168 – 170 : The Ropes (3 and 4), Encounter (1)

Before she knew it, Rena was face first in uncharted territory. Her heart pumped wildly as the fair skinned woman’s clitoris thumped against Rena’s lips. Perhaps it was her feral nature kicking in, or the depths of ecstasy which caused such a response, but Rena wrapped her arms beneath the blonde’s thighs and hips, hooking them in the process. The young woman’s head tilted back ever so briefly, a sign that she was being fed what she desired most in the moment.

Rena could feel the woman’s hips gyrate, welcoming each new sensation as Rena explored a woman’s body for the first time. The expression of the blonde, a sublime mix of timid desire spurred Rena onward, even as the other women present continued to toy with her body.

They took turns feasting on each other, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue and everything in between. The temperature in the room, the atmosphere shifted to reflect this -- steamy and more heated. Each lady was more aggressive in fulfilling their desires, even pleasing themselves as they went to work, or helping one another reach climax.

Soon the women were once again a tangle of bodies with Rena as the foundation. Some leaned across and kissed each other feverishly, others freely drifted from position to position to caress any fruit their heart desired. Finally, after several heated moments Rena’s eyes widened as warm, slightly salty liquid rushed against her own lips and open mouth. It was her first time tasting the nectar of a woman, and the blonde convulsed several times as moans escaped her lips. She lurched forward, two hands on the mounds of cushions beneath them as the vestiges of orgasm settled over her body. Rena could feel the warmth of her own breath blowing back against her as she glanced upwards, their eyes meeting.

The look on the woman’s face was a mix of adoration and appreciation, so much so that Rena was disappointed as the woman separated herself from Rena’s grip. A thin trail of saliva and nectar lingered from her lips to Rena’s as she bit her lip and rubbed her vagina gently. She heaved, the lingering effects of the orgasm still affecting her senses -- but that didn’t stop another woman with long, navy blue hair from engaging the blonde.

The blonde girl released a startled yelp as her hips were pulled from under her, forcing her onto her back. Rena licked the nectar from her lips as she eyed the scene next to her, the sensation of orgasm slowly creeping upon the wolf-girl once more. Rena’s thighs clenched inward slightly as she felt a warm feeling growing within her tummy -- the sight of the blonde being taken added a new flavor to the taste of seduction.

The navy blue haired woman licked her lips, a determined look painted across her face as she glanced down towards the blonde’s love spot. It was then that Rena noticed a leather belt, a strap on, attached to the navy haired woman’s waist. She bit her bottom lip in anticipation as she guided a long, blue appendage downward. The head of the attached dildo brushed against the blonde’s lips, parting them ever so slightly before it was pressed inside with one quick motion. The blonde yelped once more out of surprise, despite having watched the entire act. Suddenly Rena felt the appeal of this particular girl, her reactions were like a drug. The way her eyes bordered on the line between unbridled lust and inhibition. The way her petite, perky tits bounced as the navy haired woman began to stroke.

The sight of watching her be filled sent a wave of fever through Rena’s body. It caused her body to grow even more wet, dampening anyone near. For a moment Rena’s breath caught in her throat, she realized that she’d just squirted on whomever was busy between her thighs. Her eyes glanced downward, only to find two women busily lapping up the juices expelled from her body. It was then that a secondary wave hit Rena, causing her abdomen to tense.

The women pleasing her gripped her body, firmly but gently -- holding Rena in place as they continued taking turns. Each woman offered a different sensation, one preferred using her tongue and loved licking Rena from her asshole to the clit. The other loved to suck, often taking Rena’s lips and vulva into her mouth and varying the strength of the suction which accompanied her pleasure.

Next to her the blonde was now being furiously pounded, the navy haired woman had a look of rapt focus as she began to expire. She was keenly focused on the blonde’s facial expression, body movements -- anything that would impart insight into the endeavor of making her cum. The blonde’s hands were firmly gripping the other woman’s wrists. She lifted upwards, as if stuck in a constant sit-up position, her body reacting to each thrust as the navy haired woman made sure to bury the strap on to the base.

