Glimmertown - Chapter 4 - slu*tWriter (2024)

Chapter Text

“At first,” said the aged dwarf, “I didn’t mind gettin’ my prick sucked constantly. She was a real firebrand, that one.” He leaned back in his dilapidated chair, the stuffing of which was pouring out of several zig-zagging rips in the upholstery, and took a long draw on his pipe. His eyes were obscured behind goggles, which were themselves secondary to his enormous white eyebrows, which puffed out unkempt and stained with soot. “But then… well, it turns out just about anything can get boring after a while.”

“Aye,” Bunda replied. “All the best mountain stories start with a good prick sucking. But the reason we’re here-”

“Hold your oil,” the other said impatiently. “You pigeon-riders need to learn respect for your elders!” The two dwarves glared at each other. Despite their shared heritage, they couldn’t have been more different. Bunda, with her winged helmet and enormous blonde pigtails, looked every bit the warrior dwarf of the snowy peaks. The other was a digger, who emigrated to Glammer’Duin for his retirement, too old to swing a pick any longer. This automatically made them rivals.

“Oh, fuzzlenuts,” Fizzy piped up. She was wearing a brown cloak that was too large, with holes cut out for her enormous green ears. “If you two rockheads start arguing, we’ll never find out a thing.”

“Shut up!” Bunda said, shaking her gauntleted fist at Fizzy. “This old timer was just about to spill it. Weren’t you, Darga? Or are you too addled from all that time swallowin’ stones and sh*ttin’ ‘em out?”

“Keep running that mouth the way you are and I won’t tell you a rootin’ tootin’ thing!” Darga spat back, and then stuffed some more tobacco into his pipe. “I’m gettin’ to it, I said!”

And so, Fizzy and Bunda waited patiently. They were in an entirely different area of the slums than they usually frequented - all the way around the other side of the crystal towers that rose in the city center. It turned out, though, that the Glimmertown slums were the same just about everywhere - a multicultural melting pot of every race that couldn’t claim to have fair skin and pointy ears. The orcs, the gobbos, and the dark elves in the warrens, with the dwarves and humans at street level, skimming off the top.

Both of them had left Underhall Nine just ahead of a kill team, no doubt sent by Warden Kaleen, that mana-bombed and swept through their former hideout. The difference between life and death had been only four hours; it was as close as they dared cut it in order to haul equipment from Fizzy’s repurposed lair to a temporary spot, and they still had to leave plenty behind. Fizzy, who had complained bitterly about her hideout being destroyed by ‘those fuzzle-buzzling knife-ears’, now seemed to have a redoubled enthusiasm for revenge. As for Bunda, she needed nothing to persuade her that their cause was just - seeing what that bitch Kaleen had done to Tess was more than enough.

This was why they had followed rumors and whispers to the opposite side of the lower level, to a scrap-scattered tinker town where goblins and dwarf diggers sold ragged ore too impure to qualify for the elven markets. There, they found Darga - an old dwarf who claimed to know something of great interest.

“Now,” he wheezed, puffing his leaf. “Where was I?” The white hair around his ears was just as bedraggled and puffy as his eyebrows.

“Getting yer stinky old prick sucked,” Fizzy squeaked, impatiently. Judging from the look of the man’s filth-caked overalls, the girl who had fished his johnson out and gone to work on it had shown serious dedication. Not that Fizzy was one to judge, being a fan of huge, stinky dicks herself.

“Right,” Darga said. “Well, like I said - it grew strange. I knowed this human girl a piece, she sold me tin from time to time. Of the leavings of elfs who don’t know the value of a thing, and throw their cheap potion flasks in the gutter, she’d collect ‘em, and bring ‘em to me-”

“Hurry it up, old man,” Bunda barked, hands on hips. “Do I look like I’m interested in hearing about you pulling the dents on some poofy elf’s wine flagon?

Darga ignored her. “And when she asked me one day if she could suck my prick, I was right surprised,” he went on. “And like I said, I enjoyed it a good deal. But then she started comin’ by to do it, even when she had no scrap. And then she stopped comin’ by at all. And I asked Burgess, I says - ‘hey, how’s that hume girl with the big tit* not come around at all lately’ and old Burgess says to me, ‘aye, well I saw her in an alley just the evenin’ before last, slurpin on a big ol pair of orc pricks. Just goin’ to town on ‘em’. And I says, ‘don’t that just beat it all.’ The lass is already tired of this ol’ hose of mine and she’s slakin’ her thirst at some other spigot.’

“Wow, a couple of orcs were skull-f*cking her? That sounds hot! Did he say how big their co*cks were?” Fizzy piped up. Bunda smacked her in the head, causing her to wail. “Owwwwwwwwww!”

“Your point being, she was acting strange,” Bunda prompted, getting the old man back on course. And Darga nodded, fiddling with his pipe.

“Real strange. Eventually…” His voice trailed off, and then he hesitated, and looked up at them, flicking up the black lenses on his goggles to show bloodshot blue eyes. “Well, I didn’t mean to take advantage of nobody, you understand. But in time, I come to realize, something was making her act like that. And not just her.” He looked almost sad, and then leaned forward, gesturing for Bunda and Fizzy to approach.

“They was giving out… samples,” he whispered, looking around. “To those who needed money. High elves in hooded cloaks.”

Bunda rolled her eyes. High-elves in hooded cloaks was the most universal conspiracy theory in all of the slums. She’d heard it used to explain everything from an exploding cookstove to a bad run at the Magisterium tables. Darga, sensing this, shook his first with wide-eyed emphasis. “No!” he hissed. “This ain’t just crazy talk. I spoke with some who saw it happen. Each night, those who needed money would gather at a place near the inner wall - and a knife-ear would appear, with a case full of vials, with purple liquid in ‘em. And each time a slummy would come back for his dose, they’d toss a few coppers! And you know what else I heard?”

“What?” Bunda was now fully interested, the story dovetailed too much with their current predicament to be false. Especially the color of the potion, which sounded like a less concentrated version of what Fizzy had cooked up in her lab.

“I jaw with a security fellow named R’hone from time to time-”

“An elf?”

“Eye, but a half. He's nice enough, not his fault his father had the bad taste to bed one of those bitches. So, R’hone tells me, you know there’s been five rapes in the base level, in one section, just that week, and those are just the ones he knows about, that the victim complained. And I’m sayin’ to myself, well, sh*trocks, why don’t you get off your arse and do something? And he looks at me all apology-like, and you know what he says?”

“He’s not allowed,” Bunda finished, her eyes narrowing to an intense snarl. “They won’t let him, will they.”

“Aye.” Darga now looked positively mournful. “It’s been these last months. People actin’ strange… rutting and pawing… and then, a rape, or maybe the reverse, you know, a girl randy enough to put a rise into an old fellow like me. Maybe a girl prostitution’ herself when she swore she never would. Or maybe those that were whoring, doin’ things they swore they never would. Like two at a time, or maybe with a dog, or the like.”

Fizzy opened her mouth to say something and Bunda smacked her again before she could even speak, drawing another complaining, high-pitched moan.

“So what then? What happened to them?” Bunda prodded.

Darga suddenly looked scared. “They got worse and worse off - eventually, they was nothing but beasts, just beggin’ to be f*cked, or tryin’ to f*ck. Then, once they’d lost their minds and they was barely sentient beings… they just… disappeared.” He adjusted the overall straps on his weathered jumpsuit. “First they was horny, then they was too horny… and then they was gone. That’s about the shape of it. I know of about ten myself… and that’s just around here. Always vulnerable folks, always young. And like R’hone told me, wasn’t a thing investigated, wasn’t a thing done. Some new idea about the slums governing themselves, he says to me. Have you ever heard such mole-sh*t?”

“f*ckers,” Bunda grunted, shaking her head. “Those knife-ears would reach their thin little noses halfway to the outer wall if they smelled a taxable copper in a slummer’s pocket.” She adjusted her breastplate over her enormous bust. “What more can you tell us?”

Darga again looked side to side, as if being watched. “Might not be so smart to ask, pigeon-rider. But I can tell you where the samples was coming from, at any rate.” He drew his face closer, leaning forward off of his chair. “Brimbor.”

Of course. The Potionworks. Bunda looked at Fizzy. They both understood the importance of this piece of information. At first, their only goal had been to infiltrate the Central Spire and make Kaleen pay for murdering Tess. Now, it seemed that the plan of their enemy was more far-reaching than they’d suspected… and had been in motion for some time. It was impossible to forget the cyberseance, in which they’d seen the blank faces, the growling, bestial f*ck-lust of mindless, huge-co*cked males, surrounding her. That barely-thinking sexual stupor now sounded very familiar.

What’s more… they had felt it. An insatiable need to be f*cked.

“She’s f*ckin’ testing it in the slums,” Fizzy blurted, putting the pieces together. Even in spite of her relative insanity, and whilst thinking about having huge dicks shoved in her earholes, the cybermancer was a sharp one. “That sneaky fuzz-buzzler.”

“Testing it? Not for much longer. She’s got it. We’ve seen it,” Bunda added. “Ooh, I’ll polish my gauntlets with her blood.” Her head snapped up sharply toward Darga. “Can you get us in there, old man?”

“Into Brimbor?” Darga made a tsk noise and blew out pipe smoke. “You’d be arrested faster than a-”

“Let us worry about that,” Bunda interrupted. “Do you know a way?”

Darga’s said nothing for a moment. And then, his mouth curled into a satisfied smile. “Well, well. A high n’ mighty snow-sniffer needs the help of a tunnel boy like me. Don’t that beat all. I know one way in… but you’re not gonna like it.”

Bunda fetched a deep sigh. Fizzy looked up at her, confused. “What’s wrong?” the goblin asked.

“We’re going to have to dig, aren’t we?” Bunda said, sourly. And Darga started to laugh, slapping his knees, and enjoying every minute of her discomfort, until she finally told the old coot to shut up before she rammed her battle pole, Old Bess, straight through his ribcage.

She was a highmountain dwarf, descended from gryphon riders and thundercallers. Her ancestors had harnessed lightning, and their halls had been filled with the hum of clockwork. Only for a crucial cause would she dig.

But so it was. And so she would.

“Come on,” she grunted, grumpily. “Show us how.” And, she added silently, let’s hope to hell it won’t take too long.

Three days.

Three days of being milked, and poked and prodded, and feigning calm. Jak’Thur’s half-orc blood was boiling. He yearned to reach out at the next opportunity and snap Kaleen’s neck - only such a move did not guarantee success; on the contrary, it would place everyone in extreme danger.

Laying on the examination table, his co*ck draped heavily over one thigh, his balls fat and full, he recalled the urgent warnings that Fizzy and Vex had given, after a period of information gathering.

Her form may not be true. She may operate through one or more simulacra, or even project herself from a remote location. We must go into this with the expectation that she is very old, and very practiced in magic. She has some sort of fat pipeline connection to the Murmurs, which means she’s likely skilled in intelligence. She will have one or more bodyguards who will always be watching. She may have several cybermantic contingencies programmed in the case she’s incapacitated or harmed.

“f*ck all that,” Jak grumbled. Oh, how he yearned to wring Kaleen’s neck. Fizzy and Vex’s dossier had been thorough, and the plan was more or less proceeding as he’d hoped. The news that Bunda and Fizzy would soon be in position had arrived just the prior evening. But there were several things that had already happened that meant changing the plan. He could sense that Kaleen’s grand scheme, whatever it was, was almost finished. Her need even for him was coming to an end. Which meant they had to move soon.

Among the intelligence relayed to him by Vex, who had made contact while on patrol - and, trippily enough, while wearing an entirely different face and appearance - was the information that Kaleen would probably not kill him; she would, similar to the dark elf boy, keep him around as a large-co*cked, virile amusem*nt to sate her inhuman lusts, having nothing to do with her master plan (the details of which Jack still hadn’t been able to piece together) and everything to do with her own need to dominate and sexually exploit those under her control.

“f*ck if I’ll let that happen to me,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders and shifting his head to the side, causing the sinewy muscle in his neck to crackle. No, if it came to that… he’d make her kill him. If the infiltration failed, Vex and the others would probably be dead anyway. Jack had made the decision long ago that he and Vex were partners. They would make their trip to the top together, and if the fates were unkind, they would face the Urus, the orcish god of death, while standing side by side.

Jack had nothing but time. He was the decoy, after all - a large and muscled one - and that left him hour upon hour to contemplate the task at hand. He had no doubt that Kaleen was dangerously insane; the magical contingencies linked to any attempt to harm her were bound to be intricate. He would grip her throat and find himself gripping a clone, instantly swapped in from the aether by a complex series of cybermantic triggers. It would electrify and then explode, vaporizing him - or perhaps simply dissipate into a deadly poison. She was not just the serpent, but the queen of serpents. And to kill her? Insane as he was, that was liable to result in anything - including an explosion that would level the entire lab and half the slum beneath.

