Panty Raiders Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Dragon My Balls Across Your Face

Marshall woke up to the feeling of something lightweight flopping onto the foot of his bed. Rolling to the side, he opened his eyes and blinked a few times. He was still incredibly groggy, but he could barely make out…

Was that… Saria? In his bed? She looked crudely tied up, more like a poorly trussed salmon than an appetizing elf. Marshall squinted his eyes, not quite able to comprehend what he was looking at.

“Must still be dreamin’.” He mumbled, turning over and burying his head under the covers once more.

“Ehh?” Saria whined, wriggling her way towards his face. Marshall didn’t respond, he just kept trying to go back to sleep. Any minute now he’d wake up, and Saria would be out of his bed. It’d be great. A nice slow morning, maybe make some bacon and eggs-

“M-Marshie? Are you ignoring me?”

BOY, IT SURE WAS A NOISY DREAM HE WAS HAVING. HE’D HAVE TO CONCENTRATE REAL HARD ON GOIN’ BACK TO SLEEP.

Saria managed to flop herself overtop of him, rubbing her face against his. “Maaaaaaaaaarshieeeeee… pleaaaaase get up?”

He sighed, running his fingers through his- what?

“Saria.”

“U-um, yes?”

“Any particular reason yer panties are on my head?”

“Eheh… I-I figured you could um… u-use them?”

“…I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Could ya put them back on, please?”

She hung her head a little as he walked away. Why’d she have to be here this early? It’s not like he didn’t appreciate her company, but damn it, it was hard putting up with her shenanigans when he’d just woken up. He turned on the tap and opened the door abruptly, finding- nothing?

Maybe he was just being paranoid. It’s not like she was that bad, so long as he put his foot down. He washed his hands and headed back to his room, where Saria was- oh god.

She was completely naked, and had stretched herself out on the bed, trying to look as alluring as she could, but he couldn’t take her seriously with her wearing her own panties on her head. He had to try his best not to laugh at her. It’s not as though she wasn’t good-looking. She was slim, but, well, healthy in all the right places. But he could hardly tear his eyes away from the bear on her underwear staring at him. He turned his back on her when he realised he was staring.

“Like what you see, cowboy~?” She asked.

“Well, it ain’t like I didn- Uh…That ain’t what I meant when I said put ‘em back on.”

“Are you maaaad? Maybe I need a little punishment for disturbing you…”

“Weeeelp. I’m makin’ breakfast. Want some?”

“O-oh! Yeah!”

She followed him to the kitchen, holding onto his shirt the whole way. As he plugged in the griddle, he turned around.

“You, uh… plannin’ on gettin’ dressed?”

She smiled brightly. “Nope!”

“…Please get dressed.”

“Hmmm… nope. I don’t wanna.” She squeezed her breasts together with her arms ever-so-slightly. “Why don’t you just enjoy the view~?”

Saria.

“Are you gonna make me, cowboy?

“You can do whatever you want, but I’m gonna start cookin’ bacon, so don’t come cryin’ to me when you get hot grease on somethin’ sensitive.”

The elf’s face paled a little. “Um… I’ll be right back…”

Marshall sighed a little when he felt a small pair of hands slip into his back pockets and squeeze his butt. “That smells really good, Marshie! Could I have a little sausage for dessert~?”

“You are insatiable. Look, I’m gonna make some bacon, so why don’t ya go sit down and watch some TV or somethin’?”

Saria sat down at the kitchen table, staring listlessly at Marshall for a few minutes as he cooked, not saying anything. Maybe she was gonna settle down now?

“So, Saria, tell me how you like yer eggs.”

“Fertilized.” Saria said, without skipping a beat.

She heard a crack, and looking over to the side, she saw that Marshall had crushed the pair of eggs he was holding.

Whoops. Better get a couple more.” Marshall muttered, giving Saria a death glare.

Saria shuddered. “O-over medium…”



Marshall sighed in relief, cracking the eggs over the bacon grease and covering them with a small pot lid.

“Saria, we need to talk.”

Saria jumped in her seat. “T-talk? What about?”

“You should know right well what I’m talkin’ bout.”

Saria’s ears lowered, he wasn’t mad, was he? She worked very hard to give him a morning he wouldn’t forget, but was she really just being annoying?

“I really ‘preciate all the things you’ve done for me recently, you rescued me from them hellhounds, helped out in the shoggoth dorm, and even though that fish curry wasn’t the best, it was an evening I ain’t gonna forget anytime soon.”

Saria looked up, tears welling in the corner of her eyes. Was he going to…

“But I think you’re comin’ on a bit strong. I didn’t join this campus t’score a lady, see? I don’t have the time or the funds to invest in making someone else happy. That’s not to say I don’t like you, you’re a charmin’ elf. I just… dunno if I’m ready yet.”

Saria leaned her head forward, partially obscuring her face. “You don’t need to spend money on me, Marshie. I’m fine just doing the things we do together! You know, with Natasha and Prupru! I’m not asking for your dedicated time and money, I just don’t want to be alone anymore. Don’t you hate being alone?”

Marshall flipped over the eggs, deep in thought. He wasn’t alone per se, he had his friends Cheslav and Church to keep him company, but he knew what she meant, and she was right. With the low confidence he had about his body and the whole “mountain dew blood” thing, he had developed a complex that stopped him from truly realizing that something was missing in his life, something that couldn’t be stolen from a dorm and mounted on a wall.

“Whelp… I reckon I am.” Marshall flipped some bacon over and winced as a few grease bubbles splattered his hand. “Somethin’ about female companionship an’ all that, I guess.”

“Sooo… are we gonna…?” Saria drummed her fingers together.

“I guess we can give this a shot, just try to tone it down from now on, y’hear?”

Saria’s ears started twitching, and she knelt up on her seat so she could reach over and hug him, but her knee slipped and her stomach fell dangerously close to the griddle right as Marshall lifted the bacon off of it, splattering her exposed tummy with grease.

“Kyaaa!” Saria quickly grabbed Marshall’s shoulders to stop herself, but not before their heads bashed together.

“K-kissu?” She asked.

What?

“U-um… I…”

“Didja say ‘kiss you?’”

“Y-yeah… aha… That’s what I said…”

Marshall cleared his throat and looked away. “Uh… J-just this once, though, y’hear?”

Saria had to try with all her might to avoid her natural instinct to squeal. Finally! He was going to do it! She’d waited for so long! Should she stick out her tongue like his little slut or let him take her on his own? Maybe he’d even pull out his dick and rub it on her face, then tell her to kiss that!? She closed her eyes, panting from excitement.

She nearly quivered with anticipation as she felt him get closer. She puckered her lips a little and felt his lips press against her- cheek? What? No. No, no. She opened her eyes, and there he was, blushing while he kissed her chastely on the cheek. Goddammit.

“Fuckin’ cucked again…” She muttered to herself.

What?

“Uh… N-nothing…”

They ate breakfast mostly in silence, with Saria giving occasional disappointed glances to Marshall. Who did Marshie think he was, copping out like that? Did he think he could get away with it just because he was really cute? She hadn’t even asked for anything that bad yet.

Marshall noticed the looks he was getting, but he decided to ignore them as best as he could. He knew he probably should have gone in for an actual kiss, but she was just pressuring him so much. He didn’t want to end up screwing it up, since he hadn’t actually done it with anyone he actually cared about in such a long time. Oh god, it looked like she was going to take another pass at him.

“Well, um, thanks for the breakfast, Marshie. Maybe we should go work it off, now~?”

