Terrible Company Ch. 07

"I think a bit of fun is in order first."

"Oh thank the gods," Ivy sighed, visibly brightening. "You do mean sex, right?"

"Not in the consensual meaning of the word," the Tailor said, grinning. "No."

"Ooh! Rape play!"

"We're not playing," the taller one said meaningfully.

"Got it," Ivy said, squirming helplessly in the shorter man's arms. He drove his knee forward into the back of hers, and Ivy squealed as she tumbled forward. "Help! Help!"

"That's right, little bird," the furry one grunted. "Sing!"

"That was more of a 'damsel-in-distress' voice," Ivy huffed, still laboring not insignificantly to free herself from the man behind her. "If you'd like, I could—"

"What you can do," The Tailor sneered as he unfastened the waistband of his leggings, "is to open your pretty little mouth very wide."

Ivy moaned as The Tailor withdrew his cock from his pants, twisting left and right in overly-enthusiastic futility. "Just so you know," she squeaked, "my safe word is Unicorrrrgh!"

"Don't think we'll be needing your safe word," the furry one laughed.

"Fuck," the taller one cried, as Ivy swallowed his rod to the hilt. "Was not expecting that." Ivy blinked up at him, her eyes wide and questioning, but nothing escaped her lips beyond a bit of drool. "What are you doing? Stop that!" The Tailor put both hands on the top of her head and held her in place as he rammed his cock into her throat a second time.

"What's she doing?"

"She's enjoying it!" he snarled incredulously. His balls bounced off her chin with every thrust. "Stop enjoying this!" Ivy's expression, what little she could control around her eyes, shifted toward a mask of fear, but it was a mask at best.

"Merciful Zeus," the shorted one cried. "She's grinding into me back here."

The Tailor pulled her off of his cock with a sneer. "Well, if the little slut asks for it, how about we give it to her?" He grabbed the base of his shaft and swiped it back and forth, wetly slapping the mushroomed head against her cheeks repeatedly. Entwining his fingers in her locks the torturer dragged the Bard to her feet, grabbed the neck of her blouse, and ripped it down the middle, exposing her prodigious, pale bosom and leaving the tattered remnants of fabric bunched around her arms.

"Oh no," she wailed. "Anything but that! Please don't give it to me." She shrieked again as a knife sliced through her breeches from behind, shredding them and exposing her sex to the damp, dungeon air. "Somebody please save me from these vile brutes."

"You aren't fooling anyone," the Tailor menaced, "but just you wait until my compatriot and I are done with you. We're going to leave you a mindless wreck." He grabbed and lifted her thigh, and with a vicious thrust, impaled himself in her cunt.

"Oh please don't. You're ruining my precious virgin innocence with your big, evil cock!" Ivy bounced off of her remaining foot and wrapped her legs around him tightly, all the while beating his chest feebly with her fists. "Unhand me, you vile, wicked men!" She threw back her head and howled as Mr. Tickles stepped up behind her and forced his disproportionately-large cock in her ass. "It's awful! Just awful! Stop this instant!"

The two men growled, thrusting harder and harder, slapping and grinding into her. All the while, Ivy thrashed half-heartedly at her abusers with her fists, and gave as good as she got with her hips.

"This isn't a game, you filthy slut! We're— Oh gods... she's milking me! Stop that! We're raping you!"

"Yes, and it's absolutely unbearable! You're tearing me apart! I'm definitely not enjoying this at all and I'm definitely not about to orgasm all over your nasty cocks."

"Fucking hell," Mr. Tickles panted. "She's too tight!"

"It would be such a shame to cum inside of her," the Tailor rasped.

"You monsters!" Ivy screamed, as she bore down even harder on the two thick cocks penetrating her. "Do not, under any circumstances—"

"Will you shut up already!?"

"Fuck," Mr. Tickles cried, as his cock twitched in anticipation of his impending orgasm. "Fuck! Fuck!" The Tailor, similarly struggling to maintain appearances, buried his face in her expansive cleavage and roared as he filled her ravaged hole with his seed, and the Bard tightened like a vice around both of them.

The shorter man whined, panicking when she clamped down so impossibly. He pulled and tugged, trying to free his spasming shaft. In a final, desperate act, he shoved hard against her back, dislodging his pendulous cock with a loud, lewd schluck. His cum arced through the air as he tumbled away, spraying the length of her back with sticky jets of white. The Tailor, meanwhile, failed to compensate for the shift in their collective center of gravity, and he fell in the opposite direction.