No, they had to completely sever her connection to her layers of prepared spells. That was outside his line - he was a half-orc used to smashing things to get his way.

It’s up to you, Vex, he thought, grimly. And then, uncharacteristically, gooseflesh pimpled up on his thigh and forearm in a sort of premonition. The door to the otherwise empty lab slid open, and the dark elf girl walked in - the one who seemed to be Kaleen’s personal fixer. As ever, she wore a visor over her eyes, and moved effortlessly and silently despite this impairment and the gilded claws on her toes.

It was the first time Jack had been alone in a room with her. The Murmur. She was lithe and graceful, much like Kaleen, but with a tighter and less sexualized body that was more athletic. Hew sinew and the perky size of her breasts reminded Jack of a circus acrobat. In another time, in another place, a dark elf like her might have given him quite the hardon - she was approximately Vex’s complexion, too, and he had no doubt she had the same shade of pale, pink nipples lighter than her skin color - but such things were now far from his mind.

“Dress,” the girl told him, her voice flat and inflectionless. Jack looked over to the nearby desk where his vest, pants, and gear were stowed - except his guns and knife of course. He co*cked an eyebrow at her questioningly.

“Am I being released?”

She was silent, giving no further information. He shifted his powerful, muscled body and slide from the table - his augmented co*ck lilted and swung like a pendulum as he moved. It was thick and virile even while completely flaccid, but the girl - Severine, she was called - did not react even slightly to its display. He had always been the object of speculative glances from females, even before the penis enhancement. He was handsome for a half-orc, with a powerful physique. From the girl, he felt no such interest… only a formless, pressurized attention.

She’s constantly evaluating the quickest way to kill me, he thought, gripping his vest and sliding an arm into it. The ammunition, he noted, had been removed from the pockets. Pants, boots, and jacket followed… and then he turned back toward her.

“What now?” he asked.

“You’re to come with me.”

“If I’m to die,” Jack replied, “I’d just as soon do it here. I hate wasting f*cking time, don’t you?”

“Come with me. Lady Keleen requires your presence.” No change in inflection, no hesitation.

Vex had briefed him about this girl, too, in what little time she had. A Murmur, the trained-from-birth assassin caste of the dark elves meant to serve the high elf overseers. As deadly in total darkness as in the light. An outside observer measuring up the two of them - a hulking half-orc fighter against a lithe, five-foot-tall pixie - would have bet on the half-orc with little hesitation. And yet his warrior’s instinct told him she was stronger than anything he’d ever faced.

He started to move, resolving to find out what he could. “Why does she need me?” he asked, walking two paces behind the girl as they approached the door.

“To observe.”

“Observe what?”

No answer. They made their way out into the hall. There were no guards anywhere - indeed, the entire lab was scarily quiet. Severine turned in the direction leading to the large, glass-paneled elevator which moved between the levels of the central area, from the slums, all the way up to the crystal spires where elf-bastards in boardrooms ruled Glimmertown with a perfumed, alabaster fist.

“You’re not allowed to tell me?” he asked. He was already glancing around and formulating a plan, if it came to that. The elevator was a cylinder about eight feet across; there was little room to maneuver inside.

“Your heart rate is elevated,” Severine commented, not turning around.

“I don’t like getting led to places for no reason,” Jack said, sourly, and concealing - he hoped - the true reason for his rising excitement and the escalating burn of his orcish blood. “It makes me angry. So tell me what you can tell me. You might be a pawn, but I’m not.” He clenched his fists. They were perhaps thirty seconds away from reaching the elevator.

Severine was silent for a second, and then she said: “I am permitted to tell you that we are aware of your friends, and of your plan.”

Only with difficulty did Jack contain his thunderstruck feelings at this statement; and in any case, his minor tics and changes in breathing and pulse probably stood out to the girl like blaring signs. The first words to come to his mind were too early. Vex was to spring her trap that night; he had been tasked with keeping Kaleen occupied if he could. But the magestrix had not even shown up for lab testing that morning, and now he knew why. It was not evening, Severine had arrived to collect him more than an hour short of noon.

Vex was in danger. The pieces were not yet in place.

“What friends?” he asked. “My friends all fled the city, taking the safe passage that was promised in exchange for my blood.”

The girl did not respond. Perhaps such lies were beneath two warriors. He had killed a few people - ten or so - in his time as a merc and runner. But killing had never been his purpose, it had been in self defense, or in defense of Vex. As for the girl… he suspected her body count was much higher. And between two beings of that stripe… falsehoods tended to dissipate like smoke.

He still had options. His fists, his strength… and a trump card. A piece of information that Vex had whispered in his ear the prior evening - along with a kiss - and told him not to use unless the time was right.

The elevator was ten paces away.

“She wants me to watch,” Jack stated. “When she kills my friends. She won’t spring her trap until I’m there”

“Yes.” The ensorcelled glass doors detected their presence with an arcane eye and slid open. They stepped inside - first she, then he. They turned. The doors closed. And then, Severine actually turned toward him. “You’re brave,” she said. It sounded like a compliment; almost like something you’d hear from your little sister. In fact, it was so similar to his first meeting with vex, back at the orphanhome, that Jack felt a sudden burst of nostalgia.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You intend to attack me,” Severine said, evenly. “You have tried to extract as much information as you could from me, to understand your situation. Now that you know that time is a factor, you will attempt to delay as much as possible. You believe the confines of the elevator will negate my advantage in agility and allow size to prevail.”

“You’re smart for a pipsqueak, you know that?” Jack breathed, and cracked his knuckles again.

“It is too bad,” Severine said.

“What is?”

“That here, your bravery will only hurt you.”

Jack’s lip curled up, revealing more of one of his protruding canines. “Kid,” he growled. “I like you better than your mistress. But you’ve got a lot to learn.”

Her hand crept smoothly across her hip bone toward the handle of her blade, which was holstered directly in the center of her back, and gripped the hilt. The elevator started to move, causing the light level to flicker as the glass panels oscillated between brightly-lit halls and dark expanses of metal between floors. Each floor made a sound. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. The sounds grew faster as the elevator picked up speed.

Time, Jack thought. Vex and the others just need time.

Seconds later, giving out a blood-curdling battle cry, Jak’Thur clenched his fists and waded in.

The aqueducts beneath Glimmertown were as varied and twisted as the populace itself. Layer upon layer that had been added to and truncated and built upon, such that no unified set of blueprints could ever track what was where. As one descended from the street, richly-appointed elven sewer lines gave way to the rough-hewn dwarf waterways of the conquered, and then in turn to a mish-mash of goblin-built sluices that were little more than tubes. And below that? Gods only knew.

For this reason, the directions provided by the old digger, Darga, were the only way that Bunda and Fizzy could navigate the tunnels with anything resembling accuracy. They started low to avoid security, using a portable dwarf-made excavating drill to bypass magical checkpoints and arcane eyes. Now, covered in dirt, hopelessly lost and unspeakably grumpy, the ill-tempered partners found they had arrived at something they couldn’t recognize.

Blueprints and scans informed them that they should be approximately below the Brimbor Potionworks, at the place where the great glass blowers would draw up water from the aquifer, purifying it, adding prepared magic and coloring - purple was the preferred shade - and thus producing hundreds upon hundreds of healing draughts an hour. The two spelunking allies had expected a series of ancient, vertical pipes that they could follow up to the main floor.

Instead, they found a sophisticated culvert composed of lavender crystal and gilded porcelain. Freshly constructed, expensive-looking, and perhaps two paces wide.

“What the f*ck is this happy knife-ear sh*t?” Bunda grunted, kicking at it with one metal boot. There was a reverberating clank that echoed in the tunnel. Water was running beside them in a channel about three paces across - and the crystal-inlaid pipe, which descended from the level above and then ran parallel to the water supply before diving below - was clearly a new addition, barren of the dust and disuse that permeated so much of the underway.

“It’s new, probably from this month!” Fizzy assessed. “It even has a control panel!” So it did - a hinged, golden casing with a magical lock. Fizzy pointed her staff and muttered an incantation; disembodied numbers floated in the air like a ghostly math problem. Bunda, who was lugging the drill they would use to break through the factory floor and gain access, grunted impatiently.

“Whatever you’re doing, do it f*ckin’ fast. These tree-f*ckers love their patrols.”

“Hold your farts, I’m workin!”

Seconds later, and just before Bunda was about to reach out and conk Fizzy on the head to secure her attention, the encryption was broken. Fizzy, instead of celebrating, looked a bit confused. “That was a new one,” she explained. “Never saw that sort of mage-lock before-”

Bunda rolled her eyes. “If you don’t mind, I’d like Vex and Jack not to be killed for lack of us not doing our part!” she scolded. “Now what does it say? Does it draw the water? Can we follow it to the surface?”

Fizzy’s wide eyes were alight with flickering cybermantic code; she absorbed the information faster than any normal being could hope to, and after a moment, shook her head no. Bunda immediately blustered, her breasts bouncing in prelude to the epithets she was about to unleash. “You useless f*ckin’ sh*tass-”

“It doesn’t draw the water,” Fizzy said, sparing herself from a clouting.

“So what does it do? Dance the f*ckin’ ogre waltz? Out with it!” The dwarf female was out of patience. They were already behind schedule; and the part they had to play was a crucial one.

“It’s designed for outflow,” Fizzy said. “To right here, into the aquifer. Not the waste pools.”

Bunda threw up her hands. Her thick, braided pigtails, emerging from beneath her helmet, bounced on her stout back. “Why in f*ck would they add a new pipe to-” Her eyes widened. She fell silent.

“You mean… they’re going to dump that serum… into the drinking water?” Fizzy nodded her head, solemnly. Bunda clenched her fists. “That damn bitch! This is too much. It’s totally-”

“-brilliant!” Fizzy finished, looking excited. “It’s just what I would do if I wanted to turn the whole lower city into a bunch of horny f*ckbuzzlers!” She grinned villainously. “Ooh, just think about how big everyone’s co*cks will be once they get a dose of this stuff! Suckin’, f*ckin’, actin’ like animals… it’ll be one big orgy!” She clapped her hands together and then rubbed the palms fiendishly, obviously getting turned on by her own megalomaniacal fantasies. “Ohohoho, I wish I had thought of using the water supply - you all would be my helpless puppets- owwww!”

Fizzy rubbed her head where Bunda had struck her. “For a moment, you made yourself useful enough that I forgot you’re an insane little co*ck-goblin guilty of kidnapping, among other f*ckery.” the dwarf admonished. “I don’t know why Jack didn’t just smash your head in!”

“He thought I deserved a second chance!” Fizzy objected, earnestly. There was no point in further argument. Both of them turned their heads up to the brickwork above. They were close - but the new pipe wasn’t on any of the plans they’d looked at. There could be other changes ahead as well.

Fizzy expression was looking quite guilty, which didn’t go unnoticed by Bunda. “There’s one other thing,” the goblin said. “It’s kinda important.” The way she was hiding her hands behind her back and avoiding eye contact made it obvious that this piece of information wasn’t one she was eager to share.

Bunda glowered and hefted the drill, a sonic spin device with an attached gravity belt that negated much of the weight, as well as sound dampening enchantment. Any falling rocks and friction would be silent. “What is it, Fizzy?”

“Well, that ji*zz-bizzling control panel was all newfangled, right?”

“Right.”

“And I never saw one like it before.”

“You said that.” Bunda was growing impatient. And then, for the first time, she heard football in the distant tunnels. Her eyes narrowed further and her expressive face twisted into a frown. “Fizzy,” she growled. “What did you do?”

“Well,” the goblin said, sheepishly, “it’s not my fault there was a high magic alarm on the darned thing!”

Bunda released the drill - let it float, really, suspended by the gravity harness - and reached out to wring Fizzy’s neck. “An alarm has been going off this whole time and you didn’t say anything! How buttf*cking stupid are you?”

“Sorry!” Fizzy said, struggling to breathe.

More footsteps in the distance, a raised voice or two. Bunda estimated they had only a few minutes. Their role in the plan was a crucial one, the entire operation to defeat Kaleen was now hanging in the balance. If Jack and Vex were left without their support, the entire thing would fail, and they would all die… probably after being tortured to death.

“sh*t, sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t!” Bunda ranted, dropping Fizzy down. She glanced at the ceiling, then at the strange, newly-installed crystal pipeline. Finally, she looked down to her belt, where beside the attached harness hung a stasis satchel, meant to protect sensitive items from jostling and impacts. Taking the satchel, she offered it to Fizzy.

“You have one minute,” she told the goblin. “If you want to make up for being such a sh*t, this is your chance.” She handed Fizzy the bag and nodded toward the pipe. Above, someone was already approaching the access hatch. “Be quick.”

