The rooster crows, a little too late to its job. The wooden walls of the house creak as they expand with the growing heat of the dawning sun. A spoon hung in the kitchen clinks against the side of a bowl as Rob brings out the big pot, shouting with a stiff and practical voice, “Food’s done. Carrot stew!”
The house is filled with the disgusting aroma of boiled vegetables, mingled with the faint traces of whatever herbs they’ve managed to gather. Warm, but the kind of warm one gets from sitting on a chair that another person just vacated their buttocks from.
“No eggplants?” Lena asks in a slightly muffled voice. She’s still buried under a blanket or slumped half-asleep against a chair.
“Price went up by one shilling, so no.” Rob’s response is flat.
The old man has already gone out even before the sun was up, with no indication as to where he went. Makes sense. Everyone else was still fast asleep, and he wouldn’t announce his daily itinerary to a table.
Table is eager for his stats to rise again. He braces himself as breakfast is served, ready to soak up some more precious END gains.
He waits.
And waits.
The couple finishes their breakfast and puts away the cutleries.
Nothing happens.
Why? Isn’t this par-for-the-course training?
Lunch comes. Dinner follows. Not a single notification appears. The grind has stopped.
He’s plateaued.
He’s become TOO STRONG.
This is worse than being weak! If he doesn’t grow, how will he ever evolve? How will he achieve his dream of becoming the Ultimate Table?
Days pass. Lena drops a heavy pot on him—nothing. Rob accidentally slams his mug down—no gains. Teddy walks over him, tail flicking in indifference—no scratches, no progress.
Table is in hell, and he can’t walk away from any of this.
But then one day, salvation arrives.
Lena and Rob enter the room, talking in hushed voices.
“Old man’s out of town,” says Rob.
“He would never approve of this if he’s here,” Lena’s voice is even quieter.
Their gazes meet. There’s a pause.
Lena glances toward the door, hands clutching the religious necklace she’s wearing, making sure no divine punishment is about to strike them down. Rob, on the other hand, reaches for the nearest candle and blows it out.
Lena clasps her hands together. “We should at least put down some cloth.”
Rob sighs. “We don’t have a piece of cloth big enough.”
“What about the bedsheet?”
Rob looks at her weirdly. “Do you want to explain to the old man why the bedsheet smells like stew?”
Lena chews her lip. “…We sit directly, then.”
What the hell are they going to do? Table thinks. Summon a demon?
Table’s mind spirals into madness.
They’re going to summon a demon. That’s the only explanation. Why else would they blow out the candle? Why else would they speak in hushed voices like two conspirators about to commit unspeakable horrors?The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Would that give him stats? If the demon appears and scratches him, that could be a solid STR boost.
Or if the summoning circle requires heavy objects to be placed on him, he might get another endurance gain. Maybe if they start chanting, he’ll absorb some arcane energy and unlock a hidden Magic Resistance stat—he doesn’t have one yet, but there’s always a first time.
Oh, what if they sacrifice something? Could he absorb life essence? That’s got to be a thing, right? A dark ritual gone wrong, and suddenly, BAM—Table of the Abyss.
Wait. No. That’s stupid.
Maybe they’re plotting murder? If someone gets stabbed on him, would that count as impact resistance? Would blood stains make him a cursed item and unlock hidden abilities? Table of the Dying Man Coughing His Blood Out on Its Face.
His mind races through possibility after possibility, each more ridiculous than the last.
Then Rob just… sits.
Lena follows.
They rub their buttocks on Table.
And they start kissing.
At first, it’s just a shift. A slight scoot. Nothing dramatic. But then—oh no. Oh no no no.
They settle in, wiggling ever so slightly to get comfortable, pressing their full weight down onto his surface. The friction of her butt against his face. The warmth. The sheer, horrific intimacy of it all.
Lena adjusts herself, and scrape—her skirt bunches, and Table feels it. Rob leans in, his trousers sliding ever so slightly, and the fabric rasps against Table’s pristine wooden grain.
It’s a slow torment. They rub. They squirm. They veer. Back and forth. Side to side. A casual, unconscious grinding of posteriors against his very being.
Table wants to scream.
[New Weight Detected. Endurance Training Resumed.]
Oh. OH. NEVERMIND.
HE LOVES GETTING BUTTOCKS GROUND AGAINST HIS FACE.
Lena presses more weight onto Rob. Rob’s hand braces against his surface. The couple grows more enthusiastic.
[+1 END]
YES.
[+1 END]
YESSSS.
Table has never felt more alive.
The rest of what happens should be best left unspoken, but the stats change is forever etched into his memory.
[+1 END] – His body has been tempered in the fires of passion.
[+1 STR] – The weight. The pressure. The sheer force. He is a big boy now.
[+3 PER] – Wait. PER? What the hell is PER?
As the couple returns to their room, Table thinks long and hard about what PER can represent. Perseverance? Perturbation? Perishability?
Then, slowly, horrifyingly, understanding dawns upon him.
Perception.
Oh no.
OH NO.
He has seen things. Things that can never be unseen. Things that have seared themselves into the very grain of his existence. The way Lena’s hair fell over her shoulder. The hitch in Rob’s breath. The look in their eyes.
He is forever changed.
But at least he got stats out of it.
Now that Table has gained enough stats, something shifts within him. It’s subtle at first—like a tiny ripple in a still pond. A strange, foreign sensation runs through his wooden frame. Like a scratch from the paw of a cat.
Wait.
He focuses. His legs—normally stiff and lifeless—feel just a little… less rigid. Not enough to move, but enough to twitch.
Oh!
He wills himself to move again. One leg nudges—barely, imperceptibly, but it happens.
He is evolving.
He will no longer be just a table. He will be a humping table.
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 99.9817%" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">Name</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">Table</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">Race</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">Animated Furniture (Table)</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">Class</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">None</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">Level</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">1</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">EXP</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">5/10</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">HP</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">6/6</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">MP</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">0</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">STR</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">2</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">END</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">5</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">AGI</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">14</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">PER</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">4</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">Skills</td>
<td style="width: 48.9863%">None</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>