He knew her game. Fortunately, he knew his, too. There were rules, dammit. “Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea, seein’ as I’m tryin’ to, uh, fix up my health a bit.”

“R-really!?”

“Yeah, why not? Throw on somethin’ nice and follow me.”

Saria’s ears fluttered. She slurped up some stray drool and ran upstairs to put the rest of her clothes on.

>_________________________________________________________<

“…This isn’t what I meant.”

“What? Did ya wanna hit the weights before runnin’?”

Saria huffed loudly, pouting as she hit Marshall’s arm. “You knew what I meant, didn’t you?”

“Whaaaaat? Nah. Come on, let’s get- aaaaaww shit.”

From across the gym, he could see a suspiciously tall-looking figure stand up from the bench press, then start running towards them. She was panting by the time she reached them.

“F-ugh-f-fuckin’ cardio… killing muh fucking… g-GAINS!” She dry-heaved a little, bending over.

“Uh… hey there, Ash.”

“W-what the hell are you doin’ in my gym, you little, uh… fuccboi?

“Uh… goin’ for a jog?”

“And you thought you’d just get away without talking to me, first?”

“Y… yeah? Is this a trick question?”

She puffed out her chest and strutted towards Marshall, bumping her chest against his. “Well you better think again, you big, hands- dumb cowboy! I’m the boss of this gym!”

“Really? I’ve been here the last couple days an’ haven’t seen hide nor hair of ya.”

“J-just ‘cause I’m not here doesn’t mean I’m not still the boss! Are you trying to intimidate me just ‘cause you’ve got those big, manly muscles on you!?”

“Uh, no? Look, we’ll stay outta your hair, I ain’t lookin’ for any trouble.”

“What’s that? You wanna sniff my hair? W-well… Fine, I’ll let it slide this time. Get that cute little- uh… f-fat ass of yours running, or I’ll kick it into g-”

The alp was cut off by Saria growling at her from atop his shoulders. “NO. MINE.”

“Wh-what? Fuckin’… s-stupid elf! We’re sworn enemies! It’s not like we could get into some super-romantic Romeo and Juliet, never meant to be-type thing! A-and if we did, I’d be Romeo because I’m tough and cool and-”

“’MINE. LEAVE! SKREEEEEEEE!‘” Saria didn’t stop screeching until Ash had awkwardly shuffled away, protectively wrapping her entire small body around Marshall’s head.

“Uh, thanks Saria… you can stop now, by the way…” She continued breathing heavily, not loosening her grip on him. He waved his hand around above his head, managing to smack the elf in the face before resting his hand on her head, petting her gently until she calmed down. “Thaaaat’s right. That’ll do, Saria. That’ll do. It’s all over now.”

“…M-Maybe… c-could I get a reward? Of cummies?”

“Uh… look, Saria, not right here, alright?”

“Maaaaybe I could just do it under your desk while you work, then?”

“S-stop that.”

Saria gave a frown, but refused to let go of Marshall’s hand for a few laps around the track. Saria started to fall behind, little-by-little, and by the time they had  finished their fourth lap, she found herself panting, unable to catch up.

“M… Mashie… w-wait…”

“Y’doin’ okay? I, uh… I kinda figured you’d be runnin’ circles around me by now.”

“I… books… don’t run…. Anymore… Will you… c… carry me?”

“What? Don’t you wanna just sit down or something?”

She clutched at his shirt, leaning into him. “D… did I stutter?”

“Yes?”

“JUST FUCKING DO IT MARSHIE!”

“Jeez, y’don’t hafta get mad. Arrite, hop on up.”

Saria crawled onto Marshall’s back, giving his sweaty neck a less-than-subtle lick as she settled her head on his shoulder.

After a few minutes of running with the elf on his back, Marshall fell to his knees, exhausted.

“Uh, I’m beat. You wanna just hit the showers an’ go back?”

“Yeah!”

Saria tugged fruitlessly at Marshall’s arm, trying to drag him into the men’s locker room with her.

“No.”

“Come oooon!” Saria whined, beckoning.

“Look, we can’t just pull this in public! Go on, I’ll meet you on the other side.”

“But Marshiiieeee…” She looked at him with wide eyes, pleading.

“Get on gone, I’ll see ya in a minute.”

“Fine… I won’t be seeing you in the locker room. All naked and defenseless…”

“S-stop that.”

>_________________________________________________________<

Marshall stripped off his sweaty clothes and grabbed a towel. He peeked around the corner of the lockers, looking for Saria. Had she actually not followed him in? Huh, maybe she was going to behave herself after all.

As he walked to the showers, he had all of two seconds to react before Saria pounced from the ceiling, bringing Marshall down to the floor with her vagina in his face and her arms shielding his head from the floor.

“Mrrmph HRRM?!?”

“This is happening now, Marshie! Prupru got with Church before I got with you and it’s not fair. Whether you like it or not, I am getting a piece of that TexASS!!!

Marshall reached up and grabbed Saria’s ass, intending to pry her off his face, but her pheromones hit him like a semi. He hated to admit it, but there was something primal about being so wanted that she literally jumps you to take you. Deciding that a roll in the hay couldn’t hurt, he pushed her closer instead and buried his tongue between her labia. They parted easily, eager for his entry.

Saria shivered in delight as soon as she felt him bury his tongue inside her, wrapping her bare legs around his head. His tongue was being so aggressive, she soon found herself unable to take it any longer and pried herself from his grasp.

“Y-you’re good at that, Marshie! Let’s just skip to the good part before I lose control?”

Marshall nodded, letting Saria grab his gym shorts and pull them off, followed by his boxers. A wave of hot musk flooded Saria’s nostrils, making her eyes roll back. Guys who were all hot and sweaty from exercising and hadn’t yet showered were the best. Unable to help herself, she grabbed his semi-erect cock and held it up so she could bury her nose into his nutsack.

“Whoa there Saria, take it easy. Is this level of frivolity even necessary?”

Saria didn’t answer, she kept licking the musk off of him, moaning the entire time. Finally, she held his shaft level with her mouth, and slid in as much as she could, licking off more of his sweat. Marshall thought about questioning her again, but her tongue caressing his length like a velvet sleeve was enough to quiet him down.

Saria gave it her all, occasionally popping his cock from her mouth to suck on one of his balls. She was drunk off his musk, and couldn’t wait until he actually came, and released all that pent up stress inside her mouth.

“S-Saria, damnit slow down, ya don’t want me to cum so soon do y-” Marshall was cut off when Saria grabbed him by the balls and deepthroated him to the base, finishing him off. Marshall devolved into a series of moans as she sucked down his cum, repressing her gag reflex just like she practiced with the kielbasa sausage for this very day.

Popping the tip out of her mouth, Saria exhaled, latching onto Marshall’s leg.

“Holy shit, Saria. Where’d you learn somethin’ like that?”

“Rapefruit.”

“Pardon?”

“Grapfruit?”

“Still lost.”

“GEBFROOP!”

“Are you sure yer alright to continue this?” Marshall asked, looking down at Saria with great concern. Saria grabbed Marshall’s dick, rubbing her face against it protectively. “Garbfoof…”

Marshall rolled his eyes, Saria was a little drunk on semen, but he knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until he ‘caught her up’ with Prudence. Lifting her up by her hips, he let her head rest against the floor while he angled his hips downward and hammered down into her cunt like a pile driver. Saria let out a lewd squeak at every thrust, making an awful lot of noise, but Marshall didn’t pay any mind to it.