“I will!” Fizzy said, taking the bag. She knew what she had to do. It wasn’t the original plan… but as a goblin, she respected the indiscriminate nature of Plan B. “And… when they come down- try not to die!”

Bunda had no intention of dying. But if she was destined to, she was going to take a few knife-ear scum with her. Unhitching the drill and letting it settle to the ground, she produced her battle pole, Old Bess.

Hurry, Fizzy, she thought. Or it’s all for nothing.

Vex knew her arrest might come at some point - it was no true surprise when she found herself immobilized by a paralysis field and asked, in that stereotypically effete high elf way, just what a low-dweller like her thought she was doing among her betters.

Originally, she had hoped to remain hidden just one more day, perhaps even as little as eight additional hours, so that all the pieces would be in place. In the most successful version of the plan to take revenge on Kaleen, she would escort the bitch to the Brimbor Potionworks herself, delivering her into the trap, all while wearing the disguise of one of her patrolling, halberd-wielding guards.

But things had accelerated, things had changed. Plan B was now in effect, a contingency she’d arranged in case Kaleen herself or the canny dark elf murmur girl had smelled a rat. Now, instead of leading Kaleen to the snare, she found herself magically subdued, stripped of her disguise… and being forcefully dragged.

Time, she thought. Was there enough time?

“You are not as clever as you think you are,” her armored high elf captor said, full of arrogance. His eyes were obscured by the visor of his ceramic helmet, the same model she’d just had roughly pulled from her shoulders to reveal her dark elf skin and bright purple hair. “As you must imagine, the Warden has quite a list of questions she wishes to ask you, about the extent of your operation, and any secrets that might be held by your nefarious lowborn friends.”

Two guards were holding her by the crooks of her elbows with her hands bound behind her back. Elites. Fighting back was no longer an option. “I’m not saying sh*t,” Vex spat back. These were obviously the troubleshooters of the security force. It would not surprise him if they were the same who had been tasked with trying to track and eliminate Fizzy, Bunda. Probably the same who had destroyed the old hideout.

“You will talk,” the tall, regal-voiced high elf replied. “We have ways of being very persuasive in this regard.”

Vex closed her eyes as she was hauled into an elevator. There was one silver lining to her capture, early as it was. She was being taken to Brimbor. She knew from closely observing Kaleen and surveilling her itinerary that the Warden was due to make a crucial inspection there.

“You will be required to make several public statements admitting to an attempted assassination, disavowing your friends, and praising the efficiency of our highborne security forces,” the guard captain went on, smiling sad*stically as he did so. “We shall use you as an example of the danger of the multicultural terrorist cells operating in the wretched base level of this city. Deep dwellers. Greenskins. Mongrels and remnants of the warbands. In fear of your kind, the people will gladly accept our security - and a reduction in their so-called freedoms.”

“How very… generous of you,” Vex grumbled. She would not give him the satisfaction of looking angry or afraid. Indeed, she was glad her illusory disguise had been neutralized… she would descend to Brimbor, and face whatever awaited her, as herself. Dark skinned and pink-haired, straight out of the orphanhomes, where she had scrawled magical ink graffiti as young as thirteen, decrying the high elves as a bunch of ‘bitches’.

“We are generous people.” The elevator whirred, the passing floors became a violet blur. Unlike the lab, Brimbor was very near the base level - the main warehouse was separated from the streets of Glimmertown’s slum only by security checkpoints and an enormously thick wall. Vex felt her heart begin to beat faster. There was a reckoning coming, she could sense Kaleen’s murderous, vile presence ahead.

Please. Please, please, please. Vex had no connection to the gods of her people; she had been raised in a melting pot of bored students absorbing highborne lessons that they all hated and ignored, stories about fey-featured waifs driving chariots across the moon and the great trees of the old kingdoms. Now, even though she could barely remember or pronounce their names, she prayed for the first time, to the underground, and the dark, and the night.

To the gods of the street. The gods of the real Glimmertown.

The elevator slowed, then stopped. The arrogant guard prodded her forward through a small connecting hallway… and then a much larger set of doors opened into the main delivery bay, from which tens of thousands of potions would be placed on trucks and highborne skyskiffs to be distributed to the masses. A huge hall, with racks on racks on racks of gleaming potion palettes rising to the ceiling in towers of glassware.

Kaleen was waiting too.

Her dress, gilded in gold and violet crystal, made her look like a queen. It had a plunging neckline that showed off her massive breasts. Vex took in the scene as quickly as she could. In addition to the enormous potion stacks, there was something she hadn’t expected - a large crystal pipeline, newly-installed, descending from the enormous brewing vats and down into the substructure. The air had a strange scent; the brewers had no doubt been hard at work that morning.

There was something else unexpected - a series of mana-cages, the bars flicking an ephemeral pink color, with wretched-looking, caged humanoids within - perhaps as many as thirty or forty of them. They were all naked, and as far as Kaleen could tell, all male. Their maleness was impossible to miss, because whether they were human, elf, dwarf, goblin, orc or anything in between, their oversized, dripping, malformed penises hung enormous. They were so bulbous, they looked to belong on bodies that were three times as large, with heavy, sloshing ballsacks that quivered with the production of disfigured, oversized sem*n. Their eyes were blank with rut, many were masturbating, many were gibbering and hooting at Vex’s presence, drooling as she approached.

There could be no doubt that these were the subjects of Kaleen’s early experiments with the succubus serum - the same group of beasts who had raped Tess Vallen.

“Welcome!” Kaleen called out. Vex was dragged toward the center of the room and forced to her knees, her buttocks bouncing in tight leather as she hit the deck. A hand gripped her hair and forced her to lift her chin and look at the high elf Warden. “You must be the famous Vex.”

Vex didn’t respond right away; she was still trying to make full sense of the situation. Now that she was further into the enormous room, she noticed she was not the only captive present. Another set of guards - two halberd-wielding regulars and a captain - were off to the side, keeping watch on two more captives.

Short captives. A pigtailed dwarf female with tit* like bowling balls and buttocks like hams… and an even shorter goblin with large ears and more ass than could reasonably fit in such a diminutive package. It seemed that Bunda and Fizzy had been captured… and this was not part of Plan A or Plan B.

Vex’s eyes went wide and she shot a questioning look to the two - a look that said: Is it done? Bunda surreptitiously gave a non-verbal hand movement they’d agreed on, which meant yes. But that only raised more questions, questions their signals couldn’t cover.

Questions like “How did you get captured? Is everything in place? Did they search you?” Or just maybe, “Do you two still have the f*cking detonator?”

Bunda and Fizzy gave nothing away, but Kaleen noticed Vex’s look, and gave a low and confident laugh. “Surprised to see that your terrorist friends have failed?” she taunted, walking toward Vex in white, gilded heels that clacked hollowly on the industrial flooring. Her hips worked like those of a dancer, even when she was in villainess mode. “Your amateurish attempt to sneak in from below was… well. Frankly, rather embarrassing.”

Kaleen’s movement forward revealed that someone had been standing behind her - a much smaller figure, dressed in that specially-tailored high elf officer’s uniform, like a little general. Durandal. The boy had an apologetic expression on his face as he beheld Vex captured…and winced when Kaleen swung her slender arm and slapped Vex in the face viciously.

“Did you really think you could turn my beautiful boy against me?” Kaleen seethed, now gripping Vex’s hair and pouring venomous words down into her face. “You stupid lowborn slu*t. He came to me in the wake of your clumsy seduction and told me everything. Your entire plan, and your wicked attempt to enlist him in it.” She spit in Vex’s face, an enormous amount of bubbly white froth.

Durandal was hanging his head; as if he couldn’t bear to look at Vex after the tender moment they had shared. “I have quite a punishment planned for you,” Kaleen went on. “But first, I believe there’s one member of your merry band that isn’t accounted for.” She raised a hand and snapped her finger, it echoed in the large, industrial chamber. A door opened from the opposite end of the room from the elevator, the overseer’s office.

Vex’s saw Jack emerge… but he wasn’t walking. He was being dragged by his jacket, which was torn. Dragged by a tiny elf girl half his size, for whom such an act of strength should have been impossible. But Severine, the Murmur, was pulling his limp body along as easily as leading a dog on a leash. He seemed to be suffering from serious injuries, bleeding from a dozen places. His face was bruised. One shoulder was obviously dislocated. For one terrible, heart-wrenching moment, Vex thought that her longtime partner was actually dead. But then, the girl tossed him forward onto the ground, next to Kaleen, and he uttered a grunt of pain.

Alive. Still alive, then.

“Jack!” Vex cried out, and moved to cradle his head. There was no subterfuge in this emotion, only a desire to comfort him and soothe his injuries, as she had done many times after tough jobs. He was, and always had been, battered and bloodied and scarred and hers. His voice was weak and he could barely get an arm up.

“Sorry, kid,” he grunted, his voice startlingly weak. “The little bitch… is tougher… than she looks.”

Vex looked up at Severine. The bodysuited, agile girl only looked back at her pitilessly… or as much as she could look at anything, wearing that mask over her eyes.

“Jack… don’t talk.”

“Looks like… this is the end of the road for us.” And he somehow managed to smile, in spite of his bruised face, and Vex burst out crying. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to show Kaleen any weakness, but her tears couldn’t help but flow at the idea that this was really it, after twenty years. They had been kids together. Friends. Partners. Lovers.

Kaleen separated the two of them with a cruel shove of her foot. “Your beloved will get to see you suffer before you both die,” she decreed, and gestured toward the mana cages, where the gibbering, horny sexual beasts within were gathered by the bars, looking out at Vex’s ripe and voluptuous body.

With Severine standing nearby, making sure neither Jack nor Vex tried anything, Kaleen knelt, directing Vex’s gaze to the cages. “Look at them,” she said, her voice dark and regal. “Lowborn races reduced to their base natures. They will be the last thing you ever see in this world… you will join your friend Tess in pleasing them until your dying breath. Their huge penises haven’t been washed, ever - I have seen to it. My experiments have moved beyond the need for them, and now their broken minds seek only to abuse and rape every female they see.”

She used the butt of her staff to push Vex over onto her hip, standing over her with Durandal, his young face quivering and wide-eyed, holding into her arm. “You will be beaten and raped in every hole, and your weakling, half-orc boyfriend will be forced to watch, his body broken. The same goes for your other friends as well.” She gestured toward Bunda and Fizzy. “It will be my pleasure to see the foul-mouthed dwarfess silenced by a co*ck in her vulgar throat. And as for the goblin… she will make an excellent dick sleeve, don’t you agree?”

She stooped down to hover over Vex.

“It is poetic,” she purred. “That the ugliness of your own kind will be your downfall. The wretched street trash you called ‘neighbor’... will rape you for days, even as the new pipeline is turned on. You are very defiant, and determined… you might last a few days before madness takes you.” She tossed back her head and laughed, making her breasts jiggle. Jack tried to move, to reach out a hand, but Severine slapped it away and drew her blade, now poised to sink it into the base of Jack’s neck, or behead him instantly.

Kaleen now squatted next to Vex. “Look at that half-ogre,” she purred, pointing out the tallest and thickest captive. “His huge, reeking penis is thirty inches long and constantly leaking cum and piss. It smells so bad that flies are constantly buzzing around it. But you will learn to love it. Your womb will be rendered worthless by disgusting ogre co*ck… and you will beg for more. You and your comrades will be f*cked to death, you will be seedbeds for all of these twisted, oversized co*cks-”

“That’s frickin’ hot!” someone called out. Someone with a high voice. Kaleen blinked, and then looked over to Fizzy. The goblin turned on by the images of debauchery and the huge number of massive co*cks in the mana cells - ranging from 12 to 30 inches in length, many with enormous, tumor-bloated balls no doubt capable of producing huge and disgusting loads of cum - hadn’t been able to control herself.

Bunda struck her a blow, but had her arms quickly subdued by the guards. “Damn it, Fizzy! Read the f*ckin’ room!”

In the moment of distraction that followed, Vex looked at Bunda again - and again, received the subtle signal that their portion of the plan was at least ‘partially’ done.

“You want to see your comrade get raped, do you?” Kaleen asked, bemused.

Fizzy shrugged. “If we’re gonna die anyway, we should at least have some fun!” She pointed over to the well-beaten Jack. “Hey, he’s got a super-big co*ck… so… let’s try somethin’! I heard of you find a guy with a really big co*ck, and f*ck him while he’s getting his head chopped off, his body will go craaaaaaaaaazy and thrust real fast, and it’ll feel real good!” She bounced to her feet. “We should do that! Let me f*ck’em, and make stupid old Vex watch! She’s always hogging his attention anyway - she was the one who came up with this whole plan! The big guy is just a dumb idiot who followed her orders - she’s the one you want to make watch and suffer anway!”