His breath left him in a rush as Ivy came down on top of him, and her thrusting missed nary a beat. His face darkened equally from the strain and lack of air, neither of which impeded the Bard in the least as she rode him. Hard. Her broad, curved hips crashed down against his, pounding his middle with more zeal than either man had mustered just moments before. Cum oozed down her back, dripping down into the crack of her ass as she bounced, snarling as she brought herself to a screaming, jaw-clenching, toe-curling, nail-scratching orgasm of her own.

"Wow," Mr. Tickles gasped breathlessly, stunned.

***

"Hurry!" Mathilda roared.

"Oh, now it's a priority for my hands to work quickly?" Ayen muttered under his breath about double standards as he poked and prodded at the control gizmo for the ceiling trap Ivy had triggered.

"Can't ye hear 'er screamin'?!"

"Not helping!"

Val squeezed her fingers under the only spot where she could get any purchase at all, and tried lifting the massive slab again with no more luck than she'd had the first seven times.

"Almost got it," he hissed.

"We can't wait anymore!" Katsa shouted as she reached into her sleeve. "Everyone get clear!"

"Almost got it!"

Just as Katsa reared back, the gizmo sparked brightly and the stone lurched up from the floor. Everyone readied their weapons, unsure of what to expect, but they were none of them prepared for the sight of Ivy, clothes shredded, luxuriating on her back in a small pool of cum. She smiled lazily as she stretched, like a cat just waking up from a pleasant nap in a sunbeam, while the others tried, with varying degrees of success, not to stare.

Ayen looked back at the control gizmo. "I never get the sexy traps!"

Mathilda guffawed, and after a moment, stared around at the rest of the group. "Are ye just gonna let that slide by? Ah can't be the only one thinkin' it." The others merely stared. "Seriously? No one's gonna jump on 'at?"

***

"Ah don't remember coming down this many stairs."

"Well," Val sang, looking upwards thoughtfully, "we did fall through the floor once." Everyone groaned in unison.

"What was the thought process there?" Ayen laughed. "Was it that acid would eat through heroes but not the stone beneath us?"

"We're sooo not heroes," Katsa said, shaking her head.

"Well, no, but hypothetically, that's who's gonna storm your dungeon."

Mathilda, leading the way, pushed through a door leading out of the top of the stairwell. She stopped to look around at a pile of bodies while the rest of the group slowly moved around her. "Did we do tha'?"

Val pointed to one body, in the middle of the others and wearing yellow robes, as she walked. "That's the one that laughed at your hammer."

"Can't be," the Dwarf scoffed. "Ye can still make out 'is face."

"You made that crack about his yellow robes, and having 'beat the piss out of him'? Remember?"

"And then you laughed at your own joke," Ayen sighed.

"For like 10 minutes," Katsa added tiredly.

Mathilda snickered as she kicked the yellow-robed corpse onto it's back. "Aha!" she shouted, pointing excitedly. "Ah told ye this weren't me 'at dumb bastard was stabbed." Katsa and Ivy peered over her shoulders, nodding in acquiescence, and then everyone took another hard look around the room. "Ah don't think we did this." Just like that, the six bodies on the floor were much more terrifying. Chilling. If someone else was running around, killing indiscriminan—

"No, wait," Katsa grumbled. "These are definitely ours. This was the... um... the circle." A collective groan passed through most of the party.

"Circle of what?" Ivy asked.

"They were... you know..." Katsa made an almost-fist, and shook her hand back in forth in front of her groin. "... in a circle?"

Ivy merely tilted her head in confusion. "I don't remember any dice game," the Bard said thoughtfully. Katsa groaned. "I do remember a room full of-Hey! Aren't these the guys that were all jerking off?"

"Yes," everyone else responded wearily. Ivy preened, feeling particularly helpful.

Mathilda whined. "If these are the jerkers, then we're—"

"Not anywhere near the way out," finished Val. They all sighed as they shuffled tiredly through into the next room and down a long hallway. When they got to the far end of that, Val began motioning intently with her hand.

"None'f us know what that means," Mathilda hissed. "Keep it simple!"

"Fist means stop!" Val growled, holding her tightened fist in the air over her shoulder. "How much more simple does it get?"

"Well it's no' intuitive! If ye were tryin' to say somethin' like 'impending punches', then sure. Waggin' yer fist'd be appropriate."

"It's really not intuitive," Katsa whispered, shaking her head alongside the Healer.