“Nnnf! F-fuck! S-slow down, Marshie, you’ll end this too soon~” Saria begged, helpless to stop him. Not that she wanted to, however.

“Nope, t-this is gonna be my one s-solid to ya. A-after that, I want you to promise me you’ll stop pesterin’ me for sex.”

“Nnngh! C-can we at least do it more after t-this!?”

“W-well…” Marshall didn’t answer, slowing his pace down.

Saria only looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“F-fine, once a week.”

“Three times a week!”

“You’re crazy!”

“T-twice a week…?”

“Fine, that’s bout all the action I can handle anyway.” Marshall started to pump his hips again, causing Saria’s moans of ecstasy to speed up.

“Gonna cum soon…” Marshall warned, grinding himself while hilted out inside Saria.

“Y-you better cum inside!” Saria warned back, locking her legs around him.

“You ain’t gonna get pregnant, are ya?”

Saria shook her head. “IUD, I was afraid you were gonna hit it with how big you are~”

Marshall rolled his eyes, he had to admit, she was kinda cute when she wanted to be. He brought his hips forward, slamming into her a few more times before he was pushed over the edge, and he came inside of her, filling her up while gravity helped rope after rope of his cum gush into her womb. Saria squeezed her legs tightly around him, then went limp, having just reached her own peak.

For a few minutes, neither of them said a word to each other, just holding that position. Marshall almost fell over, but steadied himself. He was the one to break the silence.

“So, what aren’t ya gonna do again?”

Saria sighed. “Alright, I won’t try to make you rape me. But… two times!”

This time, Marshall sighed. “…Two times.”

Another silence, this time Saria broke it. “L-let’s go back to your place and watch something?”

“You know what? That sounds dandy.”

They rinsed themselves off in the shower, got dressed, and then headed back to Marshall’s.

***

Natasha stood outside the door to Cheslav’s flat. She would knock, but it was already being propped open with a cinderblock. S-should she knock anyway? It looked like he was expecting her but… if he wasn’t expecting her yet, it might be rude to just barge in. After all, she was an hour early.

N-not that she was excited or anything, she just… wanted to make sure nobody was breaking into his home. Right. Definitely not because she was super excited and couldn’t wait any longer.

She didn’t need to ponder whether to knock or not for long, because Cheslav crossed the entryway wearing his signature camouflage tracksuit. “Oi privyet! Dead lady is little early, but no matter. Come, we can start now.” He beckoned her inside.

Natasha breathed a sigh of relief, one less decision she had to make. She headed on inside and immediately noticed how different Cheslav’s house was during the day. At night, it was quiet, creepy, and all the newspaper articles and antique guns on the wall made the place look foreboding, but now it gave the place character. He might be a weirdo (and a real freak), but he was his own man. He didn’t march to the beat of anyone else’s drum but his own, and she really respected that.

“Is Natasha ready to extract caviar?” He asked, leading Natasha to the dining room table and snapping on some latex gloves.

Yes, Cheslav might not be the most orthodox of humans, or even the most noble, but that was why she lov- wait, extract?

Natasha screamed as Cheslav dragged a 3 meter long beluga sturgeon into the room.

“Ch-Cheslav!? What the hell is that!?” Natasha pointed accusingly at the fish.

“Is beluga sturgeon, where best caviar comes from. Had small farm back in motherland, but ever since came here, have been raising one in school fountain. Today, she so happen to be of ripe for caviar harvest.”

Natasha felt the world spinning around her, but resisted the urge to faint. “H-how did… nobody notice you raising a 10 FOOT LONG STURGEON IN THE FUCKING FOUNTAIN!?”

“Cheslav wonders too, sometimes… Need help getting onto table anyway. Can dead lady use her magics?”

Natasha looked at the dead fish, then the table. That fish was definitely too heavy for even their combined effort to just lift up. She would have to use magic if they were going to get that… thing onto the table.

“W-well, Cheslav, the thing is that I… don’t exactly have that much control over my magic yet. I’m getting a little better, but the only thing I’m really good at right now is throwing balls of force around and crushing things.” Natasha drummed her fingers together nervously.

“Hmmm…” Cheslav pulled up a stool, staring at the dead fish contemplatively. “Perhaps… Natasha can toss fish in air, and Cheslav will guide to table on way down.”

“Err…” Natasha wasn’t sure if she liked that idea, but it was better than nothing. “Okay, b-but please be careful? I don’t want it landing on you and hurting you.”

“Is fiiine, not of worryings!”

Natasha gulped, but took her hand and surrounded it with glowing energy, wrapping an ethereal arm around the dead fish and launching it upwards. It just barely grazed the ceiling, and was now plummeting down towards Cheslav.

Ohnoohgodhe’sgoingtogetsmushedbythatfishandit’llbeallmyfaultohgodpleasegetoutofthewayCheslavplease…

Just as Cheslav was about to try and shove the fish towards the table, Comrade Cluckers jumped off the kitchen counter and judo-kicked the fish, making it crash directly in the center. The table made some scary creaking noises, but ultimately, the oak held up.

“Ah! Comrade Cluckers. Such a good chicken, have treat.” Cheslav pulled out some bits and bites from his pocket and tossed them on the floor, the chicken strutted over and started eating them.

Meanwhile, Natasha stood there, jaw agape. How in the… Where did he come from? How did…? That had to be 400 pounds at least!

After mulling it over in her brain for a minute, she decided on not worrying about it. This was their special day together. So what if it wasn’t going how she expected it to? It was Cheslav after all.

“Now that fish is on table, Natasha, fetch knife please. Is in drawer, left of stove.”

Natasha snapped herself out of her thoughts, and headed to the drawer, opening up. She expected to find a typical knife set, but he only had AK bayonets.

“O-okay, which one?”

“One with golden handle.”

“There’s two of them with golden handles.”

“One with cosmoline at base.”

“They both have cosmoline at the base.”

Cheslav sighed. “Does not matter, bring either one.”

Natasha handed the knife to Cheslav’s outstretched hand, and he quickly inspected it.

“Yes, sharp enough. Does dead lady want to perform opening cut?”

Sweat rolled down Natasha’s forehead. “E-ehem, that’s quite alright. I’ll leave the dirty, icky, fishy work to you~”

“But Natasha…” Cheslav took her hand, and pulled her closer, taking her aback. “Is tradition for married couples to harvest caviar together.”

Natasha’s hand began trembling, saying something like this… to her! Was he implying they were going to get m-married?

“R-really?” She approached the fish, less apprehensive than before.

Cheslav gingerly placed the knife in her hand, closing her fingers around it. “Is truth.”

“C-can you… guide my hand, then?” Natasha giggled, her face turning from pale blue to purple.

Cheslav nodded, bringing her hand to the base of the sturgeon’s tail and poking the knife inside. “Now, bring knife up slow, do not damage precious caviar inside.”

“So… what you’re saying is we should just stick the tip in, so we don’t damage the eggs inside~?” Natasha took one of Cheslav’s hands and placed it on her tummy.

Cheslav coughed, choking on his own spit. “E-eeh, right. J-just be of most careful.”

Natasha looked back at Cheslav with a smirk, bending down so that her butt pressed more insistently against Cheslav’s crotch as she brought the knife up, cutting through the sturgeon’s belly like butter. About halfway through, the flesh started to really open up, revealing the two massive, egg filled ovaries that they were destined to harvest… together.

“H-hey Cheslav, look at it spreading for you…” Natasha murmured, rubbing her legs together.

“A-almost there, just a bit further Natasha.” Cheslav nervously watched over her shoulder, he picked up on her subtle grinding, but ignored it for the time being.