A few moments later the blonde went limp as the built up pressure hit.  She could only lie there as the navy haired woman placed a firm grip on the blonde’s hips and focused each thrust, positioning to stimulate the g-spot with each motion. The blonde’s hands moved, searching for something to grasp, prompting Rena to reach out and offer her own grip. With that she erupted, her candy-like voice filling the air.

Several other of the women chuckled to themselves, admiring the display and half envious themselves. The blonde lay still, completely spent it seemed, as the navy haired woman slid out of her body. Her gaze then shifted towards Rena.

Her eyes were conveying her intent, she almost had the look of a predator -- one hungry for the taste of prey. The woman’s gaze was so intense, so overwhelming that Rena felt her spine quiver for a moment as the realization dawned upon her. The woman licked her lips as she moved towards Rena, taking a place next to the wolf-girl. Before Rena could respond a hand was wrapped around her neck, firmly exerting pressure. Seconds later the woman’s lips were pressed against Rena’s own, her tongue was eager and hungry to explore the wolf-girl’s mouth.

Rena’s eyes widened for a moment, taking in the sensations which accompanied such a bold approach. The pressure against her neck which threatened to cut off the circulation made her delightfully lightheaded. The woman’s rough, satin touch softened at just the right time, providing a fine balance between panic and discomfort. The thrill of being controlled caused Rena’s pulse to quicken and once again her body flooded outwards in response.

The navy haired woman parted lips with her, licking her lips as she moved to occupy the space between Rena’s thighs. The other women, having had their fill of Rena’s nectar, moved to the side finding new positions around Rena--or one another. Rena could, once again, hear how hard her own heart was beating -- the excitement overcoming her like an intoxicating drug.

The navy haired woman glanced up, a devious smile curling across her lips as she inserted the tip and plunged it deep into Rena’s body. The sudden intrusion was intentional and jarring, despite this it caused Rena’s body to react, growing wetter by the moment. The navy haired woman did not fail to miss this. She pressed two fingers against Rena’s lips and performed a cum hither motion, collecting a sample of Rena’s nectar before she brought her fingers to her lip. Rena’s heart skipped a beat as a shifting of the woman’s hips pushed the dildo deeper inside her tight,wet body.

“Where’s the new woman?” The dark skinned man asked, his braided hair shifting to the side as he cast a glance towards the doorway. There, the Guardian class adventurer, Fargo stood -- staring into the small room. It was made to bed at least six people at a time,but there were currently only four. It was a sobering reminder as to their current predicament, Fargo had seen many people come and go in his time as an adventurer. Rarely did a death hit him so hard.

Though he hadn’t outwardly shown emotion during or after the fact, the death of Ashe -- Glint’s best friend, had actually hit him quite hard. Originally the bald, husky man dismissed his erratic emotions as simply “getting soft”. After all, it had been quite some time since he’d been pressed into servitude, a life beneath the thumb of Enzo Gaines.

*One mistake. One moment. It’s funny how something like that can ruin your life.* Fargo thought this as he responded to Glint.

“She decided to alter her mark. It’s been nearly an hour, she should be done soon.”

Glint’s face shifted to surprise, disappointment then acceptance.

“Can’t blame her. Maybe if I had a pair of tits I’d do the same.” Glint responded as he turned back to his work -- whatever his work was.

“What are you doing?” Fargo asked as he stepped into the room. The other men in the nearby bunk beds did little else unless directly ordered or spoken to. Fargo had quickly written them off as the living dead, and with good reason. Even now, Fargo’s dreams were haunted by the sight of bodies bursting into black flames -- the last funeral pyre of an adventurer who had been pressed beyond a second death.

He clenched his fist, almost simultaneously as a sensory memory triggered the scent of burning flesh mixed with magical flames. For the briefest of moments, Fargo could envision a skeleton falling to the floor and eventually bursting into black embers as well. He pressed his eyes shut, willing himself to force the thought out of his mind.

Despite this, Fargo was beginning to truly believe that the same would be his fate. He knew very well the power of Gaines’ slave mark and he cursed whatever god or deity saw fit to place such an ability into this twisted world. Any entity or creature that placed such a broken “power” into that man’s hands….