"Oh hey!" Ivy said, as she passed Val and looked into the next room. "Hi guys!" She smiled brightly as she stepped through, and the rest of the party followed tentatively in her wake. "Everyone, this is The Tailor and Mr. Tickles! My 'rapists'!" she laughed, making air quotes with her fingers. Both men paled as they found themselves outnumbered, although it was harder to spot on Mr. Tickles.

"Please!" The Tailor laughed weakly as he stared up at Val, who, along with the rest of the party, was eyeing him very hard. "Call me Reg."

"Larry," Mr. Tickles said, laughing extremely nervously and waving. "That's what all my friends call me."

The leather grip creaked ferociously in Mathilda's grip. "Ah wasn't aware we were friends."

"These guys were great," the Bard gushed. "They did such a good job of staying in character."

Larry and Reg shrank under the ever-increasing scrutiny of her party members. Mathilda's scowl, in particular, was most unpleasant. "Can we... uh..." Larry swallowed hard. "Can we... uh...."

"What my friend here is trying to ask, is" Reg added, stepping forward to address Ivy while studiously ignoring the glares coming from elsewhere, "is there anything else we can do for you?"

"Awww," the furry one said, smiling abruptly. "You called me your friend!"

"Not now," Reg hissed.

"Well, it's just that you've never called me your friend before!"

"Not now!"

"I mean, I've always thought we were friends, but it was... it was surprisingly nice to hear out loud."

Reg squeezed his eyes shut, seething in frustration while he waited for the shorter man to finish. "As I was saying—"

"You're my friend too," Larry said, smiling.

"Great," the taller one gritted. "Just-just great. Glad we got that sorted out."

"Me too," Larry beamed.

"Yes," Katsa shouted impatiently. "There is something you can help us with."

"Oh thank god," Reg whimpered.

"Is there a faster way out than the way we came in?"

Larry and Reg turned toward each other, mouths hanging open. "As a matter of fact," Reg finally answered.

***

The Employees Only tunnels proved to be an incredible time saver. The dungeon had been laid out in an intentionally-dizzying manner, doing everything it could to delay and confuse any would-be assaulting force, but the well-lighted access tunnels were designed to be easy to follow, with multi-lingual signs at regular intervals. On Reg's advice, they merely nodded at anyone they passed and thus were able to move, unmolested, out into the nearby forest within the hour. A vast improvement on the 13-hour odyssey to get inside in the first place.

***

"Can Ah ask ye a question, lass?" Mathilda said, as they piled logs for their campfire. Ivy nodded exuberantly. "Would you ever want to have sex with him? Ayen, I mean."

"No," Ivy replied, shaking her head. "I don't think so."

"Ah mean, Ah know he's a bit of a ponce..."

"Standing right here," Ayen said, from the other side of the small pit they'd set up.

"...but never?"

Ivy squinted thoughtfully. "I guess you can't really rule out something like that. Like, if some evil wizard said 'you have to fuck this man, or I will execute one hundred baby seals!' I could probably manage it then."

"What if it were only fifty baby seals?"

"Yep."

Ayen shook his head. "You think you're very funny, don't you?"

"Thirty baby seals?"

"Uhm..." Ivy sucked a long breath between her teeth. "Hard to say." Mathilda cackled gleefully. "There's definitely a cut-off point somewhere. Baby seals are adorable, but they can be pretty terrible when they grow to adulthood. One of them broke my parents marriage when I was a little girl."

"Well that took an unexpected turn," Katsa muttered grimly, from her spot at the edge of the clearing where she was working on some component materials.

"Ah'm almost afraid to ask," the Dwarf whispered, "but... when you say... 'broke their marriage'... d'ye mean that—"

"—that a stampede of seals trampled the building where marriage records were being kept at the time."

"Oh thank Rhogan."

"Absolutely obliterated it."

"Never heard of seals stampeding," Val stated, eyebrows raised, as she leaned back against a log with her whetstone and short blade.

"Really?" Ivy frowned. "Happens all the time back in St. Olaf."

"Ah'm just glad that di'int turn into a story abou' a stud lion seal an' yer mum."

"Oh no," Ivy said, shaking her head emphatically. "That was Dad, and it wasn't until years later. Totally unrelated."

"No," Val said, shaking her head. "Absolutely not."

"But," Mathilda stammered. "But 'ow—"

"Absolutely not," Val repeated. Before Mathilda could recover, however, a noise drew everyone's attention away from Ivy; heads whirled at the cracking of a dry branch underfoot.

"Hi guys!" Ivy said, smiling brightly. Reg and Larry waved tiredly as they stepped through into the small clearing. "Fancy running into you out here!"