Once Natasha had fully split the belly, Cheslav reached down, gently sliding his hands under the ovaries and lifting them up, taking great care not to damage the membrane as he put them into a fine mesh strainer.

“S-so, what do we do next, bolshevik boy?” Natasha asked in a husky voice.

“Eeeerrr…” Cheslav began sweating. The sexual tension in the room was getting stifling. Who thought extracting caviar was such an erotic process for undead girls? Was it the same for vampires or zombies? He had to find a way to cool her down, or things would quickly get out of hand.

“W-we remove eggs like kebab, then cover in salt.” Surely, she couldn’t find a way to misconstrue that, right?

“Mmm… okay, but will you guide my hands again? J-just so I don’t mess it up~?”

“Eeeeh, naaah. Dead lady has it.” Cheslav took a small step back. “Just gently rub across strainer.”

Natasha gave Cheslav another smug grin, doing as he instructed. She kept her movements slow and deliberate, trying to get any kind of rise out of Cheslav. Unfortunately, nothing was really coming to her as far as sexual innuendos go.

“Very good, membrane is now empty. Now, we salt.” Cheslav pulled up a large drum of sea salt, giving her a scoop. “Use two.”

Natasha took one scoop of salt and poured it in, using her hands to mix it.

’Oh, you’ll be handling some expensive eggs tonight…

Unable to take it anymore, Natasha turned around, then pounced Cheslav. “You tease, you deliberately made me do this with you… knowing that I would get this worked up!”

“N-no, Cheslav did not-”

“No need to be so modest, my proletariat pervert. I’ve been a bad aristocrat, letting my poor ovaries starve. I need a strong Russian man to seize my means of reproduction~”

Cheslav gulped, looks like there was no way out of this. He was going to have to sate her before going any further.

Natasha grabbed his hands, holding them over his head as she leaned in and kissed his neck. He smelled like cosmoline, a scent she had grown so accustomed to that it had practically pavloved into an aphrodisiac. Whenever she smelt it, she knew Cheslav was nearby.

“Let’s see what you’re packing under that tracksuit~” Natasha whispered, unzipping the shirt and pausing when she got to the pants.

“Uh… how do you…” She searched around for a fastener of some kind, but couldn’t find any way to get it off him.

“One moment.” Cheslav grabbed the waistband of his sweats, then pulled them down, revealing the tighty whities underneath.

“Aha! Gimmie!” Natasha grabbed his underwear and nearly ripped it off, Cheslav flinched, expecting her to accidentally tear his dick off.

“Settle down, you act like I’m going to actually hurt you. I would never harm a single hair on that perfect little head of yours~” Natasha crooned as she gingerly wrapped her fingers around his exposed dick, rubbing the top of his head.

Cheslav relaxed, her tenderness catching him off guard. He saw her talons come out in the hellhound dorm, and just assumed that’s just how she was all the time. Seeing this new, more gentle side of her was a pleasant surprise.

“Natasha, should do this on actual bed, da?”

“Mmm, I would, but you’ve got me so worked up… I don’t want to move from this spot. Besides, I think the smell of rotting fish is just perfect for a scene like this. Just imagine, I’m a noble’s daughter who took a wrong turn while strolling through town, and you corner me in the alleyway behind the fish market and talk about how much you can hold me ransom before using me for your base, carnal desires. I-I would fight back, of course, but my noble little arms are no match for the strong, muscular working man about to ravish me!”

Cheslav looked nervously at her, she was holding him down pretty firmly for a ‘captured noble.’

“Power bottom? More like power my bottom.” Natasha added, grinding against Cheslav’s crotch.

His nervous expression didn’t fade.

Natasha sighed. “A-alright, fine. I’ll take this seriously now.” She lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it aside, Comrade Cluckers strutted over and picked it up in his beak before running off with it.

“H-hey, give that back, you damned chicken!”

“What is matter? Do you not like my cock?” Cheslav asked, completely straightfaced.

“Wh-” Natasha was confused, how was she supposed to answer a question like that? “I-I… No, I l-like your, um… cock…”

“Then do you not like my penis?”

Natasha reached up and grabbed her hair. “I- OKAY! I LIKE YOUR PENIS, B-BUT NOT THAT PANTY STEALING CHICKEN!”

Will retrieve from Comrade Cluckers after dead lady is satisfied.”

“F-fine.” Natasha blushed, but continued to take her clothes off. Once she finished by tossing her panties on the table, she turned her attention to Cheslav.

“Alright, let’s see here…” She reached over to Cheslav’s underwear, but he held up a hand.

“No need, I will do.” He worked them off his legs and kicked them aside, having had the rest of his clothes removed already.

Natasha brought her lips to his neck, nibbling on it before adjusting their position so they were both on their sides. Cheslav was surprised, he expected her to take a more dominant approach with how pushy she was being, but this was a pleasant deviation.

“Lift my leg up, then empower my proletariat pussy with your propaganda.” Natasha crooned, wrapping her thin, pale arms around Cheslav’s neck.

“N-Natasha, please. N-normal sex maybe?” He asked, more exasperated than anything.

Natasha blushed, sighing in resignation. “Alright, you’re right.”

Cheslav lifted her leg, noting how cold her flesh was. Normally, dead bodies only felt cold because they were room temperature instead of warm, but Natasha actually felt cold. It was as if her body was recently dug up from a mountain. He grabbed his cock and nervously guided it towards her labia.

However, her flesh was warmer there. It wasn’t body temperature, but it had a pleasantly cool sensation. He relaxed, looks like he wasn’t going to shrivel up as soon as he took the plunge.

“C-come on already! What are you waiting for??”

Cheslav rolled his eyes, then slid in. Impatient dead lady.

Natasha’s eyes widened as she felt his soviet schlong invade her isolated mansion. All that she could think of was how much better he felt than any of her toys. Suddenly, everything went white…

Her eyes opened, she was sprawling in a ditch filled with dead grass, wearing M89 camouflage and holding a Kalashnikov. She heard singing nearby, but didn’t recognize any of the voices. Still, there was nothing else to do, so she went to go investigate.



Coming to a clearing, Natasha brushed aside some hanging branches to find a group of eastern european men playing various instruments. Cheslav was among them, squatting behind them and rhythmically hitting a triangle.

“Where… where the hell am I?” Natasha muttered to herself. Just as she started to ponder that, the world started to distort around her, as if it was getting pulled away. Cheslav was getting further… further. He was merely a speck in the distance now.

The sun set on the eastern front.

Natasha woke up with a gasp, staring into the eyes of a very concerned looking Cheslav.

“I-is dead lady alright? Was… gone for minute…”

“I’m fine I-” She considered telling him what she saw, but what would be the point? It was just some ecstasy fueled fever dream, is all.

N-nothing more, or less.

“Let’s just continue, p-please.”

Cheslav nodded, and started off at a nice easy pace. Each stroke sent another wave of rapture coursing through her body. Natasha wrapped her legs around him, her arms squeezing him like a vice. As it progressed, she started to tighten her insides, making it harder for Cheslav to concentrate.

Natasha could steadily feel herself getting closer to orgasm, but it just seemed beyond her reach. That is… until Cheslav reached his hand to hers and squeezed it gently.

Poor girl didn’t stand a chance. Cheslav felt her inner walls clamping around him, and knew she reached her peak. He started to slow down, then once he stopped, he stared into her half-glazed eyes.  

“Is Natasha okay?” He asked, concerned.

“Y-yeah, j-just… it’s been a while, okay? Actually never…”

“Cheslav understands. We try again later, da?”