Don’t speak ill of him. Don’t harm him. Don’t defy him in any way. Don’t do anything that would prevent him from making new slaves. Gaines' set of rules were ironclad, and paid in blood for anyone who dared to test them. Crippling, mind numbing pain awaited those who slipped up or tested the waters. And a fate worse than that bared down on any who persisted beyond that point.

Fargo, many times -- whether out of stubbornness or simply defiance -- had often had his will stripped away from him. At those times, it was like watching yourself speak and act while you were pushed to the fringes of your own consciousness. What’s more, the very act of this happening was indescribable. Paralyzing, all encompassing, burning -- these were just a few words that came to mind as Fargo mulled over his smoldering thoughts of resentment.

Glint gazed over at Fargo rather than responding and offered a smirk. Due to this , Fargo had an idea exactly what Glint was up to.

“Give it up. We’re gonna fucking die here. Unless someone kills that fat fuck first. Maybe his pet psycho will do the honors for us one day.” Fargo practically grunted. Even as he insulted the man he felt a burning pain flood the frontal lobe of his brain. This was brought about by the sheer malice he held towards his “doyenne”. Hell, even so much as thinking terrible thoughts about their captor was enough to bring anyone to their knees.

“You can die here. But I swear, I’ll be the one to--” Glint’s words trailed off as he gazed upon Fargo’s pained expression. The older man had, by then, pulled up a seat at the small table which sat against the nearby wall. He watched silently as Glint continued.

“Watch.” Glint said as he turned his attention to the table where he was busy manipulating a pair of daggers using little more than his own mana.

“I can see the mana threads which connect your blades. So what? It’s just a stupid trick.” Fargo asked. He seemed unimpressed and annoyed for the most part. Glint realized it had little to do with himself, and more so their collective situations. After all, who enjoyed being a slave? Except perhaps that psycho Zipher?

“Now.. look again.”  Glint said as he focused more intently. This time, the daggers stopped spinning counter clockwise to each other and slowly came to a stop. Instead, blue mana began to unlatch itself from the daggers, the strands resembling a snake being charmed by music.

Slowly, haphazardly the strands began to flop over on one another like each was subjected to a wild breeze. Or perhaps even enough gravity to cause them to fold, each in their own direction. Gradually this strange dance of mana strings began to reveal looping symbols, which then formed into very rudimentary letters.

Fargo watched, searching for some kind of meaning to the feat being shown to him. Clearly mana strings weren’t meant to be used for this. Furthermore, it seemed as if Glint was pushing himself to extremes in order to hold the fluid strings to a form of any type for such a short while. Yet, as the words began to take shape, Fargo began to smile.

His smile slowly turned into his first real heartfelt chuckle for quite some time. Soon, he could scarcely control it and the “dead men”, the ones who reacted to nothing, craned their heads to see what the fuss was about.

And just as suddenly as Fargo erupted into laughter, he abruptly stopped and got to his feet. Glint, his face covered in sweat and his hands shaking from over exertion of mana, spoke up once more.

“Still think it’s a stupid trick?”

Fargo’s eyes were alight with possibility now. For the first time in a long time he felt as if there was some kind of hope, a light amidst the gloomy shit of his everyday life. He couldn’t help but smile like an idiot as he thought back to the words created by Glint.

“I’m going to end him.”

“This is it. We finally found...an opening.” Fargo whispered, turning around to face Glint once more.

“We can.. We can..” There were so many possibilities, but so little time.

“Yes. But…” Glint used his hands to gesture calmness, then pressed his pointer finger to his mouth in hush. Fargo nodded, yet the smirk would not fade, nor would the renewed fire burning within his heart.

*We can use this. We can definitely use this.* Fargo thought as his gaze met Glint’s. The two nodded at one another, just a moment before their newest recruit appeared at the door.

The blue haired wolf-girl known as Rena seemed disheveled, almost distracted as she glanced into the room. Her brow was glistening with a sheen that had been worked up through laborious action. Fargo struggled to contain his smile, for fear that it might be misinterpreted as he stepped towards his new recruit.