Vex’s mouth was now hanging open with utter shock. Suffice it to say, this had not been part of any plan.

“You little sh*t,” Jack growled. “We should have killed you when we had the chance!” Fizzy responded by sticking out her tongue, and then, all was interrupted by laughter - evil and high and raucous. Kaleen was cackling hard enough to make her shoulders tremble.

“Oh!” she cried, wiping tears from her eyes as she looked down at Vex. “This is quite a crew you’ve assembled!” She took a deep breath, and then her mouth curled up in a smile. “Very well,” she said, and then poked her staff out into Vex’s ribcage as she gave the order. “Get his co*ck hard, whor*, so the goblin may f*ck him.” Vex looked up disbelievingly, and Kaleen persisted. “Suck his co*ck hard… so your greenskin partner can feel the mortal throes of his dying dick. I no longer need him - the serum is complete.” When Vex still seemed paralyzed, Kaleen nodded impatiently toward the guard captain. “Make her,” she said.

And so they did. They forced her into position, over a prone Jack, jabbing her with their halberd hafts if she hesitated even a second with the removal of his torn pants and combat boots. His penis - big, long, thick, and flaccid - hung enormous over one muscled thigh. Vex felt a pang of despair to see the huge, purple bruises that decorated his hips.

“Make her suck it. Make her choke on his co*ck.” The guards forced her head down and toward the massive tip, and now there was no hiding the sad*stic light in Kaleen’s eyes - she had planned to see Vex raped to death, but this utter disgrace would be, to her, a welcome diversion. Fizzy’s betrayal, the death of her boyfriend while f*cking her own ally, excited her cruel nature.

Durandal tried to turn away as the guards forced Vex down onto Jack’s co*ck; even as she refused to take hold of it, they first started to beat her, and then to beat the helpless Jack, until she complied. Kaleen wouldn’t allow it, she collected him and straightened his head so he was forced to watch. Soon, with tear-stained cheeks, Vex was sloppily fellating that big, flaccid penis. Even without being hard, it was a monster.

Vex herself did not know what would happen from that moment forward - she had received mixed signals, she did not know what elements of their plan were still in place and which had been neutralized. Fizzy’s outburst had completely surprised her. What she was doing was a pantomime of sex, but nothing more - the situation was a horror, the opposite of romantic. And thus, Jack’s meat remained flaccid.

“Come onnnnnn, stupid!” Fizzy whined. “You’ve gotta get it hard!

Vex pulled her mouth off and glanced over at Fizzy with rage. “f*ck you!” she cried. “I’ll kill you!” And in that instant, she saw that Bunda’s eyes were avid, and trying to capture her attention… and again, the signal was being given with the flick of one thumb. Charges planted.

But where? And how were they to set them off, if they were captured?

“Come on, hurry up! I’ll come over there and show you how to do it!” Fizzy cried out again, and actually started to move toward them, only to be thrown to the ground by the guards. Her sneaking bodysuit left very little to the imagination, she carried no equipment, she’d been stripped of her belt and tools.

Vex gulped and reached out to Jack’s co*ck again. They exchanged a glance… and then, with a tear in her eye, Vex spoke. “If this is the way it has to end, Jack,” Vex said. “I’ll be the one to carry you to Urus and lay you down on your shield.” She captured his eyes, made him feel her hands on his shaft… and then, suddenly, it was like they were alone. No guards, no Kaleen, no godforsaken mess.

This time, she really started to suck. To make love to his fat co*ck with her mouth. Kissing it for both her pleasure and his. Breathing over it, letting it stretch and penetrate her throat… and making sure he knew that she liked it, that she wanted to pleasure him, to be his wife and his concubine and his war prize, his partner and his friend. And even though Kaleen was laughing, kneeling next to Vex and telling her that she was about to suck her beloved’s death load out of a goblin’s c*nt, that she would be showered in a fountain of blood while she watched that traitor f*ck him, neither one of them even heard it.

It was, as ever, just the two of them. And this time, Jack’s co*ck responded. It rose, thickened, hardened. Vex found herself grateful for the escape of pleasing him; if the plan was to fail and she should die, this was as good a final hurrah as any. After a minute more, when she pulled her head off the knob with a heavy burst of breath and spittle, it was towering to full height, balls twitching, ready to f*ck even as the rest of Jack’s body lay broken.

“Come here and f*ck him, goblin,” Kaleen prompted, caressing Jack’s co*ck. “My servant will do the honor of beheading him when the time comes.”

Severine drew her sword; it sang a note in the air as it gleamed. Fizzy was released by the guards, prancing eagerly over to the spot where the foul deed would take place. All eyes were on her, but Vex didn’t look at her - she looked at Bunda, now daring to mouth ‘where’s the detonator?’ at the dwarf when she was quite sure Kaleen wasn’t observing her.

Bunda nodded silently toward Fizzy. Fizzy, who had no doubt been thoroughly searched for all manner of weapons and contraband upon her capture. It was then, and only then, that Vex realized what was going on.

Fizzy tore a hole in her bodysuit, revealing her small, shortstack butt-mounds, and wiggled her ass against Jack’s co*ck. “Sorry, Vex… it couldn’t be helped!” she said, and then bent Jack’s co*ck at a forty-five degree angle so she could start to insert it into her puffy green puss*. The size difference was obscene, and that was what captured Kaleen’s attention.

“In we go!” Fizzy grunted, struggling to stuff Jack’s knob into her quim. “Hold on to your hats!”

Vex saw Bunda dive away from the crystalline pipe, surprising the dumbfounded guards. At the same time, Fizzy enthusiastically pushed all of her weight down onto Jack’s co*ck, letting it ram as far up into her puss* as it could reach. There was a wet squelch… and then a beeping noise. Coming from inside Fizzy. Kaleen’s eyes first narrowed, then widened.

In the scant time available… Fizzy had planted the charges… and hidden the detonator in the only place available.

Her c*nt!

“Booyah!” Fizzy cried.

A series of rumbling explosions thumped the entire building like a tuning fork, then grew sharper and louder before culminating in a fiery blast beneath the new pipeline. Crystal and porcelain shards erupted as the pipe was sheared away and the entire right third of the warehouse floor started to collapse into the waterway. Several of the closest guards were tossed away by the blast. A massive outflow of purple liquid - the concentrated serum that Kaleen had been planning to add to the Glimmertown aquifer - started to pour into the newly-created hole like a massive waterfall.

“No!” Kaleen cried. “NO!” She threw up her arms. A great golden aura of interconnected energy enveloped the area, emanating from the sorceress herself. Her feet levitated off the ground and she held up her staff, concentrating her power. She was indeed a strong spellcaster, much too powerful for them to have ever defeated straight up, and this proved it. Vex looked in amazement as shards of crystal were suspended in mid-air, the rush of liquid stood motionless, and mana cages, which were falling down into the crevasse, seemed to float.

“You will suffer for this,” Kaleen seethed at Vex. “You will all suffer… so much.” And then, she gritted her teeth, and the destruction slowly started to reverse. She seemed to be in control of every sliver of flying glass and concrete; Vex watched in terror as shattered potion bottles and sections of floor were reconstituting themselves. She could do nothing - even moving her arm felt like swimming in thick jelly. The same seemed to be true of Jack, and Bunda, and Fizzy (who was org*sming on Jack’s co*ck in slow-motion, eyes crossed).

It was just as Kaleen’s sad*stic face started to twist into an expression of triumph that everything changed again, and her mouth opened in shock. With a satisfying sound - like a knife stabbing into a delicious roast - her body reacted to an impact from behind, and the golden field restricting the explosions and damage seemed to shatter and dissipate. Blue-gold lightning coruscated over her body and she fell to her knees in agony.

There was a mana spike - a dagger-like disrupting instrument about five inches long, with a roughly triangular blade - buried in the small of her back. And it was Durandal - the boy - who had stabbed it in.

Vex had told him to keep it secreted away; and to use it at the crucial time; none of the rest of them would be able to get close enough, or to stand so near Kaleen without her defenses being up. The expensive mage-neutralizing tool had one purpose - to disrupt ongoing spells, and most importantly, to sever magic-users from their sources of power. Because of their efficacy against highborn magic, which did not depend on cybergear, they were a banned item in Glimmertown, a favorite tool of dark elf resistance cells.

Durandal’s betrayal had been a ruse all along; he had only pretended to give Kaleen information about Vex and the others.

There was a second explosion as Kaleen’s power detonated. The time distortion effect was gone, more of the flooring crumbled into the ground as the massive purple outflow from the pipe washed it away, and after being thrown several feet, Vex had to scramble to avoid falling into the widening river and whirlpool. With great satisfaction, she struggled with the high elf guard captain and kicked him into the hole, where he was carried away by the tide of serum, flailing alongside the mana cages, rocks, and chunks of crystal.

Kaleen struggled to her feet, reaching behind herself where the smoking, sparking mana spike was hanging out of her back, turning slowly toward Durandal. “You…” she croaked. “You!” She finally got hold of the spike and removed it, tossing it to the ground. “I was… your mother!”

But they all knew that wasn’t true, Durandal most of all. Even before their eyes now, Kaleen was changing. She was old - centuries old - and the spike had not only severed her contingency spells (among others, the automatic teleportation and resurrection of her body if she was ever killed, along with a stasis field to catch the perpetrators), but also dispelled illusions that she used to maintain her beautiful, youthful, and regal appearance.

“I’ll… kill you… first!” Her voice was a harpy squawk. Her hair was long and sweaty, barely blonde. She was at least fifty pounds heavier, with much wider, motherly hips. Her breasts were not the perfectly-proportioned, enormous funbags she’d shown before, but an absolutely huge pair of sow tit* with enormous nipples that bulged in her ill-fitting dress. This was the real Kaleen - an enormously greedy, horny, co*ck-devouring mega-MILF who looked more slovenly and co*ck-piggish than a sex-addled troll hag. It was clear that she had existed in the office of Warden, hidden from view, getting hornier, nastier, and slu*ttier, for hundreds of years - a bloated spider in a web of sexual playthings that she used to sate her grotesque appetites.

She raised her staff to launch an attack that would have incinerated Durandal, but was tackled by something short and thick moving at high speed - Bunda. “You’ll do nothing, you fat whor*!” the dwarf cried. The two became entangled for a moment… until a powerful beam of energy exploded outward and shot Bunda, all two-hundred pounds of her, directly into one of the potion stacks, causing it to collapse on top of her in a cascade of glass.

Severine had been knocked backward by the explosions; this was probably the only reason any of them were still alive… but she was getting to her feet and now approaching, sword raised. In the mayhem, and the continuing floor collapse and tumbling potion bottles from the walls, Severine cried out in her now-haggard voice. “Kill him,” she told Severine, referring to Jack, who, too injured to move, was still laying on the floor. “Then kill her.”

She raised her staff again, Durandal was cowering in front of her. Vex tried to move toward her, but was instantly snapped up in a tight stasis field, a golden cocoon of magical strands, summoned by Kaleen’s free hand.

Again, Severine was ten paces away. A distance she could cover instantly. All Vex could hope for was the information she had whispered to Jack; the trump card that Duranda had found in Kaleen’s files, and passed on to her, so that she, in turn, could pass it to her partner, the person who mattered most to her in the world.

I hope you practiced your pronunciation, Jack, Vex thought.

Jack looked at the young girl who was about to behead him, and, flawlessly, recited a phrase.

“Vosst xinanath 'che weth byr, lu'nind 'che vos.”

A phrase in a language he had never spoken, given with the last of his strength before the fall of the blade. A memetic skeleton key to the repressed memories of a girl who had learned to kill before she learned what love was.

And Severine stopped in her tracks. The blade did not fall; Jack’s head did not roll. They simply stood, staring at each other. Kaleen noticed this, too, and her face drew into an even more furious grimace at Severine’s sudden hesitation.

“Do it!” she roared. “What are you waiting for? Kill him. Kill him!”

Severine did not move for several more seconds. Jack’s life hung in the balance as she co*cked her head, seeming to consider something. She looked at Jack, and then at Vex, who was strung up by magic, and Durandal, the boy shivering in his vulnerability, who had been so brave in the execution of the plan, pretending to betray Vex when he really hadn’t. And then, finally, she looked at Kaleen, an unhinged woman out of her mind with fury.

Severine sheathed her sword.

Vosst xinanath 'che weth byr, lu'nind 'che vos. In the dark elf tongue, Jack had told her: “Your parents loved each other, and they loved you too.”

Those incinerated figures, burned permanently into a lover’s embrace… her last memory before being taken away to begin her killing journey. She had been told they were debauched pigs, that allegiance to the highborne was service to light instead of darkness.

“You stupid, useless girl!” Kaleen went on. “Kill! Kill! Kill them all!” She began to gather power to destroy Durandal, and to incinerate Vex within her cocoon of light. Vex could actually feel the hair on her arms begin to singe, she knew in a second, she would be ash. She cried out Jack’s name, a worthy dying breath.