“T-that sounds nice, thank you Cheslav.”

***

Cheslav laid on his back, covered in fish blood and wight juice. The entire room stank of fish, and only about half of that smell was from the dead sturgeon. Natasha was happily munching on a cracker, which was now covered in the salted caviar they made together.

“S-so… does this mean we need to get married now?” Natasha asked hopefully.

Cheslav sighed, his hand caressing her face. “Was joke, Natasha. Waaas joke.”

***

Church had everyone gathered around the lunch table, apparently, there was ‘big news’ afoot. Marshall had a creeping suspicion as to what it was, but Cheslav had no clue. Last night had really taken a lot out of him.

“ALRIGHT LADS!”

The cafeteria stared at Church, who had raised his fist, yelling a bit too loudly in a quiet moment.

“Er… listen up, boys. I’ve gotten good intelligence that we’re going to have the opportunity of a lifetime coming up next week.”

“Church, you ain’t really-”

“Go on, Prudence. Tell them. …P-please.”

“Y-you don’t have to ask politely, Master! I’m your maid, I’d do anything you say! C-can’t you just order me ar-”

“Oh, get on with it, then.”

The kikimora shuddered in pleasure before continuing. “U-um… I heard around campus that the dragons were planning a big group slumber party, and that a bunch of different species were going to be coming.”

“The dragons!? Ain’t we done enough dangerous raids already? I mean, shoot, look at how poorly our last one ended up.” Marshall folded his arms, had Church lost his goddamn mind?

Oh wait. It was Church. His mind had departed long ago.

“You don’t understand, Marshall. This is the opportunity raid of a lifetime! Where else are we going to find such a variety of panties at once? What’s more, they’ll all be drunk and partying, and so they’ll be too distracted to keep track of their wretched underwear. It’s perfect I say! Perfect!

“Church, ya know I’ve worked with you for a long time now, and it’s becoming pretty evident that most of your ‘perfect’ plans ain’t so perfect. How’re we gettin’ in?”

“Alright, I suppose it takes a big man to admit when he’s been wrong, and I admit, our past few raids haven’t gone according to plan. However, I have a solution this time.”

“And that is…?” Marshall raised an eyebrow.

“Say hello to the McGuffin Brothers!” Church pulled two sharply dressed boys from seemingly nowhere.

Gesturing with his cane, he pointed to each of the identical men in turn. “This is… er… James? And this one is… Jerry…chad?”

“Actually, my name is-”

“Shut up, boy, the adults are speaking. In any case, these two will be helping us with our infiltration. I’m assured they’re experts in the field, so we’ll be leaving the infiltration scheme to them.”

“Wait, Mr. Church, didn’t you say-”

“And for top operational security, we won’t be speaking of the infiltration until the night of. Now then-”

“C-can I come along, Master?” Prudence asked, staring at Church hopefully.

“I don’t know, Prudence, can you?”

“…y-yes?”

“Good. You won’t be, though, you lecherous dog.”

Prudence shuddered, and only half in arousal.

***

A week later…

Church smarmily walked up to the wyvern guarding the door to the dorm. She squinted at him, holding a wing out. “Sorry, pal, this is a dragons-only thing.”

“Hmm? Oh, you don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?”

“Oh, yes. If you don’t let me in, I’m going to get in anyway, and maybe I’ll steal your underwear out of spite.”

“What are you…? Look, buddy, just fuck off if you know what’s good for you.”

Church gave her a condescending wink before he turned away. “Oooh, dear me, whatever shall I do? I’d say that I’d see you later, but I suppose you won’t be seeing me, will you?”

Marshall was already hissing curses at him before he’d confidently walked back to his cohorts. “What the hell’re you thinkin’, Church? Now they fuckin’ know we’re comin’!”

“Oh, Marshall. We’re famous. They already know that we’d be here, it’s just a matter of how much fear you’d like to put into them. The look on that armless dullard’s face alone was more than enough to make it worth it. Now then, Larry, what have you and your brother cooked up?”

The MacGuffin that Church had been looking at more closely spoke up first. “It’s not Larry, it’s-”

“I asked you for a plan, MacGuffin, not quibbles.”

“Fuckin’… alright. So what we figured is that we could raise a bit of a ruckus with campus security about the species thing, then while they’re-”

“Good Lord, boy. I asked for a plan, not some kind of idiotic Rube Goldberg scheme that’ll only make more trouble for us.”

“But wouldn’t everyone just be-”

“Shut your blasted mouth. It’s a damn fine thing I prepared a proper plan myself, Dylan. Chap, the sock.”

Cheslav took out what looked like an olive parachute sewn into a tube, then handed a pair of bright green gardening gloves and a mop head to Church.

“Alright lads, here’s the plan. We’ll use these as a clever disguise to sneak past the door guard and enter the party. Once we’re inside, we’ll-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What is it, Pedro?”

“I’m- Goddammit, what makes you think this will work?”

“Unlike you, I’m possessed of a superior intellect. Not only are monsters only half as intelligent as the average town idiot, we’re going to beat them at their own game by pretending to be a wurm.”

Marshall sighed, then shrugged his shoulders. “Arrite, whatever. Who’s goin’ on top?”

“Look, I’m not being the damned head, that’s for sure. I’m too masculine for the part.” Church said.

“Ooooh, no, partner. If you’re lookin’ at me you’re as dumb as a sack of hammers. I ain’t even shaved since the weekend.” Marshall looked over to Cheslav, trying to pass it off to someone else.

“Cheslav has too many muscles, would give away too fast.” Cheslav crossed his arms.

“Yeah, You’re the only one here with the… figure to really pull it off.” Marshall leaned back against the wall, looking over at Church.

“I won’t have my two cohorts trying to weasel out of an important part of this job! If only we had some kind of second opinion… someone who knew what they were talking about with this sort of thing.”

“Uh, Church?” One of the brothers piped up.

“What is it, Michael?”

“I’m not- whatever. Look, what I’m saying is-”

“That’s it! Your brother Emily can be the head!”

“That’s not even a… what?”

Church stared hard at the MacGuffin. He was neither tall nor short, thin nor fat, but… he was masculine? He thought? Looking at him made Church’s eyes hurt somehow. “No, never mind-”

“THERE YOU PUSSIES ARE!” Shouted a familiar voice. The gang stiffened up, then turned around.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Marshall folded his arms, how did this dire alp keep finding them? Was she looking for them or something?

“W-watch your tongue, mister. I just came by because I couldn’t help but hear your plans to hit the dragons tonight. I gotta say, I’m almost impressed with the amount of balls you have, a-almost.”

“Oh? What of it? Are you here to try and stop us?” Church sneered.

“Nah, I actually was kinda hoping you’d hit them. A lot of them used to pick on me back when- N-nevermind, I’m not about to give you jabronis my life story. The point is, although you three are pieces of shit, I’m all for this. By the way, I couldn’t help but notice you guys are wondering who should be the head.” She pushed her fingers together.

“Well it’s damn well not going to be me.” Church said.

The three men started arguing amongst themselves again, but the alp held a hand up. “I happen to be an expert on gays, I’ll be the judge of that.” She leaned in, eyeing Church up and down.

“Let’s see what we got here… concave chest, femboy curves, cardio hips, soy protein arms… yep, you’re the gayest one here.”

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE QUEEN TO YOU JUST SAY ABOUT ME, YOU LITTLE CHAV? I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW I GRADUATED AT THE TOP OF MY CLASS FROM THE HENRY VIII SCHOOL OF MANHOOD AND-”

“Yeah, sure. Later, fags.” Before she left, Ash stole a glance at Marshall, holding her hand up to her ear and mouthing ‘call me.’