“I think it’s time we visit the town.” He placed a hand on the wolf -girl’s shoulder.

“Glint. Care to come with?” Fargo asked as he peered back over his shoulder.

“Yea. I could use some fresh air.”

“So….Rena was it?” Glint asked as he tossed a thick brown cloak over his shoulders. He pulled the attached hood over his face before continuing his words.

“How was your introduction to the chapel?” Glint sincerely glanced at the woman’s face, expecting some sort of response. Instead the wolf-girl grappled with a sudden bout of shame, it caused her cheeks to redden -- as if she were a school girl being teased about a crush. She could only avert her gaze downward and hurriedly cover her face with her own hooded cloak.

A few steps away Fargo let out a hearty laugh, the sound of which was so foreign that the trio could feel eyes all around gazing upon them. Fargo took the lead, stepping up to the two adventurers who had no other purpose than to act as “bouncers” for the chapel which masqueraded as a nightclub.

The two muscular men didn’t show any outward signs of aggression but their expressions were hard like steel as one of them grunted, “Purpose?”

“Training the new one. And maybe some light snatching too.” Fargo added with gleeful enthusiasm. The bouncer shifted his right brow upwards, as if questioning whether Fargo’s mood was misplaced. Nevertheless, he stepped to the side and allowed the three enslaved adventurers to step out of the building and into the sunlight.

“I didn’t realize just how dark it was in there until now.” Rena remarked as she stepped into the light of midday.

“You’ll get used to it. Sadly.” Fargo added, though if truth was told Rena didn’t sense much lamentation in the bald Guardian’s voice. He then turned and began walking, as did their other companion Glint, leaving Rena to feel as if she were merely tagging along.

She searched her mind for something, anything that might help her bridge the distance between her and the complete strangers walking just ahead of her. Her mind swam with thoughts as she mulled over the crash course given to her by the man known as Fargo. She had a good idea of what was permitted and what was not, and for the most part the slave mark forced her into indentured servitude. That was, until such a time that the man known as Gaines felt “satisfied” with a person’s contribution to his cause--whatever that was.

Rena also realized that the terms of breaking a contract were so vague that most people never managed to measure up to them. In fact, she recalled winning a scoffing chuckle from Fargo when she asked if anyone had ever been released from their bondage. The last couple of days at Memento Mori had been filled with gloom and doom, save for her time with her new “sisters”. Which was why Rena was puzzled. Both of the men before her walked like they had a purpose and what’s more they seemed to be discussing something between one another. Their words were low so Rena couldn’t make it all out, but there was an unmistakable sense of excitement in the air. That and a sense of hopefulness, something Rena quickly learned was in short supply given her situation.

The trio soon approached the main road of Sprim Row, a large intersecting street which stretched from the main entrance to the end of the district. Now that there were more people nearby Rena entertained the idea of calling out for help, of letting anyone know of her current predicament -- yet even as the idea formed her throat began to burn. Soon she was rubbing her throat, her eyes were watering and she attempted to clear her throat in vain.

This drew a difficult to read glance from both Fargo and Glint. Rena thought she saw a hint of sadness and empathy behind their gazes, but their expressions were blank.

“So, you’re from the east right? What’s the name of the starter town there again?” Fargo asked as he directed his gaze before him once more.

“Oria.” Rena replied, her thoughts settling on her hometown.

“That’s the city nestled in the mountains right? That sounds really nice. I’ve never been myself. I’d like to go someday.” Glint added, though he was speaking to Rena, he didn’t bother to face her. For a brief moment she thought this might be rude, then the dark skinned man turned and tapped his temple a few times.

“Doesn’t hurt anymore--does it?” He then asked.

Rena’s eyes widened slightly as she realized the pain in her throat was all but gone.

“Y-yea. How-” She started to ask, but Fargo smiled and pressed a finger to his lips as if to say -- “our little secret”. Rena nodded, understanding somewhat as she thought she had an idea. The moment she focused her mind on something else the pain went away almost instantly. There must be rules to triggering Gaines’ mark. On this subject Rena recalled Fargo’s instructions to simply “don’t think or act on anything defiant and you won’t have any problems.”.

