”

I pull out a sword. It is three times my height. It a black blade with wicked carvings that look like demonic script which glow red. If you look into the glowing red cracks they seem to burn and convect like hot magma. The sword gives off a feeling of extreme desperation and darkness. Fear radiates out out of it, carpeting the world in darkness. Most of the townspeople who had been watching this exchange have now passed out by the sheer pressure it gives off.

“This sword was forged with the embers of a collapsing star at the moment of a supernova, the steel was condensed by the black hole that followed. After that, it went on to enslave countless billions, bathing in the blood of entire civilizations until it gain a consciousness. If I wasn’t a God, I would go insane simply wielding this sword. It’s name is the Darkbringer! Now, you go…”

“What?”

“Pull out your sword.”

“Hah… about that…”

“Damn it… this is a dick measuring contest in the form of impractical swords, I’ve pulled out my dic- I mean sword, now you need to pull yours out. Come on, don’t leave me hanging…”

“Can you not talk about hanging when talking about your dick? Wait, if our swords are our dicks and we slam them together… isn’t that kind of…”

“God damn it, why do you have to ruin everything! Just pull out your damn sword and then we’ll touch the tips!”

“…”

“To make it official!”

“I’m not exactly comfortable with…”

“GOD DAMN IT, READER, PULL OUT YOUR GOD DAMN SWORD AND FIGHT ME TO THE DEATH OR I SWEAR TO GOD, I’m JUST GOING TO END THE STORY RIGHT HERE. DO YOU WANT THE ENDING SEX ORGY WITH THE HAREM OR NOT?”

“You’re not gonna be in that sex orgy. Are you?” You ask suspiciously.

“I hate you so much.” I facepalm. “I’ll set back culture twenty years. No Homo… are you happy? Can we continue on?”

“Y-yes… please continue…”

“Then pull out your sword! Remember, you can create anything you can imagine. That means the only limitations of this battle are the limitations of your very mind!

You nod, reaching out and summoning a sword. It looks like a sword. It’s pointy. And silver. And… big?

“I call this sword Pig Fucker… It fucks pigs.”

“…”

“…”

“I think we both understand why I’m the writer…” I sigh.

“…”

“Then, it is time to die! Brace yourself! Darkbringer, kill that Pig Fucker!” I swing down my sword.

“Ah! Pig Fucker! Save me!” You lift your sword to block.

The resulting explosion spreads throughout MSB as the universe that contains PoC shatters.

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I’m sitting here with a displeased look on my face. The entire courtyard is silent. All of the girls wait as the deadline for the ‘Save the Waifu’ competition strikes zero. After the magical clock that sat in the middle of the clock flashes zero for a minute and disappears, there is still nothing else that happens. I continue to just sit there, my palm on my cheek, and you continue to sit opposite of me. Nearby, your harem of girls anxiously await their fate.

“Well?” You finally ask.

“… you’ve saved them all.” I finally respond, my mouth twisting in disgust.

There is a cry of celebration amongst the girls. Some cheer, some burst into tears, and some clap each other on the back. Overall, the celebration continues for about ten minutes, but as I sit there doing nothing, the excitement starts to fade away. Soon, everyone is wondering what I plan next. However, I continue to just sit there, doing nothing. Eventually, all eyes, including yours, are back on me. I raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want something?” I ask.

“…” You shrug. “Shouldn’t we be getting this over with?”

“Hah? We did… I gave you a choice. This is the ending you wanted, isn’t it?”

“?”

“I won’t touch your girls. Congratulations. You’ve successfully paid me to not write ero in this ero novel!”

“!?”

“What did you think this was? I had an ending. It’d be exciting. It’d be triumphant. People would be affected. Some would grow. Some would never be the same. Some might even die. That’s the point of a good climax. Thinks can’t just remain the same… Unchanging safety, that’s boring. That’s mundane. That’s… what you unanimously seemed to ask for.” I lean back and sigh.

“So, here we are. A safe story. Nothing bad will happen to your girls. God forbid you feel anxious, excited, or the least bit worried in the finale of a story! But you didn’t want that. Collectively, readers, your words were loud, clear, and backed by cold, hard cash. You’d rather nothing happen so that you could feel relieved that everyone is safe. Congratulations. You have security. How does it feel? Was this the ending you wanted?”