***

Giovanna stood outside the castle, acting as a sort of ‘bouncer’ for the party. If they were a dragon, let ‘em in. If not, send ‘em home. She was thinking of getting another dragon in there to take over, when a couple of guys dressed in a painfully obvious wurm costume strolled up to the door.

“H-how do you do, fellow dragons?” Hazarded a faggy looking metrosexual wearing a coconut bra and a mophead.

Giovanna tilted her head, was he really going to roll with that? “What do you think you’re doing, dude? Literally anyone could see through this low-energy-ass attempt.”

“W-whatever do you mean? I am but a poor, simple wurm. Oh deary me, is that a shota over there?”

“Get the hell out of here before I throw you out myself.” Giovanna cracked her knuckles.

“Shit, the jig is up! Get us out of here boys!” Church whispered to his cohorts.

“No shit, sherlock.” Called Marshall from below. With great effort, Marshall, Cheslav, and the McGuffin brothers backed themselves up, and slowly crept on their hands and knees, finally managing to turn around fully after about two minutes.

***

“Well, that was a right disaster.” Church threw the mophead wig off, rubbing the crudely done makeup off of his face.

“Ya think? I ain’t never seen such a poor attempt at acting in my life.” Marshall wriggled his way out of the weird tube parachute, finally glad that he was out of that literal sweat trap.

“Well, maybe we could have been more convincing if you actually moved like a wurm down there.”

“It ain’t easy movin’ like you got no bones, partner.”

“Well then, no wonder we fucked up. Wurms have bones, you imbecile.”

“Well what the hell do we do now?” Marshall asked.

“Perhaps Cheslav can get ladder for tomorrow, and-”

“No, no, Chap, that won’t do.”

“Um…” One of the MacGuffins said.

“They’re only going to be here tonight, so we have to get this done now.”

“I actually-”

“What if we… no, no, that wouldn’t work.”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE WE BROUGHT A GRAPPLING HOOK!”

“What? Are you an idiot, Bill? Why didn’t you say earlier, Bill?”

‘Bill’ stomped toward his brother in a huff, digging through his backpack until he pulled out a hook attached to a long rope.

“Now we just need to get it up to a window or something.”

“Cheslav sees air vent on second floor.”

“Gimme that there ropeydoodle, partner.” Marshall said.

‘Bill’ gave the man a strange look, but handed over the grappling hook.

In one fell swoop, Marshall managed to catch the grappling hook on a decorative piece of masonry, the line hanging in front of the vent.

“Did you just… in one shot?” ‘Bill’ asked.

“Yeah, Saria’s been makin’ me pr- Uh…”

“Hmm? Oh, do tell, Marshall.” Church prodded

“It’s… n-nothin’, alright? I’m just good ‘cause… my ranch! T-the one upstate!”

“You don’t have a ranch, you dolt.”

“BOY, WE OUGHTA START CLIMBIN’, RIGHT CHURCH?”

***

Natasha huffed angrily and crossed her legs. “It’s like they’re ignoring us!”

“N-now, now, I’m sure Master had one of his big master plans, a-and he needed to go right away!” Prudence retorted.

“Oh, you know as well as me that they ditched us on purpose. That stupid limey probably doesn’t even want anything to do with you.”

The kikimora grabbed her by the collar and pulled her out of the chair. “YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT FUCKING NOW!”

“L-look, I was just trying to say-”

“I’M A GOOD MAID! MASTER LOVES ME BECAUSE I’M THE BEST MAID AND NOBODY CAN EVER REPLACE ME AND BECAUSE HE’S GOING TO MARRY ME AND WE’RE GOING TO HAVE SO MUCH LOUD, SWEATY, BALL-SLAPPING SEX EVERY NIGHT THAT OUR  SIX BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTERS WITH HIS EYES ARE GOING TO ASK ME IF I’M OKAY EVERY MORNING BEFORE THEY HELP ME CLEAN OUR MANSION AND THEY’LL BE ADORABLE AND JUST MAKE HIS HEART MELT AND HE’LL NEVER LEAVE ME!”

“Well, were you being a good maid when you raped him?”

Prudence visibly cringed, letting go of Natasha’s shirt. “I-I just… he wanted me to! I think… A-anyway, I trust Master! He’d never, ever, ever leave me!”

Saria, who had been pacing on the other side of the clubhouse, finally spoke up. “I-I’m a little worried, too, Prue… I mean, Marshie’s a good boy, but all of those nasty dragons are there! What if something happens?”

“Wait, what the hell are you saying, Saria?” Natasha asked.

“Well, I mean… the hellhounds were bad enough, but dragons don’t even respect other girls’ property! What if they just… you know… take them away from us?”

The wight clenched her fist. “That dumbass girlfriend-ignoring, oily-smelling, chicken-fucking little goplet is MINE! We should go get them right now! Come on Pru…dence?”

The kikimora was staring at the ground and vibrating, muttering to herself. Saria put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up, her eyes empty. “Our safety is not important. What is important is what we’re going to do. I just fucking hate these dragons and the human betas feasting on their pussies. My whole life is just cold, bitter Churchy, and I always wanted be loved tenderly. This is the time of vengeance and no dragon is worth saving. I will put in the trash as many as I can. It’s time for me to kill and it’s time for me to die. Our husbando-saving crusade begins here.”

***

“Ow, shit. Dammit, Church, quit stoppin’ without warnin’ me!”

Church whipped his head around, holding a finger to his lips as he glared at Marshall. A tense moment followed before a voice drifted up from the room below them. “…yeah, I smell it, too. Did someone actually invite some guys to this clam jam?”

“Dunno, they’re probably hogging them all to themselves. Wanna go look for them?”

“Fine, but keep it quiet. I want to actually get a turn with them.”

As soon as they heard the sound of the door closing behind the two dragons, the group let out a sigh of relief, with the sound of panicked breathing behind Marshall not stopping.

“Would you stop your incessant mouth-breathing, Abdul?”

“W-what? I’m… Church, look, I-I think we might have been found out. Maybe we should just get out while we have-”

“Nonsense. And I won’t hear any more of it, Arnaldo. We’re going.

“Look, ya might as well give up, partner. We’ve done this song and dance before.” Marshall said, reaching behind himself to give the MacGuffin an awkward pat on the shoulder.

“Come on, chaps, onward.”

“Is only one Cheslav, Church.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The duct made a horrible creaking sound every so often as the five men crawled through, but it held.

***

“Um, Prue, are you sure we’ll be able to get in like this?”

“Who’s been raiding panties the longest?”

Saria sighed. “You.”

“And whose Master is the mastermind of all of the raids?”

“…Yours. But Marshie is really imp-”

“Shush. We’re coming up to the door.”

Giovanna sighed. Really? Fuckin’ really? Twice in one night. She was almost tempted to check a mirror to make sure she wasn’t the cross-eyed, drooling idiot these people seemed to think she was.

“I-is this the dragon party?” Prudence hazarded.

“Yup.”

“Can we… uh… come in?”

“Nope.”

“Why not? We’re… I’m a dragon!”

“Look, just putting on a new sock ain’t gonna fool me. At least it’s a girl on top this time, I guess.”

“Prudence, if our cover’s blown, can I get out of the sleeping bag now? It’s getting stuffy being shoved halfway up Saria’s skirt, and that’s not saying anything about the sleeping bag.”