Severine did not need a second, only a fraction of one. There was only one pig here; one darkness. She closed the distance between herself and Kaleen in what seemed like an instant, and it was only by redirecting all of her magical energies that the highborne sorceress could shield against the blade strike that would have disemboweled her. Instead, there was a great golden flash as the mana barrier shattered. For the third time, everyone was blown backward by explosions.

Vex was free of her cocoon. The haze of magical energy cleared. Kaleen was now hanging by one hand, clutching an outcropping of debris in the broken floor. Below her, the great, flooded sinkhole churned, a mass of debris and pure serum, a tide that threatened to drag her away. The rush of liquid was winding through several mana-cages that had fallen; the denizens inside, seeking rape above all else, were reaching out their arms toward in her direction. Kaleen’s staff had washed away, her magical strength was depleted. It had taken every last bit of mana she had to avoid being cut in half.

Vex rose, walking to the edge of the churning, rushing stream. The sound of flowing serum was so loud that it almost drowned out all else. From below her, body being jostled by purple rapids, Kaleen looked up at her. Her expression was one of complete and utter hatred; all consuming.

Vex was joined on one side by Severine, and then by Fizzy, and then a glass-covered Bunda, and then Durandal. At last, Jack was able to crawl to his feet and limp in their direction. The ground was still crumbling beneath, the river of serum was widening, eroding the floor. Kaleen was holding on only with one hand, clutching desperately at an outcropping of pipe.

“You… will all die,” she seethed. “All of you!”

Vex looked at Jack and gave him the nod.

“This is for Tess,” Jack growled, and kicked her hand loose. Kaleen screamed as she fell, body undulating. She was sucked down, washed by the outflow of serum down to the mana cage that had snagged against the debris in the stream. The hands of her sex-addicted, twisted test subjects eagerly latched onto her, and the impact of her body shook the cage loose, sending them all flowing down, down, down, deep into the aquifer, deeper still into the unmapped, unseen reservoirs in the caves beneath Glimmertown.

With her echoing cry chasing them through the smoke, they made good their escape.

EPILOGUE 1

The new Vallen Vengeance office was located at the end of a shadowed alley in the middle of the slums - a prime location for a fixer and mercenary outfit. One didn’t want to be in too sunny a spot; and a narrow street with ramshackle tenements on either side was, Vex had decided, just the ticket. Inside, there was a reception area, several living quarters, a cybermancer’s setup with Fizzy’s homemade deck (this room also contained her alchemy works), a simple kitchen, and various storage spaces for ammo and supplies. An old-fashioned door in the very back of the building connected, after some twists and turns, to the crowded underground apartments where the high elves tended not to tread - the perfect egress should unreasonable heat come down.

Next to this exit was the largest of the living quarters, containing the only bed that was big enough for Jack to really stretch out in… and stretching out was all he had been doing for the week following the Brimbor Potionworks explosion. His injuries were many. He had played his part, and now was resting in the aftermath of the great battle, being tended to by Vex and the others, with bandages around his head and right arm, which also required a sling. The more superficial injuries had been handled with a few healing tonics… but nothing but the strongest magic could have mended his shredded shoulder and shattered wrist, or the enormous bandaged gash on his forehead where Severine had split his skull open.

That brat, he thought. She really kicked my ass.

He had been napping, waiting for Vex to come in with a meal, which she tended to do around midday - usually an extremely fried haunch of meat, which she sarcastically referred to as a ‘warrior’s meal’. It tasted good enough, and she tended to suck his huge prick and play with his balls while he ate, which he liked even more. He and Vex were still partners, the leaders of the business, as it were, and now they’d taken on four new partners, bringing the Vallen Vengeance crew to six.

It was Vex who had suggested the name, in honor of Tess, who had been their reason for their inception. Since he was bedridden, Vex had been handling getting everyone else acclimated. Sometimes he could hear the others greeting customers at the reception desk, with varying degrees of chipperness, ranging from Fizzy’s ‘Welcome to double-Vee, what’s the job?” to a much more prim “Welcome to Vallen Vengeance, please wait and someone will see you shortly,” in a familiar emotionless voice.

I was defeated by my own receptionist, Jack mused. His eyes were still closed, he had been dozing and didn’t quite know the hour, only that it was sometime before noon. A news broadcast on one of the overhead screens in the cybermancer’s niche was droning on about increased security in the wake of the ‘Brimbor attack’. Dark elf extremists were being blamed, but that was nothing new - the highborne tended to blame everything on their ancient enemies.

Suddenly he became aware of clambering on the furs that covered the foot of his bed. Someone had entered the room in almost complete silence. “Mmm… Vex…” he breathed. “Time for breakfast?

There was no response, but he felt a weight on the bed that was crawling in his direction and approaching him. His mouth curled up in a smile, he couldn’t help it. Vex was clearly feeling playful, and it wouldn’t be the first time she’d awakened him with morning head. He loved the feeling of her body against his; after being subjected to Fizzy’s version of the succubus serum, her body had settled into a shape that drove him wild - huge tit* and bubbly buttocks on a thin frame. She’d assured him that she liked it… not least of all because he liked it. Now, with those big, soft tit* fast approaching, his one regret was that he only had one healthy arm to grab with.

The weight on the bottom half of the bed moved between his thighs, tossing up the fur coverlet and burrowing beneath it. Soon, he felt flesh brushing against his muscled legs and then, enticingly, hot breath pouring over his balls. The unseen Vex began to smooch his sack with kisses that were, amusingly, almost chaste. She was taking her time, it seemed… which was totally fine with Jack. Neither one of them had any hangups, of course - Vex, after all, enjoyed watching him f*ck other women, including Fizzy, who was always happy to be included - but some of Jack’s favorite encounters were the ones that were just one on one, where they could truly express their intimacy for each other.

“You’re in a frisky mood,” he growled, smiling. He seethed out a breath as one of his fat, virile nuts was slurped deeply with a suction-filled kiss and then released, followed up by the flat of a curious and aggressive tongue tracing the furrow between his testicl*s. The sound of sperm being produced was audible. “Mmm… that’s it. That feels good…”

The oral worship continued, until suddenly, Jack felt something strange - the sensation of Vex somehow kissing his left nut… and his right. At the same time. A few seconds more and he was sure of it - he was getting both of his balls kissed and licked at once… by two mouths!

His eyes opened and his good arm went to the fur covers, pulling them back… to reveal not Vex, but a pair of small, cute, blushing dark elf teens. Durandal… and Severine!

“Surprise, dummy,” Vex said, good-naturedly. She was standing in the doorway, cutting a voluptuous silhouette. “These two have come to say ‘thank you’.”

Jack’s eyes widened. Severine was wearing… well, there was no other way to describe it. It was a sexy maid outfit. He had no idea where the girl could have gotten such a thing, but the fetishized cut of the costume was clinging to her ballerina body like a second skin, with the ruffled skirt short enough to display the curve of her pert buttocks. Her black hair was done up in drill curls, and she still wore a black silk blindfold - it seemed her finely honed senses were as accurate when it came to pleasuring balls as they were when it came to killing. Without all the equipment she’d been carrying - the holster for her machine pistol, the scabbard between her shoulder blades, her gauntlets and climbing claws - Jack was finally able to get a complete picture of the true shape of her body. It was limber and athletic and the ruffles on the costume accentuated her modest chest.

To her left, also kneeling between his thighs, was Durandal, whose presence was just as much of a surprise. Though none of them knew exactly how old he was - Durandal himself couldn’t remember - nobody could deny the boy’s effeminate cuteness. On the top of his head was the one thing he’d taken from his time as Kaleen’s captive protege - the white, military-style hat. Other than that he wore only a pair of designer underwear by the famous gnomish weaving house, Galvin Gleingold, who lettered their name on the waistband of every pair. As with Severine, his body was waifish, graceful and flawless, with a light-purple complexion marking him as being from a different sect of dark elves than Vex and Sev - the deeper Underdark. His eyes were pleading and purple; the pertness of his lips and the soft girlish curve of his jaw would have made even the most heterosexual of men pause and consider. His eyelashes, in particular, seemed as long as Vex’s. Not to mention the added lewdness of his big young co*ck, bulging in the front of his underwear.

The two young elves looked down at him with half-lidded bedroom eyes. Their mouths were moist with the sucking of his balls. Their bodies were almost mirror images of each other.

“Thank you for saving us,” Durandal said.

“You’re very brave,” Severine said, inflectionless as ever.

His co*ck was a swiftly rising, half-hard mammoth trunk, rearing up between the two kids. It was Jack’s first instinct to ask what the hell was going on, and tell them that they needn’t thank him in that way - but he thought better of it. Vex was there, and he trusted Vex. More than that… he didn’t want to insult the two. In the week of convalescence - hell, even while he was in Kaleen’s lab, he had come to care for them like a little sister and brother. Instead of doing anything rash with his half-orc blood rushing and his pulse pounding, he locked eyes with Vex.

She gave him the nod, which was all the assurance he needed. He would not insult the two by asking if this was something they wanted. Durandal and Severine, though young-looking, were probably as old as he was, and had been through much. They knew what it was to be coerced into something. They knew there was no expectation for him to pay for their rescue with their bodies. Durandal the sex slave, Severine the assassin. Their days of taking orders were done.

Vex crawled onto the bed to join the other two. She was looking amazing as well, having foregone wearing a top of any kind beneath her biker jacket. Her huge caramel tit* with their pierced, pale pink nipples were swaying as she moved. She stripped off the jacket as she approached, baring her chest right in his field of view, breasts flanked by the heads of the younger dark elves on either side. “Don’t be shy,” Vex purred, and tossed him a playful wink. “Durandal likes both women and men. And as for Sev… well, I’ll let her tell you.”

“I wish to thank you for rescuing me,” Severine explained. “I will give the gift of my first time… to your huge penis.”

Jack’s thunderstruck expression finally broke as he blew out a wheezing, surprised breath. Of course, it made sense. Severine had been raised as a living weapon, a life of celibacy and emotional disconnect would be required for such a thing. Another monstrous masterstroke from the famously inhibited high elves.

“W-well,” Jack grunted. “It might be… tough. I mean - you’re so small, and-”

“I will handle it,” Severine assured him.

“Uh… I don’t know - like… just looking at it, it’s… as long as your entire body-”

“I hope you have learned not to underestimate me,” Severine said.

Jack glanced at his bandaged arm. Vex burst out laughing. “She’s got you there,” she said, and then crawled up next to him, snuggling against his side. “Come on, big guy. You’ve earned it… I want to see you get the rewards you deserve.” She kissed his cheek. “Didn’t you say orcs reward victorious warriors by letting the females pleasure them?”

“Vex, stop joking around.” But he was smiling a little. He couldn’t help it. She snuggled closer, letting her breasts press against his ribs and his good arm fall around her shoulders. “Besides… I want to see you get your prick sucked by a beautiful dark elf boy and girl!” Her voice turned into a sultry purr as her words grew more obscene, and she pulled Jack into a deep kiss and started sucking his tongue.

Any hesitation was gone; they became one fluid and genderless ball of sexual energy in that moment, and that Jack had never precisely interacted with another male in that way was unimportant in the grander scheme of their intimacy and Durandal’s deep need to please and be close to his rescuer. The boy had been bereft of people who truly cared for him; Vex and Jack were his new family, and for dark elves, family and pleasure were always intertwined. He and Severine grabbed Jack’s jutting, throbbing gray co*ck in tandem, their agile and small hands rubbing and stroking it, poising it roughly between them as their two pairs of lips kissed and moved silkily against the bulging head.

Severine straddled his chest, facing away from him, and used her tiny hands to pull on his co*cktip, spreading his pisshole open and revealing a fat pearl of pre-cum glistening there. Durandal, in turn, extended his tongue and drilled the tip into that slit, gathering the sperm and pulling it back into his pouty, slick boy mouth after a few seconds. His long, bright silver hair framed his face as he did so… not to mention the disarming effect of his cute hat. After swallowing that dollop of sperm, the boy started to suckle softly on the tip of Jack’s co*ck, drawing more sperm out, shutting his eyes, obviously enjoying it.

Vex reached out and flipped up the fluffy skirt on Sev’s maid outfit, showing off her perfectly formed, bubbly, athletic buttocks. Amazingly, she was wearing a pair of panties that were both a size too small… and emblazoned with a large teddy bear decal, a cartoon mascot for elf children. Vex even dared to reach out and give the smaller dark elf’s butt a smack - her buttocks jiggled for only a slight moment and then returned to their position.

“Like I said,” she explained. “I let them pick their own clothes.” She gripped one of Sev’s partially-covered buttocks. “Her ass is so firm,” Vex breathed into his ear… and then her voice grew naughtier. “I can’t wait to watch you tear her tight little body apart, you f*cking stud.”