“You know… NTR isn’t the only way to make a story exciting!” You defend. “Isn’t it your job as an author to make this story good? Isn’t it your own lack of creativity that makes you not come up with anything after NTR?” You demand.

“You want me to write an exciting climax… in an ero story, where an already established Demon God comes into the story to take all your women… and they can’t do that… and you still want it to be exciting and interesting?”

“…”

“Let’s just face the truth. You’re dickless. I said it already, I’ll say it again. You’re so scared of what I might do, you’ll actually rather pay me to do nothing. You’re selfish, and cowardly, and so terrified of losing… anything… that you desperately hold on to everything. Collectively, you couldn’t leave a single girl behind to continue the story. Some of this so-called harem are women you’ve never even had sex with. They were barely present for a chapter or two, but you’re so desperate to keep what’s yours, you couldn’t even sacrifice Experiment 626. She’s literally a sexdoll whose been being banged by goblins for months on end. You haven’t touched her once… but apparently she needed to be saved. Lillian… my own ex-wife… you banged once… and she needed to be saved? Presumably, I’ve had sex with her before, but god forbid you allow her to take one for the team.

“And the funny thing is, there are actually people who like NTR. You’re so selfish, you’re going to deprive them of getting their fetish… to save Lady? Cruella? Wendy? I could write a literal worm, call it your harem, and you’d give me a $1 for it, wouldn’t you?

“Hey, you made it seem like we needed to save all the girls from you!” You defend. “Save Your Waifu day, all of that rot!”

“Oh yes… I’m going to NOT encourage you to give me money. Welcome to planet doesn’t exist, where people don’t love to have you hand them a bunch of money at minimal effort.”

“…”

“Why don’t you just shut up!” A voice shot out from the crowd of girls, causing me to glance over in surprise.

“Ariel? Still giving lip?”

“You’re just upset that you’re little attempt to break up the readerbase didn’t work. They supported us! They love us! You’re just angry things didn’t go the way you want! Go take that money and buy yourself a pity dick to put in your mouth!”

“…” I glance over at Ariel with my eyes narrowed. “That’s actually an interesting point, how do your readers actually feel about you?”

“…”

“W-well I know Alex loves me!” Mulan calls out.

“Stuart loves me!” Aurora adds.

“Evyatar loves me!” Snow White snorts proudly.

“Love? They spent a few bucks on you. They’ll spend $50 on a hooker, it doesn’t mean there is any love there!” I shot back. “You know what? I’m done with this bullshit.”

I stand up, heading over to Ariel. She takes a step back, fear shining in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” You demand.

“I’m taking what is mine!” I snarl. “Ariel, I made you first. So, it’s fitting that we have a little fun. To start this orgy.”

“We paid you money!” You call out.

“You made a deal with a Demon God…” I laugh.

“…”

“Still don’t want to see my finale?” I chuckle. “Still want the mediocrity of a limp ending? Too bad, I’m going to reach this climax full cocked!”

“Ahh! St-stop!” Ariel cries as I grab her and pull her into my arms.

“Don’t worry, Ariel, I’ll write it so you love it much better than anything the MC would give you.”

“No, I don’t want it!” She cries out as my hands reach out and grab her chest.

I start ripping off her clothing, pawing at her naked body. My hands are rough and course, and cause erotic feelings to shoot through her body. Her eyes start to glaze over as my hands start to cause her arousal way better than the arousal you could give her. She is just my bitch after all. Not your bitch. My bitch. Woof for me, bitch.

“W-woof.”

Come, suck my dick. Lower you head. Get on your knees. That’s right, open those pretty little lips. Do you see? Do you see your Ariel loves me just the same. She’s such a slut. Aren’t you, Ariel?

“Yes… I’m Whizzer’s slut.” Ariel’s voice says.

Mmm… now suck my cock. Suck it, Ariel, Suck.

“Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!” A moment later, Ariel stands up and her foot slams right into my balls.

What? I didn’t write that? Why would I write myself getting kicked in the balls!

“Get away, you creep!” Ariel slaps my face and I collapse to the ground in pain as she runs over to your arms.

What? What? What? No. No. That’s not the way this story is going! What are you doing? Who’s doing this! Who’s fucking with my story!

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“Maybe you’re secretly a cucked M?” You suggest.

“Oh, you can go to hell-“

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