“H-hey!”

“Look, just get the hell out of here.” Giovanna said, crossing her arms.

***

Ako helped her jabberwock friend into the room they were staying in. She’d only had as much to drink as Ako had, but she’d always been a lightweight and she was starting to make trouble for everyone.

“C’moooon, Akkie, we coulda shtayed longer~”

“Fffff- no, c’mon, Alyssa, that’s… you’re drunk.”

One of the jabberwock’s tentacles gave Ako’s face a lick. “Pfff… so are you~”

“Stop that, you’re being weird…”

“Whaaat? No, come on, loosen up a little~” Alyssa said, laying a claw on the ryu’s thigh.

“St… what are you doing?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb, Akkie, it doesn’t suit you~”

As Alyssa leaned in, they both caught a flash of movement in the corner of the room and turned their heads to find a nondescript-looking man attempting to wear a lampshade as a disguise.

“Weeell, Akkie, you know what they say~” The jabberwock leaned in to whisper in Ako’s ear. “It’s not gay if it’s a three-way~”

She strutted over to the man, her hips swaying. Before she reached out to grab him, he held out a hand. “H-hang on…”

“What? Oh, no. It’s too late for you to get out of this, boy~”

He took the lampshade off of his head, looking up at the jabberwock and then glancing to the ryu on the bed. “I-I’d be happy to, I mean, with two beautiful ladies like you and all, but…”

“But?”

“Could you… it’s a bit weird, but… could I… get a pair of each of your panties?”

Both dragons gave him a strange look for a moment, but Alyssa gave him a lecherous grin and laid on the bed beside Ako. “You’re going to have to get them yourself, big boy~”

The man grinned, then puffed his chest out a little. “Could you both close your eyes while I do it?”

“O-only if you use your teeth…” Ako said, breaking her silence.

“Deal.”

The two dragons shuddered in anticipation as they felt their underwear slide off, tails whipping back and forth. There was a quiet moment of hesitation and Alyssa opened her eyes, seeing the man waving madly and whispering toward the ceiling.

“No! I’ll deal with this, just leave me! …Yes, I’m sure. Are you gay or something? Go!”

He cleared his throat when he realised both girls were now staring at him. “Uh… Ready, ladies?”

***

“That was the stupidest plan you could’ve possibly dreamed up.” Natasha spat.

“But… I-it’s what Master would’ve done! Are you calling him stupid!?” Prudence said angrily.

“I’m not exactly calling him a master strategist, am I?”

“Hang on, girls, why don’t we-” Saria said, being cut off.

“Oh, shut up, Saria, at least our boyfriends could think of a way out of a cardboard box.”

“Don’t you make fun of my Marshie! He could take the other two on any day of the week and win, easy! Besides, those are some pretty harsh words coming from someone who got trapped in a cardboard box herself~”

“S-shut up! And… Cheslav has guns!”

The elf gave her a smug look, resting her chin on her hand. “At least Marshie has a nice big dick~ I’m surprised I even walked over here~”

“C-Cheslav is just fine, thank you! And he has technique!”

“I can’t wait to see what Master can do when he’s on top…”

There was an awkward pause before Saria broke the silence. “I miss him already…”

“I… yeah. Let’s go get them.” Natasha concluded.

***

Church held the used panties at arm’s length. “Good god. He couldn’t have just stolen something sanitary, could he?”

“A-alright, we have the panties now, right? Why don’t we just head out now?” the remaining MacGuffin said.

“Oh, shut up, Hiro. Think of your brother Akiko’s sacrifice, he’d want us to go on. By the way, do those dragons use the same perfume as Prudence? She always seems to smell like these.”

Marshall gave him a troubled, uncomfortable expression, like a man who must explain to his paraplegic friend that his dreams of having a maid who doesn’t smell like wet panties will never come true.

They continued crawling down the duct, passing room after busy room before arriving at the end of the line in a little-used corner of the dorm, where a number of dragons and zombie dragons were sleeping. The remains of the group circled around a vent leading directly down into the room.

“Alright, down you go, Pierre.” Church whispered.

“What?! I can’t go down there!”

“They’re sleeping, you inconsolable twit. Besides, who’s paying you?”

“I-I don’t care about the money any more! Just let me go, you won’t have to pay me, I promise.”

“Oh, your poor, late brother Victoria. He’d be so disappointed that he died in vain.”

“W-what? He’s fine, isn’t he? Monsters don’t… oh, god, do they?”

“Well, I suppose we’ll never know, will we? If you’re so unwilling to descend into danger, we’ll never be able to get his body back.”

“O-okay. How do I get in?”

“Good man. Cheslav, let’s have the rope again, shall we?”

The remaining MacGuffin was slowly lowered into the room by his waist, dropping into a clear place on the floor, littered with sleeping dragons. He fumbled with the rope a minute, having to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants before undoing the line around his waist.

His knees felt weak, but he slowly tiptoed his way through the women in sleeping bags, looking for any open bags or cases he could dig through quietly. He finally spotted an unguarded duffel in the corner of the room, its flap hanging open. He had to focus every fibre of his being on keeping his breathing quiet as he made his way through the minefield of sleeping girls painfully slowly.

His arms felt heavy, and his hands shook as he rifled through the bag, but he had finally found it! He drew out a neatly-folded pair of golden, scale-printed underwear, with a few rhinestones sewn into the waistband. Breathing the quietest sigh of relief he could muster. He gave a thumbs-up to Church, who grinned. Just one more left to go.

He nearly lost his composure when one of the sleeping dragons sneezed, spraying him with a fine mist of snot. He was disgusted, but he knew he had to press on, regardless of what he’d gotten on his brand-new sweater already. Fortunately, there was a dresser only a few steps away.

He froze when one of the dragons turned in her sleep, petrified of being caught when he was so close. A few tense moments passed before the girl began snoring and he breathed a sigh of relief. The drawer slid open with what seemed like a deafening noise, but none of the dragons stirred, and he pulled out a pair of black panties with gaudy green lace, tiptoeing back to the hanging rope as fast as he dared.

Church motioned for him to toss the underwear up. He hesitated for a moment, thinking of what happened to his brother. Another dragon stirred, and his worries disappeared. He threw the panties up to the vent and began tying the rope around his waist as fast as he could.

As he was lifted away from danger, he breathed another sigh of relief. He relaxed, leaning into the harness and-

Pfffffrrrrttt

Perhaps he tied he rope too tight around his waist, the pressure on his gut squeezed out a nervous fart from him. A girl below him rolled onto her back, squinting at him before her eyes flew open in shock. She shouted, and it seemed as though the whole room had woken up instantly. He looked up to find Marshall uncomfortably scratching the back of his neck while Church sawed at the rope frantically. This was it. He tried to think of something pleasant as he fell into the dragons, waiting like piranhas for him to fall. His brother? No… he thought of warm, happy days at home, with family dinners and his mother’s spaghetti.

***

“Well, that was a close one, eh, lads?”

“Should we have… Like, we coulda pulled him up, Church…” Marshall said.

“Of course not. He would have given away our presence. Necessary sacrifices, you understand.”

“Alright, I guess… At least it weren’t me this time.”

“Good man. Now then, let’s-”

“HEY, CHECK IF THERE’S ANY MORE WHERE THIS ONE CAME FROM!”

“…Shit.”

The three remaining men turned around as fast as they could in the tight confines of the duct, starting to crawl back to the entrance to escape. Marshall turned to look behind himself as they skittered away, seeing a claw reaching into the hole they had just been gathered around. He was about to get the rest of the group’s attention, but at the last moment, there was screaming from the main hall of the dorm, and the dragons retreated.