“You’re all just teasing me,” Jack growled. And of course they were, but there was no ill humor in it. In that moment, there was an intimacy between them all that was like a warm shawl pulled up against the darkness and death that had been their existence for the prior month. Kaleen had wielded sex like a scythe, not caring who was cut down as she pursued her plans.

This was different. They were a family. Or something like it.

Jack reached out and took a grip on Severine’s hip with his good hand, trying it on for size. His large fingers seemed to envelop her whole narrow side. “You’re brave,” he told her, smirking. “Too bad.”

“What is?” Severine asked him.

“That here… your bravery will only hurt you.” A callback. His mouth curled into a dad-joke smile; and she smiled back. His hand closed more tightly on her hip, cupping her firm ass and urging her to stand up. As she did, he took hold of her panties and pulled them down. Even with Jack laying down and Severine standing, his towering prick nearly reached her puss*. Her quivering young slit, totally hairless, was only an inch away from it.

“Your heart rate is elevated,” Severine said, cold as ever.

“You got that right, pipsqueak.” Durandal planted a last soft kiss on Jack’s co*ck as the bulbous head slid from his mouth, slick and glistening with wetness, ready for penetration.

Severine reached down to grip her own pert, bubbly buttocks. Whatever training she’d done, it had sculpted them into a flawless state, though she lacked Vex’s sheer size. Pulling them gently apart, she revealed a dazzling, pale pink anus and puss* that were absolutely soaking with syrupy wetness that began to drizzle down the insides of her limber legs… with one glistening strand of liquid puddling directly on top of his co*ck. It seemed as hot as magma. Jack snorted out a horny, barely-contained growl of lust. “You will not encounter a hymen,” Sev told him. “It tore long ago due to my agility training. But I assure you, this is my first time.”

“Just hope,” Jack growled, “that it’s not your last!”

One hand was all he needed, securely gripping one hip and half her waist, pulling her opening flush against his co*cktip. By all the cyber-gods and techno-daemons, the size difference seemed insurmountably obscene. His huge co*cktip seemed as girthy as one of her slender thighs! He felt an immense pressure as her c*nt tried to deny him entry, and then, for the first time ever, he heard her make a noise that resembled distress. Even when she’d been kicking the sh*t out of him in the crystal elevator, she had barely made a sound.

“Aaanngh!” she peeped. Her head jerked back a little and her black hair swished. And then, a wet, sloppy, satisfying noise as several inches of his co*ck slid into her c*nt! For Jack, everything seemed to move in slow motion for a moment. Around the top of his thick, half-orc penis, he felt a tightness and pressure that was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. Even his first time with Vex - they had been each other's ‘first time’ - couldn’t compare to this tightness. Severine was so agile and thin, yet she was somehow taking his girthy co*ck in her dark-skinned, hairless c*nt sleeve! He could see droplets of sweat and lube glistening on her skin, the throbbing of his own veins, the limber, deep arches of her graceful feet as she perched on the mattress in a half-squat, balancing on her toes.

“Oh f*ck,” Vex moaned into his ear, throwing her thigh over his as her fingers rubbed his powerful chest, playing with the hair there and letting it slide through her digits. “Give that little brat your monster dick!”

“I’ll… split her in half!” he growled. It was both desire and warning, and Severine was still wiggling her butt, petulantly waving it as one might wave a red flag in front of a minotaur. The waifish assassin girl was actually taunting him with her perfectly sculpted ass!

“Y-you… won’t hurt me!” Sev cried out, and for the first time, there was emotion - or at least a physical struggle - in her cold voice. Jack felt two warm hands on his big balls - Vex from his left side, Durandal from his right, snuggled to the side where his arm was still in a sling. The two others were kneading and groping his nuts worshipfully.

“Go ahead, let that orc battle rage out,” Vex teased. “I know you want some revenge.” Jack growled and pulled on Severine, who obediently dropped her hips in time with his thrusting hips, accepting several more inches of co*ck inside. Now, she was taking seven or eight inches, all of it obscenely thick - easily greater in circumference than her wiry arms. Jack felt squelching, squeezing, pulsating warmth. At the same time, his balls twitched - he was producing such a huge amount of thick, conquering sem*n that they had started to ache. No doubt both Vex and Durandal could feel the plumes of sperm coalescing into thick jelly inside his nuts, as they both reacted.

Jack’s eyes were shut with exertion and pleasure, he opened them when he felt wet tongues circling his nipples - Vex and Durandal were giving him full-body service while the agile assassin fairy continued to sit her puss* down directly onto his meat, forcing more and more inside. She was so tight that each fraction of an inch was a victory. She pulled the straps of her maid outfit from her shapely shoulders and doffed it over her head, pulling it upward to do so - the sight of her back muscles, balletic and flawless, reminded him that she was no mere girl but a trained killer. Her long black pigtails now fell in a darker penumbra over her cinnamon skin. She arched. He could see the tiniest hint of her breasts bouncing as she tilted to one side… but that was all. Yet her small breasts only added to his excitement in the moment.

Jack’s hand grabbed a fistful of ass, then spanked, then took hold of her hip again. Severine moaned, and he did not let go as she forced more and more of his co*ck inside her. It was getting harder now; he had perhaps half of his length stabbing into her guts.

“Now your heart rate is increasing!” he taunted. “You little… pint-sized… dick sleeve!” The words were out of his mouth before he could hold them back. But this aggressive talk only served to turn everyone on, and they redoubled their efforts in worshiping his body.

“Harder!” Severine encouraged him. “Thrust more powerfully! You are holding back!” She bent over and looked back at him, with his co*ck, inserted halfway inside her, connecting them. This time, though, he hesitated. Severine may have been an authority on killing people, but when it came to her sexual limits, she was a rookie. Yet it was his instinct to f*ck her as she desired.

“If her family had lived,” Durandal whispered to him, still licking and rubbing between bursts of speech, “it would have been her father’s job to give her her ‘first time’. To be the example for her future husband. Please. She is strong, and willing. You won’t hurt her.” The boy’s gaze was intense, in that moment his eyes were big purple pools, his hair was spun silver, and he looked absolutely gorgeous. “Be a father to her.”

“Mmm… be her big-dick half-orc daddy,” Vex seethed, pushing in so close that her whispers could only be heard by the two of them. “Turn her into a size queen, Jack. Wouldn’t that be hot? Messing up this girl so badly that she’s craving your fat co*ck for the rest of her life-”

Severine spoke up. “I can hear you whispering, you know!” she said. Vex gasped and covered her mouth, hiding a smile. Of course, they should have known that the keen-eared girl could detect every detail of their dirty talk. “You are stalling again. If you will not proceed… then I will have to take action!”

His co*ck was already at a forty-five degree angle, inside her, as she pushed back against him from a nearly all-fours position. But now, she truly braced herself, squatted, and slammed her agile, muscled hips downward. There was a sexual, penetrating sound of internal genitalia being rearranged, perhaps permanently… and then a steady, slick, liquid noise as Jack’s co*ck started to disappear into her stretched-out puss*, inch after inch, not slowing down this time. It was like watching a magic trick; making an object vanish. Her smooth, taut pelvis, lined with the gutters and ridges of abdominal muscle, bulged out with a co*ck shape. Jack grunted and growled loudly… and for the first time, Severine matched him. Spittle flew from the corner of her mouth during the last few seconds of penetration… and then, amazingly, there was a wet plap as her bubbly buttocks smacked down against his sweat-soaked pelvis.

She’d taken every inch. Jack found himself unable to speak. There were levels of tightness beyond which the very discussion of tightness became redundant; there could be no comparison for this level of snug, firm fit. He was reminded of old war stories about faeries and nymphs. He imagined this was what f*cking a faerie must be like. She was tiny, and warm, and the very pulse of her flesh felt like it was milking his co*ck!

She leaned back, limp for a moment, impaled on him. In that split second, Jack thought she had fainted from the exertion, from pushing her tiny, dancer’s body to take so much swarthy, masculine, vein-choked co*ck. But after a moment, she started to move. Jack was treated to the amazing sight of the clinging membrane of her puss*, gripping his co*ck like a sleeve, as she lifted herself back off of it, undoing the magic trick, letting that throbbing pipe reappear as she straightened her legs.

So pink on the inside, he thought. That pale, soft pink! Just like Vex!

Up, down. Up, down. She moved with the same grace she had in combat, and was no less breathtaking to watch, her petite body absorbing that monstrous, gray-skinned orc co*ck on each downstroke, again, and again, and again, squirting all over it, making it slick with her wetness. There was a dutifulness to it; Severine had learned how to use her body in service to others, and now did so of her own free will. Meanwhile, Jack was having his muscled body snuggled from two sides; a soft and willing boy on his right, a voluptuous and horny merc on his left. They were licking, kissing, drawing their tongues over his flesh, purring to him about how he was in her guts, they could see his pipe bulging in her belly, it was tenting out her slender navel with each thrust, as if some great and unseen worm were burrowing inside.

“That feels-” he growled.

“R-really… goood!” Severine finished, and the urgency in her voice was something new. She withdrew all the way, letting his knob emerge from her puss* with a ‘pop!’, and then turned to face him. Sad as he was to see her perfect, bubbly rear disappear from view, her athletic gymnast front - shoulders, abdominals, impossibly gravity-defying, modest breasts - was just as amazing a sight. She sank down on him again, and this time, they could all see the softly-curved, scimitar shape of his penis, digging beneath the flesh of her belly. He was all the way in her tiny womb, reshaping it, marking his territory with that fat, long penis.

“Holy f*ck!” Vex moaned, biting her lip. “It’s so hot, watching you break her in!” She reached out to touch the bulge, rubbing a hand against it as Severine sank down to sit on his pelvis, taking his entire length again. Her eyelids fluttered with the effort it took to absorb his size. Durandal also reached out to touch it - indeed, the two tertiary participants were giving a handjob of sorts, through the flesh of Severine’s distended belly! The dark elf boy was also biting his lip with obvious arousal.

“Even though we’re both guys,” he said, blushing a bruised red on his purple cheeks, “I’ll suck your co*ck, if you want. Mine is big, but… yours is thicker and longer.” He brushed silver strands of hair away from his brow. “Is that okay… big brother?”

Severine moaned as Jack’s co*ck throbbed and seemed to grow larger inside of her. Of course Jack had heard the stories - that among dark elf brothers, the younger and cuter would assume a role of service to the older and more masculine. Now, it seemed the rescued boy was willing to perform that role in the first real family he’d had. The decision was further complicated by the fact that, with his large eyes, long eyelashes, plump lips, and streamlined, feminine jaw, Durandal had perhaps a more blastable cum target of a face than either of the girls.

Vex and Durandal pressed their faces against his bulging co*ck outline, nuzzling Severine’s hot flesh, and planted wet kisses on the tube shaped cylinder of meat that as it bulged out behind her navel. Jack again grunted and shuddered with pleasure. He was getting the full service, no doubt about it - from his smoking hot partner and two hyper-f*ckable young dark elves! Even someone of his prodigious willpower couldn’t hold back, and as Severine fell forward onto, wrapping his arms around his stout neck and letting him smell her shining black hair - he sensed a tint of red in his vision for the first time.

“If you brats… keep teasing me-”

“Oh, be nice, Jack,” Vex giggled.

“You’re worse than the two of them put together!” he growled, and clamped a hand around Severine’s waist, hugging her close. She was a tiny, tight ball of warmth and energy, still massaging his co*ck with her insides. He began to thrust his hips - he couldn’t help it. His co*ck whipped forward and back, pounding and withdrawing. Lube and pre-cum sprayed in a haze with the impact of his fat ballsack against her taut, perfect young ass. She was naked except for her eyeshield, that stylized blindfold that was the mark of her assassin kind. He felt breath in his ear again, this time, measured and faint.

Anyone else feeling her breath on their ear, he thought, it would be the last sensation they ever experience.

“I’ll kill for you from now on, daddy,” she whispered. “And only you.” The intimacy of the moment was enough to send his heart racing and his vision another shade downward to crimson. The pledge that had just been made-

He knew what she wanted in return. To be brought into the world of womanhood… as harshly as she had been trained in the world of death. He clamped his powerful arm down on Severine, not letting her move, totally taking control of the rhythm and speed of their thrusting. When he spoke next, his eyes were bloodshot and his voice was the bellow of a warchief. “We shall destroy our enemies!”

Acting purely on instinct, he began to lift and drop Severine on his towering, pulsing co*ck, using her like he would a sex doll. At first her grace and balance kept her limbs from flailing, but as his spongy co*cktip battered over and over against her womb, she showed signs of fraying control for the first time. He groped her bubbly, firm ass like it was meat. He licked and sucked her breasts in animalistic fashion, making her squeal and moan uncharacteristically. In their fight, she had been the winner; in this bedroom rematch, he was overpowering her, making her cling to him for dear life!