"Yeah," Ayen added emotionlessly. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Would it be alright," the taller one asked, "if we shared your fire for a bit tonight?"

"We're, uh..." Larry sighed. "We're not really looking forward to heading home."

"Why?" Katsa scoffed. "Because the old Ball and Chain is going to smell the red-headed wonder all over you?"

"Thank you," Ivy said, swelling with pride.

"First of all," Larry snapped, "no! We showered!"

"Second," Reg said, picking right up, "and more importantly, it's because we're going to have to tell them we were sacked today."

"Which, as I recall, is your fault."

"No no," Reg said quickly, putting his hand in front of Larry. "Don't hate the players. Hate the game."

Larry nodded reluctantly.

"Rather than engage in backbiting and endless recriminations, we were hoping we could just share a pint with you lot and forget about who did what to whom, or was on what side, for a little while."

"That sounds a bit convenient," Mathilda said sourly, "but who am Ah kiddin'? Ye had me at 'pint'. Don't s'pose ye brought yer own then?"

Both men shook their heads.

"No ma'er. Ah got plenty." She squinted at them sideways as she sorted through her pack. "You boys strike me as Hooch men."

"Actually," Reg started, but he gasped and skittered to catch a bottle she tossed his way and never finished the rest of that sentence. Larry caught his much more agilely.

***

"That's evil!" Val gasped, placing both hands protectively over her groin.

"Sure," Reg allowed, "sure. But it's also effective." He took another swig from the nearly opaque bottle. "And, most importantly—"

"It leaves the tongue free to keep talking," Val and Reg finished together.

"Right!" Reg laughed. "See? You're getting the hang of it."

"Maybe it's in my blood," the big Orc snickered. "Maybe one of my ancestors was in the torture business."

"Are you..." Reg sort of wiggled his torso back and forth, unsure of how to approach a delicate racial custom. Orcs could be extremely sensitive about their culture. "Do you... talk to..."

"I do. Or at least, I'm learning to. I was orphaned among humans, and it was a long time before I went looking for my real family." Ivy sat up and smiled at Katsa, pointing emphatically. Katsa didn't look up from her work, but she did raise one finger as a kind of response.

Larry took a few bracing breaths and sat forward, speaking for the first time in a while. "Can I ask you all a question?"

"Of course," Ivy said first, but affirmative answers from the others were right behind it.

"When you get hired for jobs like this—"

"Oh for fucks sakes," Reg said, rolling his eyes. "Not this again."

"Come on! This is a perfect chance to prove I'm right!"

Reg shook his head. "But that's not what's going to happen. They're going to say 'we have no idea what you're talking about,' which you'll take as further proof of a conspiracy. It's classic confirmation bias."

"What conspiracy?" Ayen said, perking up.

Reg sighed, resigned. "Big Dungeon."

Larry was practically salivating. "Everyone knows that the heads of all the biggest Dungeon corporations are in a secret cabal together. It's a fact."

"Sometimes, I don't think you even know what the word 'fact' means."

"It's a fact," Larry pressed on, ignoring the disdain dripping from his friend's voice. "They've been controlling the Dungeon market for years, and through that, they've gained control of several key markets across international borders. Now, I'm all for working the angles, you know... maximizing profits and whatnot, but controlling prices is—"

"I'm sorry," Katsa interrupted. "Controlling the prices of what, exactly?"

"Well normally, in a free market—"

"Do not get started on that free market bullshit, Larry."

"But it's not a free market," Larry insisted. "There are patterns! Every time a Dungeon starts to lose some of its profitability, Bam! Wiped out by adventurers."

"Adventurers like us?" Mathilda asked.

"Couldn't a loss in profitability," Ivy said, furrowing her brow, "corelate to, and be indicative of, a larger loss of focus for a business entity? ie, Profits are down because people aren't doing their jobs across the board, which is when they'd be vulnerable to something like 'an assault'?"

The rest of the party stared mutely at her, their jaws slack.

Larry swelled, puffing his chest as he circled his point like a lion around a staked lamb. "But how would the adventurers know that unless someone sends them? Someone on the inside!"

"Wait," Val said, "you're saying that this Cabal, whoever they are, are hiring people like us..."

"Through intermediaries, but yes."

"...to raid their own dungeons..."

"We use the term 'raze', but yes."

"... because... they want to control 'the market'."

"Exactly!"

"And which market is this?" Katsa asked.

"Oh, it's all very complex. They've got their hands in a lot of pots, but the point is—"