***

Prudence screeched in anger, kicking her legs helplessly as she was held in the air by a concerned-looking wurm.

“So what the hell are you here for?”

“OUR HUS- …BOYFRIENDS!” Natasha shouted.

“Yeah, you stupid scaly bitches!” Saria chimed in.

“Ooooh~ Do you mean those sweet little boys who fell right into our claws?”

“FUCKINGWHORESGIVEBACKMASTERI’LLKILLYOUTOAFUCKINGWOMANYOUFUCKINGCUNTSIFYOUTOUCHEDHIMI’MGOINGTOSHOVEACACTUSUPYOURSTUPIDLOOSESCALYCOOCHESUNTILYOUFUCKINGBEGFORMOREGIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACKGIVEHIMBACK!”

“Oh, no, no. I think we earned them fair and square, don’t you? After all, they were hardly marked at all, hmm?”

Natasha’s eyes glowed, the ghost of a spectral hand starting to envelop her fist.

“You give back Marshie right now or I’m going to mark you, you… you dumb dykes!” Saria shouted.

“What? Wouldn’t you be the-”

“You’re going to be the one getting fucked by a woman, fag!”

“…You know what, just for that, why don’t you bring out those boys, just so these little girls can see who’s really in charge of this school, hmm?”

Out of the crowd, one man, then another were dragged forward. Prudence, who had been a whirlwind of flying limbs and makeshift weapons stopped, hanging limp in the wurm’s grip.

Natasha looked to Saria, who was similarly silent.

Well? Struck dumb by our power over you? Maybe we’ll-”

“That’s not mine.”

“What?”

“That’s not my Master, now put me down. I have to go find him.”

“What do you mean-”

“Yeah, uh… Sorry about the whole dyke thing… we’re gonna go now.”

“Wait, these aren’t your boyfriends?”

“Er… nope. Some friends of theirs but-”

“Oh, god! P-Prudence! Church just left us and-”

Prudence gave the MacGuffin a blank stare. “…Who are you?”

“You’re just going to… p-please, please help us!”

“What? Naaah, nah. Don’t worry about us, we’re right as rain.” The other brother said, his arms  around the waists of a ryu and a jabberwock.  

Natasha glanced at Saria again. “Are we really just going to…?”

“Well, you can stay behind if you don’t want to find your boyfriend.”

“Well, I mean, shouldn’t we at least-?”

“They’re having fun. Probably. They’ll be fine. We can come get them after some make-up sex for making us come out here.”

“…Uh… S-sorry, uh… Harry?”

“It’s-” The MacGuffin was cut off by a zombie dragon shoving her tongue down his throat.

***

The girls stumbled into the clubhouse, cold and tired from looking for the boys for the last few hours. They filed in the door, finding Cheslav passed out on the table while Marshall and Church yelled at each other loudly about the definition of something or other.

Church turned at the sound of the door opening, holding up a glass. “Aaaah, Prudensh! There… There y’are! Where’d you go, woman?”

“W-where were you, Master?! We were worried sick!”

“What? Panties. We steal them, you know.”

Natasha cut in. “Are you… Are you fucking drunk?

“What? No, of coursh not, you… idiot? Stupid… dumbarse. Just havvin’ a… celebratory sip, s’all.”

“We were out looking for you and you were just here drinking?

“I think… I think… What do I think? …Oh, right. Fffffacking… I told you not to follow, you bint.

“You could have gotten yourselves killed! Or worse, taken! In fact, give me that gopnik!”

Natasha took a long sniff of the prostrate man, lifting her head up after taking a moment longer than she needed. “Well, mine’s clean, at least.”

Saria and Prudence looked at each other for just a moment before dashing to their partners, sniffing them.

“Wait, hang’n, hang on. Y’all were… lookin’ fer us?” Marshall slurred.

Prudence, who was mostly inside of Church’s jacket, poked her head out. “Well, w-we just… I know Master said not to, but we just got to thinking, and well…”

“You’re damn right, Prudence! What if you ended up like those McGolfballs or whatever?”

Church gave the wight a strange look. “Who?”

“Those… oh, what were their names? Anyway, those boys you took with you! They looked… like something?”

Look. ‘S probe- …prob’ly not important, innit? We got fucking… like… “ Church held up his fingers, counting woozily and restarting several times. “Four in one night! ‘S… ‘s fuckin’ fantastic! Woulda… woulda gotten ‘em all, too, if we didn’ hafta… uh… run. Right. Run.”

Saria grinned smugly, leaning on Marshall. “Oh, you didn’t get them all, Marshie?”

“Well, seein’ as… Them fellas were… What were they called? Fuckin’… Ennis n’ Jack or whatever got us a couple, then there was some big hulla…. Uh… hullabaloo n’ we had ta get on gone.”

Saria shuddered in arousal at the Texan’s accent getting worse. “A-and which ones are you missing, sweetie?”

“Uh… aw shit… we got uh… them purple ones n’… the snakey ones with the antlers… reg’lar ones… oh! Zombie ones, too! That’s uh… aw fuck, which ones’re left?”

“Would they happen to be…” Saria slid two pairs of panties out of her pocket. “Oh, say… wyvern or wurm ones?”

“Y-yeah! Wait, how’d ya…”

“Well, since that cute little door guard and Prudence’s friend the wurm girl decided to be such unkind little who- hosts, I decided I might, oh… spice up their nights a little. You’d be surprised how little attention those dragons pay to hands up their skirts, though I suppose that’s what you get when you’re a bunch of cuckolding little scaly bitches that… Uh… s-sorry, Marshie. Just got a little, well…”

“That’s… uh… wow, Saria. An’ we can have ‘em?”

The elf gave the man a lecherous grin. “What would you do to get them?”

“Uh… a kiss, I guess?”

“Oh! Perfect, let me just get my belt off, cutie~”

“No, that’s-”

“Right, I’m suddenly feeling much better. I’m off, Prudence.” Church walked as quickly as he could out of the clubhouse, the kikimora trailing him. Natasha shrugged her shoulders and picked up Cheslav, leaving Saria and Marshall alone.

“Fuckin’… god damn it.”

***
“Are we all assembled?”

Ash glanced around the table, five other shadows sitting at a table in a circle. The room was dark, with the curtains pulled and every available lightsource turned off, as per request of one of the attendees.

“Yeah, thanks for inviting me. Who knew I would get an opportunity at revenge on these smegheads so soon?” Said a cocky voice.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for an opportunity like this… It’s been so long, I nearly forgot how mad I was when they hit my dorm.” Came another irate voice.

“Now, now. We’ve all got beef with these guys, that’s why we’re all here. What’s important now is that we come up with a plan of attack.” Ash reminded.

“Well, what do we know about them? B-besides who they are, of course.” A new voice asked.

“Let’s see, I know where they live, and I know they have a clubhouse somewhere in the abandoned portables.”

“But do you know which one they’re in?”

“Uhh… I think it’s on the south side of the school?”

“We can probably find it without trying too hard. Anyway, why don’t we do some good ol’ fashioned forcey fun time? It’ll make me feel better at least.” Said one of the silhouettes, leaning back in her seat.

“Heh, while I wouldn’t mind that as a last resort, that’s a bit… barbaric don’t you think?” Another one asked nervously.

“She’s right, it’s too… base. Anyone can just sexually satisfy themselves with their enemies, but what if, and bear with me on this… We actually took something of value this time?”

“Alright, I’m listening…”

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