And all the while, Vex in his ear, telling him to f*ck her, make her a woman, wreck that assassin lolita puss* and show the little death pixie a thing or two about true half-orc f*cking power. Vex was fingering herself as she watched, Durandal was masturbating his smooth, long penis as he lay on one hip and nibbled his lip.

In spite of his injury he turned; he no longer felt the pain in his bones and his torn muscles. He pressed Severine’s thin, small body down into the fur-covered bedspread and mounted her, pinning her legs back until her knees were pressed against her shoulders and she was bent nearly in half. Her flexibility made it easy. Now in a lewd, obscene mating press, his powerful frame, easily three times her weight, crushed downward. His magnificent, alpha-stud penis didn’t just f*ck, it excavated. Severine made a warbling noise as he humped into her with all of his strength. Even in the midst of his sexual berserker rage, he recognized the sensation of unnatural strength in her - it was as if her sinews were made of steel cable, her bones of mithril. She was somehow withstanding him, even encouraging him in!

“Fill her c*nt, Jack. Give her that daddy dick!” Vex was obviously on the verge of org*sm herself; and hearing her encouragement, as a beast rider of the wilds might speak to her bonded companion, drove him to the edge. He hilted himself, covering Severine’s body completely with his massive frame, shoving his cook as deep as he could and emptying his balls, such that they twitched against the spread-open lips of her c*nt as he shot his wad. Vex and Durandal, now masturbating together, org*smed with him, with the boy covering Vex in pearl-colored, shining ropes that were obscenely virile for a boy his apparent age; she eagerly milked his shots all over her c*nt and tit* even as she fingered with her opposite hand.

Severine gave a cry and Jack felt her body vibrate and quiver around his impaling meat. The tone of her wail was the first truly unrestrained utterance he’d ever heard from the normally-cool young assassin. A secret noise, for the hearing now of the only one who could make her cum. She dug her fingernails into his flesh (thankfully, absent her taloned gauntlets) and moaned out that she would server him from then on - her rescuer, her father figure, the owner of her massive daddy dick that had ripped the first cum-quake from her inexperienced body. The strength of her body was such that her quivering, tensing org*sm felt to Jack like throwing his body on a live grenade. Only his own berserker strength prevented him from being tossed away.

He exploded into her. His chunky, ultra-virile issue filled her tiny slit almost instantly; her belly bulged out as if pregnant, until it could absorb no more. Having filled her womb, with nowhere else to go, it splashed back out onto the sheets in thick expulsions, spurting out from the tight seal made by his massive co*ck. After thirty seconds of cumming, he withdrew, gasping, unsheathing his prick, and his cum poured out of her slick puss* in a fountain, staining the furs.

Severine was quivering on her back, her belly bulging with Jack’s thick, heavy sem*n load. She ran her hands over her distended flesh, feeling the sheer volume of his sperm. Durandal and vex ran their hands over it too, looking up at Jack with respect in their eyes for his enhanced sexuality.

“f*ck, what a huge load, Jack. It makes my puss* wet to see you fill that little girl to the brim,” Vex teased, intentionally making the consensual act sound as lewd as possible. Jack turned to warn her about teasing once again, and then winced as a lance of pain shot down his injured arm. He had busted out of his sling, and totally ignored the pain… but his vision was clear again and his battle injuries were hurting.

Vex and Durandal gently guided him back into his place at the head of the bed, resting against the headboard, cushioned by pillows and furs. “Take it easy, Jack,” Vex told him. “You can just watch until you’re ready to go again.” She kissed him on his still-bruised cheek with genuine feeling, and in that moment, his co*ck sated, his injured body soothed by soft pillows and softer breasts, Jack had a feeling that everything was going to be alright. He and Vex were partners - partners in life, now, with the opening of Vallen Vengeance, partners in business.

Now naked except for his reapplied sling, Jack watched with his long, thick co*ck draped over one thigh as Vex played around with Durandal, sucking his long dick from the back, rimming his ass, seemingly taking every opportunity to show off their two beautiful bodies from angles he could admire. Eventually, a recovered Severine slid under the boy and started to suck his prick while Vex had her tongue up his ass. They were sucking and masturbating and pleasing each other together, all for his benefit as well as their own. After so many days of sinister sexual dealings, unwilling experiments and atrocities with Kaleen… the sense of mutual trust among those on the bed was like a ray of firelight, cutting through the shadows.

Jack felt no jealousy, even as he watched Vex throat Durandal’s long young prick and suck his big, hairless balls. His co*ck eventually hardened again as he watched the three pleasure each other, and his first order of business was to pull Durandal onto his lap. “Thank you for saving me, big brother,” the boy told him.

Jack took Durandal doggy-style while Vex sucked on Durandal’s co*ck, drinking the pearl-colored, glistening issue that spurted from his pisshole every time Jack’s big prick sank deep into his round, soft, bouncy boy-butt. Unlike Severine, Durandal had no reservations about making cute noises while being f*cked, and Jack made his share of noises as well, enjoying the tightness and aesthetic perfection of the femmy, bouncing ass that was swallowing his prick.

“Isn’t this amazing, Jack?” Vex breathed, popping her mouth off of the boy’s co*cktip. “All those years we joked about having a hot dark elf receptionist for our business… look how it turned out!” She went back to sucking, hollowing her cheeks out. Jack imagined Durandal sitting at the front desk, in his cute military style hat, long silver hair shining in the neon light, dealing with customers, making appointments… and also joining he and Vex in bed every night, and maybe draining a certain half-orc’s balls every morning.

This thought was accompanied by a certain poking feeling as a tongue flicked against his anus and two insistant hands pried his muscled cheeks open. Seconds later, Severine’s agile tongue was swabbing his sweaty asshole!

“Pnnnnagh! Hey!” Jack objected, blowing air out through his nostrils. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“If I lick your anus, your testicl*s will produce more sem*n,” Severine explained. She was on her knees, her cum-filled belly hanging, craning her head up to bury her face in his musky crack. Soon, he felt her tongue scraping against his insides and wheezed out another surprised breath.

“Ah! Big brother’s co*ck… is twitching a lot inside me!” Durandal moaned out, and wiggled his bottom invitingly, as if to encourage more thrusting. Vex burst out laughing and winked at Jack, sliding out from under Durandal like a hovercar mechanic on break.

“Don’t even act like you don’t like it,” she teased, licking sperm from her lips. “You’ve got a dark elf girl sucking your ass while you’re balls deep inside of the bubble butt of the world’s cutest office administrator.” She licked her lips. “And it’s going to be like this every day from now on.”

“How long… have you been planning this?” Jack grunted.

“A couple of days… though it was these two who suggested it.” Vex paused, then reached out to put a reassuring hand on his hip. “We wanted to make sure you were healed enough, first.” She leaned down and pressed her cheek against one of Durandal’s round, smooth buttocks, then spoke her next words silently, only moving her mouth:

It’s so hot when you’re dominant, she mouthed. Rip apart his ass.

And so it was, thanks to Vex’s skilled goading and teasing, that following about forty-five seconds of desperate thrusting and clapping cheeks against muscled orc pelvis, receptionist Durandal had his job position ‘confirmed’ by about a gallon of hot half-orc sem*n pumped up his pert, boyish bottom. As with Severine before, the extra flow from Jack’s virile balls spurted back out and down to the mattress, and the boy shot his own creamy, glistening load straight into Vex’s mouth, the older dark elf female having slid back under him to suck down every drop.

When it was over, both Severine and Durandal were sporting identical cum bellies and laying on their hips with sprightly expressions of satisfaction, their navels pushed together like two pregnant women, forming a sort of sexual art - purple-skinned and silver-haired on Durandal’s side, brown-skinned and dark-haired on Sev’s side. Sev also, lewdly, had several coarse pubic hairs on her mouth.

Vex grabbed Jack’s arm and admired his handiwork as they knelt near the two others. “You’re such a stud,” she encouraged him… then gasped with pleasure as Jack reached out and took hold of her purple hair, yanking her head back.

“You’ve been teasing me this whole time,” Jack said, with a bit of humor in his voice. “Don’t think you’re getting away from this without getting f*cked.”

Vex giggled. “I was counting on it.” She glanced at one of the digital clocks on the table by the bed. The day was young - it wasn’t even noon. Plenty of time for more f*cking. And at the exact moment when Jack’s uninjured hand cupped Vex’s ass-cheek, warming up for round three of the orgy, the door to the back room burst open.

“Goddamn it, this f*ckin’ thing is heavy as sh*t!”

It was Bunda, carrying a big keg of ale… with Fizzy in tow, following right behind. She set the tapped metal barrel - emblazoned with the bearded logo of Ironbrew Aleguild - onto the ground with a clang… and then looked at the bed with surprise.

“Damn it! They’ve started without us!”

“No faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaair!” Fizzy added. She was, absurdly, wearing nothing but an enormous, pointy witch-hat, and thigh-high boots. Everything else, from her bulbous goblin breasts to her large and jutting green-skinned shelf of ass, was completely uncovered. Bunda was likewise dressed for the bedroom, though both her enormous, tit-restraining brassiere and her ass-swallowed thong still had metal elements. Plus, of course, her horned helmet.

“Don’t tell me that boy’s co*ck is drained already!” Bunda blurted, gesturing toward Durandal. “My cheeks need a good clappin’ from someone with youthful energy!”

“And I want a big dick to f*ck my braaaaaains!” Fizzy added, pointing to her ears, and referring to the famous goblin-only sex act which would be fatal for any other species but was possible thanks to the large ears and unique physiology

“First thing’s first,” Jack said. He couldn’t help but smile at the vulgar, eccentric pair. “I could really use a beer.”

Tomorrow, they would open for business. But for now, the staff of Vallen Vengeance sat on the edge of the bed, clinking frosty glasses and downing delicious, refreshing mouthfuls of Ironbrew Runic beer, which was chilled by embedded frost runes every time a new glass was poured. Even the young dark elves were permitted a sip, though it was too bitter for their palettes.

Jak’Thur, Vex, Bunda, Fizzy, and Durandal clinked the glasses, exclaiming ‘for Tess!’. And though no one articulated it, their bond became sealed in that moment, amidst the buzz and the bedsheets. Much more f*cking would be done that day, and Fizzy’s ears would be penetrated by not one co*ck but two, and Bunda would loudly exclaim that her arse had been f*cked so good she’d been sh*tting cum for a week. By sundown, they were one big, exhausted, drunken tangle of limbs.

None articulated it, but to watch them all, it was clear - though sex and evil could intertwine, it was not naturally so.

Love was the answer.

Only the evil of sentient beings could twist the act into something dark.

EPILOGUE 2

“Uwaauuuuauauuuuggh!” Kaleen’s eyes rolled back in her head and she blew rivers of snot out of her hooked-open nostrils, her extended tongue lewdly twisting in the air. She was trapped neck and wrists in wooden stock, such that her puss*, ass, breasts, and mouth were all exposed to the depredations of her captors, and a two-foot long, wart-covered hobgoblin co*ck had just been shoved into her sloppy puss*, causing a queef of buttery lube to bubble out.

Kaleen had been immersed in pure serum for several minutes before washing through an outflow pipe beyond the city walls, in a place where traders and rogues scavenged. The concentrated form of the serum had been meant to mix with the water of the slums; instead, she had absorbed thousands of doses of the undiluted mixture, saturating her in it.

It was perhaps fitting that her fate would be to succumb to the madness of the weapon she had designed; found gibbering and begging for co*ck even as she was f*cked by her test subjects, and collected by slavers to perform as a sem*n-caked freak show for the rest of her unnaturally long life, traveling the dirty, debauched outland camps that were scattered between Glimmertown and the human kingdoms, along the outlying wasteland.

The subordinates and high elf allies she had once commanded would have hardly recognized her; after a year and a half of being violated by sex-crazed scum and dragged across the wastes, she looked like nothing more than a degraded, brainless rape sow. Her tit hung like the udders of some particularly corpulent livestock; each one the size of a boulder with brown, discolored nipples, the areolas bumpy with pores.

She had a spare tire of belly fat like the birthing-factory f*ck-MILF she was. Her unshaven armpits wer hairy and stank from all the cum she’d had blasted there by horny, rutting males that f*cked her underarms. There was a ring of hair around her unkempt asshole as well, to go with her hairy puss* and stretched out c*nt flaps, which were pierced by eight heavy rings and hung like the wings of a soggy butterfly. Her swollen asshole was brown-colored from night after night of rough buttf*cking, and her pisshole, which had been raped by every goblin and gnome with a dick small enough to reasonably fit, was incontinent and constantly leaked piss on the co*cks of the males who ravaged her blown-out c*nt box.