At first she thought the words to be lacking in context, but she now understood. It was intent that caused the pain in her throat. She swallowed, her eyes growing watery as she recalled the searing pain -- for a moment she almost lapsed back into it. It was a struggle to train her thoughts, but finally after a few more moments Rena managed to take a deep breath and control her own thoughts.

Unbeknownst to her, Fargo was still observing her from over his shoulder as they all walked. When she noticed his gaze the man simply nodded, as if to say “good job”. Before he looked forward and continued their conversation.

All around the trio people were going about their daily lives. Some resembled street urchins, others looked like hobos and yet still adventurers mingled within. The scent of the streets was less than appealing and a strange funk which Rena’s keen senses picked up on seemed to linger about the air.

*I’d never be caught dead in a place like this.* Rena thought, her nose quivering as they passed a particularly smelly alleyway. Just walking through the streets of Grenvale was causing her to miss home. The air was quite brisk, despite how bright the sun shone-- a gentle reminder that fall was upon them.

Occasionally Rena would have her attention drawn by her companions, they both seemed to have many questions and after a while she began to feel more at ease around them.

“So how are you dealing with the damper?” Glint asked as they rounded a corner and began walking down the main street of Sprim Row.

“Damper?” Rena asked, momentary confusion lingering over her.

“Yea. That’s what we call it. This..’mark’ doesn’t just restrict us, it also debilitates.” Rena noticed that Fargo chose his words very carefully as he spoke.

“I see you’re a rank one. But right now you’re probably at about half your strength. It’s even worse for those of us who have higher ranks.” Fargo said.

“What? I never even noticed.” Rena said, an annoyed grimace covering her face. She subconsciously looked down at the spot on her chest where a skull and dagger symbol shone faintly with purple energy. She moved her hand towards it, as if to wipe it away -- only to be shocked.

“Methods to keep us in line. To prevent a revolt.” Glint added to the commentary.

“Try not to touch it too much. Otherwise...well..you see what happens.” Fargo offered as they finally reached the large archway which led into central Grenvale. Rena glanced around, as if she’d just been introduced to a whole new world. To date she’d only seen Sprim Row, the poorest and dirtiest location within the city of Grenvale. She was now faced with proper adventurers, normals going about their everyday lives and a bustling square filled with various folks.

For a few moments she allowed the splendor of Grenvale at work to wash over her, she soaked up the sights and sounds, even the scent which was vastly better than Sprim Row. Then a shout, followed by the clang of metal drew her focus.

“Watch out!” The man named Glint shouted as he leapt into action, one of a pair of daggers at the ready. He intercepted a blow meant to cleave Fargo’s bald head from his shoulders. The impact from the weapon’s clashing rang out through the square, but scarcely anyone lifted their gaze to notice. A moment later Rena realized that they were under attack, and though she felt no allegiance to the persons she traveled with, she called forth her shuko. The metallic glove fit her hand perfectly causing long metallic claws to gleam as she began to step forth, her eyes locked on the person who dared to swing on them.

Fargo held up his hand , signaling Rena to stay where she was as he clenched his jaw, a strange grin forming across his lips. Fargo’s eyes were locked with the individual, Glint had managed to stop the blade of a halberd just centimeters from his throat. With a heaving shove, Glint forced back the halberd, pushing the woman several steps backwards in the process.

Rena recoiled upon focusing on the woman’s face, she could feel palpable waves of ill intent wafting outwards. It was enough to make her reconsider approaching -- as if she had any intention.

*Pink Eyes.* It was the first thing Rena noticed, in the shadows of a nearby building the woman’s features were hidden, but it was her eyes that shone through, piercing all that she set them upon.

“Dying once wasn’t enough it seems.” The woman’s words held a certain weight to them, as if each syllable commanded Rena’s compliance. She slowly averted her gaze, folding under the pressure of the red haired Succubus standing before them.