Her fat ass bounced and undulated in waves as her holes were pounded, which was almost all the time - she was the center of attention in every camp, hovel or slave market she was dragged to. And the crowning feature of her body was her constantly pregnant belly, which was round, matronly, and a constant source of stimulation as her serum-transformed womb was inseminated over and over. Her uterine-lining and reproductive organs had been transformed such that her offspring were succubus-blooded, born fully formed and sexually precocious.

Tears ran from her rolling eyes as the wart-covered hobgoblin meat pounded in and out of her buttery, baby-filled c*nt box. Her once-flawless skin was covered in bruises and bite marks from the abuse of the serum-soaked cadres who traveled with her; not to mention the attentions of her horny children, of which there were many, all branded with a tattoo that designated their birthing order. Her first, marked with the number 1, now had the form of a fully grown adult, despite being only eighteen months old. She was nearby, somewhere, gleefully sucking dick, an uncanny image of her mother’s former beauty but with a hint of demonic-twist, in that her skin had a grayish tone and there were tiny faun-like bumps on her forehead.

All of Kaleen’s children were of this sexualized and disgraceful kind. At no stage in their development did they possess the cherubic, chubby innocence of a newborn; rather, they slid from her raped, org*sming puss* as lean, impish and sex-hungry brats. Many had been sold; others were kept around to serve as dick sleeves, and those she was allowed to form a bond with only were permitted that filial closeness to later use it against their mother, forcing her to watch as her dick-sleeve daughters pleasured the co*cks of the most corpulent slavers and twisted, mutated sex fiends.

Sometimes, her children would hang from the thick metal rings that pierced her nipples, stretching them brutally such that the inflated, distended f*ck udders hung all the way to the ground. Her ‘sons’ - all of whom slid out of her c*nt with lean, agile bodies and disproportionately huge penises for their impish size, would sometimes turn around and f*ck her puss*, seconds after being ‘born’.

All in all, she’d birthed fifty-three… nearly one every ten days. She was a big-titted, fat-assed, birthing sow. Her ‘owners’ had no idea of her former high elf name, they simply called her bitch, c*nt, fat-ass, stupid, or worse variations from their native tongues. Now, the former Kaleen, now ‘Razz’bz’tizz’ for the moment, or ‘Toilet c*nt Bitch’ in goblinoid gibberings, was about to make it fifty-four. The disgusting green co*ck pummeling her womb was long enough to reach the depths of her overloaded baby sack, sliding up against the contents inside.

“If you… keep doing that… my baby… is going to come ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuut!” Kaleen wailed, snot and saliva pouring from her face. She looked absolutely crazed, the last shred of sanity long-ago departed.

A robed human slaver strode up to her, fat with the excess of his riches, and pulled up his robes, bending over in her face. Swarthy, sweaty, and reeking of a long wasteland ride, he pressed his hairy ass against her mouth, making her kiss his sweat-soaked anus. “Shut up, you fat piece of sh*t,” he growled. “You are only good for giving birth to fresh co*ck sleeves! Now, clean my ass… I have not washed it since we arrived from across the dunes. My sweat will provide fine nutrients for the worthless co*ck-warmers you are about to queef out of your raped, worthless dick-sewer.” He turned briefly, slapped her face, and spat in it. Previously anyone daring to do that would have been tortured and killed at Kaleen’s command. Now, it was a daily - no, hourly - occurrence.

Desperate for any sexual activity, no matter how degrading - addicted to it literally on a cellular level - Kaleen started to slurp and suck and moan into the obese trader’s greasy sh*thole.

“Ah, that’s it! Give your arrogant knife-ear face a taste of human ass!” He gritted his teeth as Kaleen’s long tongue scraped the insides of his bowels. “Who were you before? Someone of what passes for importance among your kind, I bet!” He reached behind himself and forced her to suck his anus for several more seconds, then turned and gave her a breath.

She gasped. “I… was…”

But she could hardly remember, and it didn’t matter anyway. The punishment for her wickedness and genocidal, elven ethno-arrogance was karma itself; the former Warden would no longer be in a position to look down on anyone, or harm anyone, again. This was expressed most simply when the fat slaver produced his hairy dick, choked with foreskin and flopping like a sun-burnished snake at over a foot long, and forced the filthy, unwashed length down her throat. Kaleen could only gurgle as he thrust his hips and used her windpipe to scrape the scum off of his co*ck, pausing only to ‘donkey punch’ the top of her head with his knuckles every few seconds.

Her buttocks clapped in time to her throat’s violation, as the hobgoblin snarled and sneered in barely understandable common tongue about the feeling of her blown-out rape sack. Below his shaft, a pair of uneven green balls hung nearly to his knees, one testicl* larger than the other and both quivering with the production of disgusting, yellowed greenskin sperm. “Take it!” he cackled. “I’ll help that brat out of your puss*!” He jammed himself in, nearly eighteen inches of brutal meat, and started to grunt with his filthy, copious ejacul*tions.

Kaleen org*smed like a pig while getting face-f*cked and having her skull thumped; and the hobgoblin growled with surprise as he felt a second form of stimulation from inside - the suckling of his spurting penis by Kaleen’s unborn offspring!

“You fat, stupid dick sleeeve factory!” the ruddy beast snarled. “You’re such a whor* that even your baby is sucking my dick!”

Kaleen groaned out a howl of utter humiliation as the human slaver grunted and started to pump greasy, tainted nut straight down into her bloated stomach. Her spasming, org*smic puss* began to clench, forcing out not just the hobgoblin’s co*ck… but a fully-formed, succubus-blooded imp who was eagerly slurping on the greenskin’s fat co*ck knob.

There were dozen of onlookers around the slave camp, and a cheer went up from them all as they saw Kaleen scream around the fat co*ck plugging her mouth and her puss* dilated obscenely to give birth. It was not the first time this had happened, and wouldn’t be the last; Kaleen was so saturated with serum that her newborns had all the demonic instincts of temptresses; the just born, half-emerged child distending her slit was stroking and slurping that hobgoblin dick like a veteran prostitute, and was bright-eyed and eager as she did so. It was an obscenity, as far from the loving act of true birth as was possible.

Eventually, child #54 slid from her hole and landed cannily, already half the height of a human or elf, eyes darting around at all the penises present. She’d been born with a full head of hair, lacking everything but breasts; which would come as soon as the first nine months. And of course there were others of her kind in the surrounding camp of corrugated metal, mana-lanterns and tents; dozens of Kaleen-born prostitutes who would be used and sold.

Kaleen was the mother of harlots; the poisoned dignity which had driven her attempt to subjugate ‘lesser’ races had been turned back on her. Instead of ruling over dark elves, gobs, hobs, human raiders, and other undesirables, she was taking their huge co*cks, drinking their cum and piss, cleaning their bodies with her tongue. And her newborn ‘child’ - if such an abomination could be called one - showed her even less respect, letting the hobgoblin retreat and turning around to punch her entire arm up Kaleen’s loose, well-f*cked butthole with a wet, sloppy goosh.

The slaver withdrew from her throat and Kaleen coughed up a spray of stinky, piss-tainted sperm. Her eyelids fluttered as her ass was fist-f*cked by the succubus-blooded newcomer; it was the most humiliating thing in the world. The slaver moved his softening prick back to her face and pressed his pisshole against her hooked-open nostrils. “You have way too much hair in your nostrils, you disgusting f*ckpig!” he criticized, and proceeded to groan and unload a virile, spraying piss stream directly up her nose. After a few seconds of Kaleen gagging, he used his spewing prick tip like a prybar, opening her eyelids and hosing down her eyeballs with his acrid waste.

She had been robbed of the ability to dislike any stimulus from a sexual partner, her every inclination and bodily element had been twisted by the formula that she herself had perfected. When men punched and beat her, it made her wet, when she drank their piss, it stimulated her throat. When her huge tit* were sucked or slapped, the pleasure was immeasurable. Every part of her had been made into an erogenous zone, even the brutal fisting of her asshole by a child-like arm was making her cum. She gurgled like a dying pig, blasting her own spray of incontinent piss from her goblin f*cked urethral opening.

The slaver spit in her face one last time. “You’re a piece of sh*t,” he said, and the many Glimmertown residents who had suffered under her boot would doubtless have agreed, and found some poetry in Kaleen’s fate. For this ongoing humiliation and f*ckery was but one sliver of an epoch for her; high elves were a very long-lived race, and she would be compelled by her curse to seek out the most grotesque perversions and massive co*cks, for years, decades, and even centuries on end.

Jak’Thur, who had played such a large part in her downfall, would be long dead by the time the last massive co*ck had fired on her catatonic, f*ck-addled face. And so it continued; for Kaleen, it would never precisely stop. Two massively hung, serum-enhanced males approached from either side, shoving their mutated penises into her holes, penises riddled with textured bumps and veins that produced an ungodly amount of sem*n from incubus-infused ballsacks, and started to f*ck her from both ends.

The meaty sounds of her sloppy c*nt being rearranged by those enhanced co*cks did nothing to hide her eagerness and the pleasure she was experiencing; Kaleen would never again be able to claim an ounce of dignity in the eyes of the kingdoms; even in the human lands and the fey forests, the northern steam communes and the southern isles, holographic representations of her co*ck-piggery were being distributed among the cyber-savvy. They showed proof the way she grabbed at the buttocks of the men who f*cked her face, wanting them to pound her throat harder; the way she org*smed at her children sucking at her enormous tit*, the way she cried out in pleasure as monster dick after monster did distended and prolapsed her c*nt and anus, leaving them leaking waterfalls of sperm like a pair of busted pipes.

Many who had been oppressed by the high elves found great pleasure in these underground illusion recordings; having suffered under highborne rule in one way or another. It was a pleasure to them to see this MILF toilet-sow being throat-reamed while a swarthy co*cksman gripped her famously graceful, long ears.

Kaleen had wished for an obscenity; the chemical subjugation of hundreds of thousands of innocent people in the slums of Glimmertown. Outsider like Jack and Vex could have explained what they knew in their hearts - that the boot of authority stamping on a neck is a fouler thing than any sexual act, no matter how perverse.

Now, for her wickedness, Kaleen was receiving obscenity more than she’d desired.

She lacked the capacity to learn this lesson, though. She could only endure her punishment; the only mercy being that her mind would twist it into pleasure. The day was young, and the two hung f*ckers were pulling out of her holes, having dropped their enormous, filthy loads, to be replaced by beings even more lewd - a hulking, brutish half-ogre who had been one of her most vile test subjects, one of the sexual partners of Tess Vallen, still alive and now with Kaleen was a partner, his thirty-inch, stinky penis as thick as a log and covered in boils. Grinning mindlessly, the beast took a clumsy but powerful grip on Kaleen’s wide hips and buried himself into her asshole, dilating her anus grotesquely with sheer girth.

At the same time, one of Kaleen’s recently-born sons, with Number 52 tattooed near his collarbone, scrambled up atop the stocks that held her in place, gremlin-like in his movements. His young age was at odds with the enormity of his hanging co*ck and the fullness of his smooth, gray-skinned balls.

“Y-yes! F-f*ck mommy’s mouth while I get my ass destroyed!” Kaleen gurgled, her eyes willed with lust at the sight of her own progeny’s hanging donkey dick. “I need more dick. More diiiiiiiick!” She licked her lips and the youngster mounted her face and started f*cking, gagging her on his tool and making her moan and her eyes roll back.

The half-ogre’s dick was shredding her asshole; making the discolored interior lining of her bowels prolapse in a bump, dark-red sleeve that followed his co*ck out and then was rammed back in. Even the lining of Kaleen’s colon was covered in textured bumps from all the assf*cking she’d received - and now, she looked more like a f*ckpig than ever. Noticing this particularly degrading sight, many of the unsated slavers and test subjects surrounded her, standing slightly elevated above the roughly-dug f*ckpit she’d been installed into and masturbating their disgusting, oversized penises.

Two of the incubotic children, dicks dragging beneath them, walked up to her huge, inflated milk tanks and shoved their penises against her nipples, penetrating them and making the fat pores explode with sprinkler-bursts of creamy goo; they began to rape her pieced tit*, stabbing into the soft flesh as they pumped their small narrow hips. Others surrounded her and stabbed their dicks into her hair armpits, ejacul*ting all over them, half a dozen more took aim and showered her back, buttocks, hair, and breasts with streams of cum and piss.

“Diiiichchhhhhhhh!” she gurgled, brainlessly. “Mmmnnng ddkkkkkkkkk!” More dick. More dick. More dick. Her cries echoed into the air of the wasteland. Her ‘child’ unloaded on her face and she called out through the chowdery bursts of cream:

“DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK! COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCK! GIVE ME MOOOOOOORE!”

Their blank, soulless faces surrounded her. They closed in. She would have more dick.

Much, much more.